Chapter 2

JAX’S POV My gaze lingered on the heavy oak doorway where Aubrey had just left, a cold smile playing on my lips as the echo of her footsteps faded down the corridor. I returned to my seat behind my desk, the leather chair creaking beneath me, and Ivanka took her place back on my lap, the silk of her dress rustling as she pushed it up until her bare core met my dick. Sly witch. I smirked at her boldness, the familiar heat of her body igniting my own. Her delicate fingers threaded through my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. "The poor girl adores you, worships you because she believes you're her savior," she said, her meek voice filling the sunlit office as she slowly ground her waist against my hardening length. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through me, my dick pulsing in response. "Aren't I?" I asked, sliding my hands beneath the bunched fabric of her dress, savoring the smooth warmth of her thighs as I exposed them to my hungry gaze. "You are... but we both know how that was possible," she said with a knowing look in her violet eyes, increasing her pace until pre-cum dampened my pants. Fuck! "Just because I murdered her whole family doesn't mean I didn't save her that day." My hands gripped her waist possessively before sliding to her center, finding that sweet spot that made her breath hitch. "Ha ha, true," she threw her head back laughing, golden hair cascading down her back as the sound mingled with her breathy moans. "But don't you worry, she'll find out one day?" "If I remember correctly, your magic is what's keeping that from happening, or do you not trust your own self?" I paused my fingers mid-motion inside her velvet heat, and her body trembled with need. I smirked, power rushing through me at how easily I could control the witch. "Of course, I believe in my magic, but even it has loopholes." "Don't worry, nothing will happen, and even if it does, she won't be able to do shit because it would probably be too late." I continued my fingers' movement at her center as the memories of what led me to this path flooded my mind, each calculated step that brought me here playing out like a perfectly executed dance. ****Flashback ******** 30 years ago I was Jax, the son of the Wolf King, but my mother was an Omega, and she wasn't his true mate—just a one-night stand. Because of that, my title as a prince wasn't recognized. Everyone eagerly awaited the child Queen Grace was carrying, even though he hadn't been born yet. They already named him Knox. I didn't feel sad about it, though. As long as I was with my mom, I was fine. When I heard footsteps outside, I quickly hid behind the curtains. "One... two... three..." I squeezed deeper into the curtains, trying not to giggle. The heavy velvet tickled my nose, and I could smell Mummy's lavender scent on the fabric from all the times we'd played this game. She should have found me by now—she always pretended not to see my feet peeking out. But the footsteps echoing through our chambers weren't hers. They were sharp and decisive, like the click-click-click of Queen Grace's jeweled shoes on marble. I peered through a gap in the curtains, my heart fluttering like a trapped bird. Mummy stood by the frost-covered window, her spine rigid as a sword. Queen Grace held a crystal wine glass, firelight dancing off it like drops of blood. Her smile reminded me of the venomous snake I once saw in the castle garden right before it struck. "I hear you've been rather curious about my past," Queen Grace said, the wine in her glass swirling like dark poison. "Asking all sorts of questions about my old pack... about what kind of magic my dear friend practiced." Mummy swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, but she straightened her shoulders like she did when teaching me to be brave. "I don't know what you mean." "No?" Queen Grace's smile sharpened. "Then perhaps you can explain why your precious Helen took such an... unexpected leave. Shall I have her screams convince you to be honest?" A gasp tore from Mummy's throat at the news of Helen, her trusted omega maid. "Leave her out of this. She's innocent." "But you're not, are you?" Queen Grace's voice turned to ice. "Poking your nose where it doesn't belong." "The king has a right to know the truth," Mummy's voice shook with fury. "That you used dark magic to block our mate bond. That you've been deceiving him all these years, making him believe he's yours when he was meant to be mine." My small hands pressed against my mouth, stifling my own shock. Mummy was Daddy's true mate, not Queen Grace? Queen Grace threw her head back, her laughter like shattering ice in the winter air. "My, my. Such accusations." All warmth drained from her face as she thrust the wine glass forward. "Drink." Mummy knocked the glass away. It shattered, dark liquid spreading across the floor like spilled ink. "Never. I'm going to the king. He'll know everything—what you've done, what you are." She rushed for the door, but two of Queen Grace's personal guards blocked her path. "Did you really think I came unprepared?" Queen Grace seized a fistful of Mummy's beautiful dark hair, forcing her to the wine-soaked floor. "You won't make me drink your poison, Grace," Mummy spat the name like a curse. "Using my name now?" Queen Grace knelt, bringing her lips to Mummy's ear. My ears strained to hear, but the words were lost to me as my werewolf abilities were still developing at the age of ten. "Don't touch him!" Mom yelled, rushing to her feet, but the guards forced her back with brutal efficiency. Mom turned toward where I hid, and our eyes met through the gap in the curtains. They spoke to my soul, urging me to rush over to help her as something bad was about to happen—her usually warm brown eyes now filled with a terror I'd never seen before. My small legs obeyed my desperate need to reach her, but one word through our bond froze me in place. "No, stay back, baby," she said through our mind link, her mental voice trembling with love and fear. "I want to help, Mummy!" I cried through our link, my heart pounding against my ribs. "I know, baby, but stay back and remember Mummy loves you." She turned away from me and back to Queen Grace, her shoulders straightening with final resolve. "Why should I remember that?" I asked, panic rising in my throat as the words echoed strangely in my mind. Suddenly, understanding crashed over me, and my eyes widened in terror. "No!" The scream tore from my throat as she bent down, lapping at the wine pooled on the floor. Seconds later, blood poured from her mouth. Queen Grace left with her guards, satisfaction rolling off her in waves. I burst from behind the curtains, catching Mummy's head in my small arms as she collapsed. "Found you, baby," she choked out, more blood staining her chest. "Mummy, please! You're bleeding so much!" Tears blurred my vision. "Help! Somebody help us!" "Listen to me, my sweet baby," she whispered, blood staining her lips. "No one's coming... but remember... remember how much Mummy loves you. Always..." Her eyes drifted closed, her hand falling limp against my cheek. Something inside me broke. "No!" I shook her cooling body, but she didn't respond. I stayed there until dawn broke, crying for her to return, begging for help that never came. When morning finally arrived, my tears had dried, replaced by a hatred for Queen Grace that burned in my bones like eternal fire. And her son—Knox. ****Flash end******** "Do you recall it's because of what happened to your mom you got to know me?" Ivanka's voice pulled me from the blood-soaked memory, her fingers threading through my hair with practiced intimacy. I nodded, the memories shifting to more recent machinations. Consumed by my desire to seize the crown from Knox and expose my stepmother's crimes, I had sought a powerful alliance with Ivanka. When I asked her the most effective way to destroy Knox, her answer had been simple yet brilliant: his true mate would be his greatest weakness. Knowing this, I asked her to peer into the future with her dark magic to reveal who that mate would be. When her vision showed Aubrey, everything fell into place like pieces on a chessboard. The rest had fallen into place like pieces on a chessboard. Ivanka's dark magic revealed Aubrey as Knox's destined mate, and I orchestrated everything with surgical precision—the murder of her family staged as a common robbery, positioning myself as her savior, molding her broken pieces into a weapon of my own design. The delicious irony of using Knox's own mate as the instrument of his destruction still brought a smile to my lips. How perfectly it had worked. Aubrey's trust in me ran bone-deep, her devotion absolute. She probably whispered prayers of gratitude to her "savior" each night, never suspecting I was the architect of her nightmares. Her eagerness to please, her desperate need for approval—they were all just strings I had carefully knotted around her heart, ready to pull when the moment was right. "Do you truly feel nothing for Aubrey after all these years of mentoring her?" Ivanka asked, her violet eyes searching mine as if trying to peer into my soul. "Everything is proceeding as planned," I replied, watching the candlelight dance across her face. "Aubrey will soon be positioned close to Prince Knox, the first step in dismantling everything Queen Grace holds dear. My personal feelings are irrelevant; Aubrey will play her part perfectly, never knowing the truth until it's too late." Ivanka's lips parted, another question forming, but I'd had enough of her probing curiosity. In one fluid motion, I seized a fistful of her hair, yanking her close until our breaths mingled. "You're forgetting yourself, Ivanka," I murmured, letting danger seep into every syllable. My words ghosted across her skin, and I felt the shiver that ran through her. "Some curiosities are better left... unexplored." Before she could voice another prying question, I captured her lips with mine, hard and demanding, silencing her curiosity. Her initial resistance was brief—a flutter of defiance before surrender. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as I pulled her closer, the ever-present tension between us finally igniting. I lifted her with ease, her legs wrapping around my waist as I moved us through my dimly lit office, each step driven by raw need. My hands mapped the curve of her spine, her body molding against mine as if crafted for this purpose. We collided with the stone wall, our breaths ragged and mingling in the cool air. Her hands explored freely, leaving trails of fire in their wake. A soft sound escaped her parted lips, the vulnerability in it driving me further. In one fluid motion, I lowered her onto the leather couch, pausing only for a heartbeat to meet her gaze. Her eyes were wide, stripped of their usual calculation, revealing something deeper—a fierce anticipation that mirrored my own hunger. My hands traced a deliberate path down her arms, over her sides, memorizing every curve, every shiver of skin warming beneath my touch. Her breath caught as I leaned in, my lips grazing the delicate line of her collarbone before venturing lower, savoring each small reaction. Her hands found purchase on my back, pulling me closer as if seeking anchor in my weight, in my presence. Her touch fed the flames between us, unspoken power dynamics simmering just beneath the surface. I lifted her face to mine, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss, my hand cradling the nape of her neck. Our movements slowed, becoming almost gentle, each caress more deliberate. She sighed against my lips, fingers tangling in my hair, and I felt her surrender to this—the intensity, the rawness, the magnetic pull between predator and prey. There was a pause, a single heartbeat where time seemed suspended, before we crashed together again, each sensation heightened, every touch electric. I let myself sink into her warmth, into this connection that felt as inevitable as it was dangerous. The chamber fell silent save for our mingled breaths, our hearts pounding in a rhythm as old as time itself.