Page 5 of The Alpha King's Mate

Two daughters in one house. One dressed in fine clothing, the other in worn rags.

The wife scrambled to her knees and dropped her head low.

“I do not know, Alpha King,” she cried, crouching lower.

I dragged a chair back, letting it scrape across her polished floor, and sat.

“Send the hunters out,” I drawled.“Alive. But I don’t mind if he’s missing a limb or two.”

Zev chortled and shook his head, but my gaze lingered on the bastard. Sunken cheeks. Gaunt. Dark circles beneath her eyes.Bird bones. It would take but a few seconds to snap her arm in two.

The other two cried softly—even the gardener was sniffling—but not the bastard. My men still held her arms, and she had the audacity to hold her head high. Not a single tear in those dark eyes.

Break her, Malakh growled.

It was tempting, but hardly a challenge given her poor condition.

My eyes dropped lower.

The grey top was tucked into her waistband. The disparity between her heavy breasts and tiny waist could have been mistaken for surgical enhancement. It wasn’t within her means to have such a procedure.

“Let go of her arms.”

Her eyes flicked up. They released her, and her gaze dropped to the floor.

“Raise your top.”

Her head snapped up.

“No,” she spat, curling into herself and wrapping her arms around her body.

The room went silent. Even the wife stopped snivelling. No one told me no.

“Lift her top. I want to see her abdomen.”

“Get off me. Ow. What—no, stop.”

The brunette smiled despite her red-haired mother clinging to her. The scuffling stopped and I glanced at the bastard. Above her smooth navel, both sides of her ribcage pressed against her skin.

I raised my hand and motioned for them to pull her top down. She was panting hard, chest heaving, glaring at me as if she could do me harm. There was something so deliciously wild about her.

Violence would not tame her, but a few bouts on my cock might. She may even purr for more with all that venom she held beneath the surface.

The sound of a vehicle approaching turned every head towards the window. I kept my eyes on Gerald’s fucked-up family. Judging by the sobs and intermittent moans carrying in from outside, he’d been relieved of a limb or two.

I remained seated for the family reunion.

Talon and Jax dragged Gerald into the room. His foot—the remaining one—trailed behind him, leaving a bloody smear across the floorboards. They threw him face down beside my feet.

Talon tossed the dismembered foot at him. The aim was perfect. It bounced off his head and landed close to the wife. Once the shock wore off, the mother and daughter began to scream. Not once or twice. Continuously.

The bastard was staring past them all. I turned to see what held her attention and realised it was the streaks of blood. I glanced down at the pool spreading across the wooden floor. They hadn’t cauterised him.

“He’d better not fucking bleed to death before I’m done with him,” I growled, and they began to move.

“Grab my blowtorch from the car,” Talon shouted.

I snapped my fingers at the girl.