Savior

Ishmael had just arrived at the brothel with his second-in-command, Mikael who was already drunk from all the booze he had earlier.

"Are you sure you won't have any ladies today? I heard they have a new batch." The drunk Mikael said, leaning his head on Ishmael's shoulder.

"I'm not your resting post." Ishmael pushed Mikael's head from his shoulder. "I won't be with any girl tonight and you should do the same, you're too drunk for it anyway."

"Don't be such a bore... if you won't have fun, don't stop me from having mine. You've changed these days..." Mikael turned away from Ishmael and left to order one of the mistresses from the brothel.

Ishmael stared at the retreating back of Mikael. "You've changed these days..." Mikael's words kept repeating in Ishmael's mind.

He knew it was true, he had changed. The old him wouldn't pass up an opportunity to go drinking or take one of the mistresses to bed and yet for some reason, something in him was stopping him.

In his right state of mind, Ishmael was worse than Mikael when it came to booze and ladies. He'd get drunk and have a new girl every night, a usual routine for him.

"What's going on with me?" He wondered.

He was at the finest brothel in the kingdom yet that didn't excite him, a good-looking group mistress with a nice body was a few meters away from him yet he felt nothing by staring at her.

As a matter of fact, warning signs went off in his head the moment he stepped into the brothel, it was as if something dangerous was waiting for him but he couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"I can't lose myself like this."

Not wanting to lose sight of who he was, Ishmael stood up and walked toward the group mistress. "I'm here for the usual."

The lady gave him a flirtatious smile. "I'll send one of our mistresses to your usual room, your highness."

"Make them two." He demanded before walking off to the room.

She wasn't surprised by his presence there or the request he made, in fact, she expected it. Ishmael was the brothel's most frequent and highest-paying guest, he visited there nearly every night despite being the king of Azar.

Each step he took toward his room felt like someone was squeezing his heart, something he had never experienced before. He grabbed the wall to find balance before continuing, ignoring the pang in his chest.

"Argh!..." He gripped his head which felt like it would explode at any minute.

His gums started aching and itching as fangs were growing out from them, the smell in the air felt familiar and painful at the same time and the closer he got to the tip of the stairs, the more his claws came out from his fingers.

He was transforming!

But why? Ishmael had always been in full control of how and when he transformed but at that moment the beast in him was taking over of all rationality in his body.

Just then, he heard a loud scream from one of the rooms. "HELP!"

That was all it took for the beast in him to snap. The voice was familiar even though he had never heard it before and the beast in him cried out too after hearing the cry.

He knew what was wrong... The cause of his pain and the uncomfortable feeling he felt earlier, leading to his near transformation.

HIS MATE.

She was there and in danger.

Ignoring the pain he was feeling, Ishmael bolted toward the source of the cry he heard earlier and once he reached the door, he wasted no time before kicking it down.

There she was, his mate. A woman he had been waiting for for over a century. A woman he lost hope of ever finding was just a few inches away from him.

"Let her go." The beast in him was angry.

His mate was being held captive by a man who was forcefully touching her... touching HIS MATE!

"How dare you interrupt my- Your Highness?!" The man stared in shock as the king of Azar strutted toward him with anger clear in his eyes. "Wha- what are you doing here my- my king?" The look in Ishmael's eyes sent shivers down his spine.

"I SAID... LET HER GO," Ishmael yelled.

The man lept off the bed and tried to escape but Ishmael was quicker and caught him. "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU LAY YOUR HANDS ON HER?"

"I- I was just-"

Ishmael struck the man in his face, leaving three huge scars on it caused by his claws.

The beast in him wanted to kill the man, and so did Ishmael. He pounced on the man mercilessly until he was covered in his own blood and could barely breathe.

"Kill him!"

"He hurt our mate."

"Make him pay."

The voice of the beast in him rang in Ishmael's ear, he was out for blood and wouldn't stop until he stared at the man's lifeless body.

Just as Ishmael was about to land the finishing blow, he took notice of the girl behind him. Seeing her nearly naked with tears in her eyes and bruises on her body made him want to kill the bastard before him even more but he didn't want to scare her, not on their first meeting.

"I'll deal with you later." He spat at the bastard and stood up, shutting his eyes to get rid of his fangs and claws. He couldn't let her see him lose control like that.

Once calm, he turned and took a step closer to her but she stepped back in fear... fear of him... it pained his heart.

"I- I'm not here to hurt you... I promise." 

Hearing the vulnerability in his voice, Maeve felt less scared and stopped running away from him. "Thank you for saving me." She said in her weak voice while clutching what was left of her clothes to hide her body.

Her voice, despite sounding broken, soothed the anger Ishmael was feeling. It sounded like music to his ears.

'It really is her... I found her.' He said to himself, ecstatic to have finally met his missing bride.

He walked up to the bed and wrapped the covers on her body so she wouldn't feel insecure. He wanted to make her feel safe in his presence.

Once the rush of the events had died down, Maeve burst out crying, scared and happy that she didn't lose herself to the monster who nearly raped her. She felt like a survivor.

"It's okay, I won't let anyone harm you." Ishmael was heartbroken as he watched his mate cry before him. He stroked her back from a distance, not wanting to get too close and scare her away.

'I will kill that bastard.' He clenched his jaw angrily as he stared at the half-dead man lying on the floor. He wanted him to suffer for what he put his mate through.

After crying for what felt like an eternity, Maeve passed out on Ishmael's shoulder, the exhaustion had finally gotten to her and she welcomed the darkness.

"Elvina..." Was the last words she said before giving in.

Ishmael took her in his arms and lifted her effortlessly as if she weighed the same as a book.

"Your Highness, the ladies are..." The group mistress took notice of the unconscious Maeve in his hands and the blood on his face. "Wha- what happened?"

"I won't be going to meet the ladies... and as for this girl, I'm taking her with me, the payment will be sent tomorrow." He walked a bit before remembering something else. "Do you know anyone called Elvina?"

"Uh, yes, your highness. Elvina and Maeve, the lady in your arms are in the same group."

Ishmael figured the two girls were close especially since Elvina's name was the last word Maeve said. "Send her to the palace with me... NOW!... There's a man in that room, I'll send someone to get him so don't lay a finger on him or try to help him." He ordered before walking off.

"Maeve." He said her name, feeling happy to finally be able to call his bride after years of waiting and nearly giving up.