The Claim

Killorn soon helped Ophelia into the purple gown. The cold wind made her shiver, for the dress was thin. But he possessively grabbed her elbows, pulling her to his side. She realized he didn't intend to bed her just yet. He had made her change out of the Decade Tribute ceremony clothes… for what purpose? She could only peer up at him helplessly.

When they walked out of the tent, everyone was gathered. Ophelia nearly fainted. An older man threatened her father with a sword. Eves' guards surrounded Matriarch Eves, but they were outnumbered by Killorn's men who had drawn their weapons. Suddenly there was a commotion.

"Oh my god…"

Ophelia saw all of the Alphas and Vampire Leaders glance their way. Almost everyone was gathered. They looked like they'd seen a ghost. Not a single person dared to move or speak. Then, without warning, a few of the advisors and Betas quickly bowed their heads.

"Y-Your Highness, we didn't think you'd be here."

Ophelia immediately knew her husband was no human. This just confirmed it. Vampires and werewolves, especially the one in charge of their clan, were never this polite before a human man. 

At the gathering of a crowd, Ophelia finally saw Nathan who pushed through the onlookers. He was confused, his eyes flickering around. Then, he smelled it. Everyone did, it was why they were gathered. There was a heavy stench of blood and not just any, but a vampire's.

"That whore!" Nathan cried out the second he saw her, even though he was pinned in by a cross of four swords—captured by Killorn's men. 

House Eves and Nileton were grotesquely losing, it wasn't even considered a battle.

"Say it again."

Ophelia thought death himself was next to her. Killorn spoke softly, but even the lack of wind brought chills down grown men's spines. His dark locks swayed around his eyes, reminding people of a beast waiting to kill.

Neil's family paled at his behavior, so dangerous that they eyed each other in confusion.

"What did they call your new Duchess?"  Killorn murmured.

"Something that she isn't," a Mavez knight snarled.

"A sorry excuse of an insult," another humored.

"Sounds a lot like the man who spoke it." Killorn tilted his head, his piercing grey eyes holding every single man in place. He was chillingly calm, but the wildness of his gaze sent them shivering in their boots.

"S-she is now part of our family, as Neil's chosen tribute, t-they were going to—"

"Ah, you mean the corpse who couldn't even get it up?" Killorn remarked, taking Ophelia to the side, giving them a view of the dead body.

"Y-Your Highness, y-you!" Patriarch Nileton stammered out. Not even he had the guts to insult one of the most deadliest men to walk this earth. They said not even a hundred men could hold off Duke Mavez.

The Duke was known for his bloody presence. Even now, when everyone was aghast and terrified at the sight of a deceased body, no one dared to protest. 

Mavez knights held Patriarch Nileton at knifepoint, strapped and trapped by a cage of swords. 

"What have you done?" Matriarch Eves demanded in disbelief. "You abandon our granddaughter and you—"

"Show some respect!" A voice barked at her from behind.

Ophelia instantly recognized him as someone in charge, most likely an Alpha judging from his powerful stance.

"You are in the presence of Alpha Mavez."

Ophelia's heart fell to her stomach. What did they just say? Her head snapped up to her husband in disbelief. 

Alpha Mavez as in… the most ruthless man to walk the earth? Rumor had it he slaughtered his entire family in one sitting, sparing no one, but his younger siblings. He massacred men left and right on the night of a red moon enough for the incident to be titled the infamous Forest of Blood. He cleansed his cruel father's regime and began a new one.

"W-what?" Matriarch Eves murmured, stumbling back in shock for the first time. Aaron quickly tried to hold her, but it was impossible.

"A battle of heirs," Ophelia murmured, finally realizing it. All this time, she was kept in seclusion by Matriarch Eves, tucked away from society. She seldom received word of the outside world, much less as a human girl hearing anything about the realm of werewolves. 

When Ophelia married her husband, she didn't know anything about him and neither did her family. Humans were rarely included in werewolf gossip, except the major changes that occurred.

That night, Killorn hadn't just gone off to fight any battle. He left her to become Alpha. 

"It was a race for power and he won," the same man repeated with a slight grimace, for that violent night left a bad taste in everyone's mouths. "One of the youngest Alphas for five centuries now."

"Impossible!" Nathan cried out in disbelief, but he knew this was the truth.

Ophelia was frightened by Nathan's accusing expression, remembering the words he had said to his younger brother.

"My son…" Patriarch Nileton stumbled back. He couldn't fathom this loss. First, his son was dead. Now, he had lost a precious asset that could heal his people with something as regenerative as blood. Ophelia was a tool he couldn't afford to lose.

"Let's be rational," Patriarch Nileton suddenly said. The switch was almost instant. He recognized a son had died today, but he was a man of many children. He still had Nathan.

"Ophelia belongs to my son. We chose her at the ceremony and she had accepted it as her fate. She was a tribute willingly presented to us, every Alpha and Vampire Head was there to witness it," Patriarch Nileton elaborated. 

Killorn's eyes flashed. So his intel had been accurate—they placed Ophelia into the ceremony knowing full well who she belonged to. Those men were fools to have not realized her true identity as his wife, but then again, he never announced it to the world. 

"You had been warned once before," Killorn coldly murmured.

Matriarch Eves froze.

"Everyone has." Killorn revealed a lifeless smile. "Ophelia Eves Mavez is off-limits. Did you forget?"

A chill rippled through the onlookers. Spines stiff, goosebumps crawling, everyone was frozen with terror. Not a single person dared to speak. Even breathing was difficult.

Everyone knew who and what Killorn was implying. One of the five times the Supreme Overlords joined hands, and it was for a human girl—Ophelia. Both the Vampire and Werewolf Overlords made it clear: Ophelia's blood was barred.

"The Decade Tribute Ceremony is tradition," Matriarch Eves suddenly declared. "Set by your people to protect us, humans. My granddaughter was a willing tribute. We didn't drag her here kicking and screaming."

Matriarch Eves remained calm, but her hands were trembling in fear. She had just spoken against a werewolf. An alpha. The alpha.  Growls filled the air at the sign of disrespect.

Killorn let out a soft chuckle, almost amused. Then, Killorn's gaze flickered to Ophelia for a split second. So, she went there on her own two feet. When he saw her exasperated expression, he returned his attention to the squabbling relatives.

"You lied to my wife and said I was dead," Killorn coldly remarked.

"Audacious!" a man shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Matriarch Eves, quick to make a lasting impression on  the powerful alpha. "How dare a lowly human—" 

"It was a m-misunderstanding," Ophelia choked out, grabbing onto Killorn's sleeves tightly in the hope that he'd end this chaos.

"Good. It clears things up." Without warning, Killorn grabbed her and yanked her close.

"Ophelia and Neil were supposed to c-consummate their union tonight!" Nathan realized they had more grounds than anyone. "As long as Neil has consummated with his tribute, they're official, there was a ceremony and everything—"

"You hear that, Ophelia?" Killorn glanced down at his frozen wife. He grabbed the hand clutching his cloak. Her head snapped up in fear, as she tightened the grip.

Ophelia was scared he'd push her away. 

"As long as we consummate a marriage, it's official," Killorn revealed in a chilling tone. He had more brains than he had brawns.

Ophelia's mind went blank. Her husband was an intelligent man, with the face of a noble son, and the mind of one too. 

Nathan gaped at the man's words, pointing a shaky finger at him. "Y-you b-b—"

"Listen to me," Patriarch Nileton attempted again. "We can negotiate. I can pay for Ophelia, I—"

"You disobeyed the Overlord's command." Killorn tilted his head, a cruel smile on his face. "You'll pay for that."

Patriarch Nileton felt the blood drain from his face. He staggered back and flinched. The Mavez knights used silver swords, despite being monsters themselves. The realization would've humored him in any other circumstances. But not this one. No, not now.

"Come, Ophelia, let's give them what they want."

Ophelia froze. Killorn grabbed her hand, his warmth melting the iciness weighing her down. She felt like a rag doll being pulled by him back into the room. The place where Neil's dead body laid uncomfortably, his heart on the ground.

Not daring to disobey her husband in front of a crowd, Ophelia could do nothing, but helplessly allow herself to be pulled back into the tent.

"Ophelia!" the Matriarch sharply reprimanded. "Come here. Right now."

Ophelia glanced over her shoulder. She made eye contact with her frightening grandmother. The hairs on her neck stood up. Goosebumps peppered her skin. 

Ophelia was reminded of the whippings on the back of her thighs. She remembered the Matriarch personally canning her. She recalled her father attempting to shield her from the blows, but was injured instead, leaving him a cripple that couldn't properly protect his own daughter.

"Ophelia," Killorn called, squeezing her hand.

Immediately, Killorn had her full attention. Ophelia's head snapped to him, reminding him of a startled puppy. He squeezed her hand. Her gaze fell to their entwined fingers.

"God damn it, someone stop them!" Nathan cried out in disbelief, turning to his father who then turned to Matriarch Eves. "My brother is married to her, the priest, I—Neil said so himself!" 

Matriarch Eves had a choice to make. And she was not an idiot. Having Alpha Mavez on her side was far more intimidating than some squabbling vampires.

"They're not," Matriarch Eves suddenly announced. "She is just a chosen tribute, that is all." 

Patriarch Nileton gasped. That was not what he was told. "Matriarch Eves, you—"

"Take her." Matriarch Eves made up her mind. 

Aaron quickly shook his head in disagreement. Werewolf or not, he refused to let his daughter fall into the hands of a supernatural. "Ophelia, wait, come here—" 

"Hush, Aaron," Matriarch Eves demanded of her son. 

Aaron, Ophelia's father, attempted to side-step the sword, but his cane made it difficult. He could barely stand on his good leg, for the other was shattered by his own mother. 

"M-my Papa," Ophelia frantically turned to her husband. "Please don't…" 

Ophelia's voice died in her throat. She glanced up at her husband, almost pleading with him for mercy. Her Papa was the only one that cared about her. 

Seeing her concerned expression that finally wanted something from him, Killorn simply stared back at her. 

Ophelia was unable to voice what she wanted, but Killorn could see the answer drip from her eyes. She was practically begging him with those glimmering pupils of hers, reminding him of a valley of violets.

"Gerald," Killorn stated.

"Fine, fine," Gerald mused, placing his sword down, noticing the power exchange that just occurred. The two might not realize it, but Ophelia had far too much influence on Killorn than anyone would like.

Gerald thought he was the only one who witnessed it, but apparently not. 

"Ophelia belongs to House Nileton!" Nathan suddenly began. "We chose her—"

"You said it yourself. All I need to do is consummate the marriage tonight," Killorn said in a dark and dangerous voice. "You can have the priest watch in the tent for all I care." 

Before the Matriarch could speak, Killorn took Ophelia by the hand and began dragging her into the forest. The last thing she saw over her shoulders was her grandmother's furious expression, the very one that watched over Ophelia as she was pummeled by a cane. Then, she heard Nathan's loud protest outside.

"No, we can't let the whore—" Nathan sharply turned to Patriarch Nileton. "Father!"

"Silence boy, I'm thinking," Patriarch Nileton murmured to himself, for he hadn't expected this turn of events.

Then, everything went quiet. Ophelia's stomach churned. Branches broke underneath his feet. Snap. Snap. Snap. She could barely hear beyond her beating heart, her gaze trembling. His hands were warm, his large presence taking up her tiny one. She was pulled in the direction of an enormous wooden house, surrounded by smaller tents. She realized that this was where his pack had set up ground.

Ophelia didn't even have time to admire the stars. She was pulled into the house, where a bed awaited her.