Chapter 3 The Wolf King's Prisoner

• Aria POV
• “Mate…”
• The man’s deep, rough voice sounded like some ancient spell, carrying a power I couldn’t fight off. It hit my eardrums like a thunderclap.
• Mate?
• No way! No fucking way!
• I’d lost my wolf soul for five whole years.
• Just half an hour ago, the medical report clearly said only my fertility had recovered. There was no sign of my wolf soul waking up.
• But now…
• The moment his chest pressed against mine, the wolf inside me—dead silent for five years—suddenly snapped awake.
• It was roaring and trembling like crazy, greedily craving more of this man’s scent.
• And this man in front of me? The terrifying pressure radiating off him made my soul shiver. He was definitely Alpha level or higher—maybe even… that legendary figure.
• “Let me go…”
• I tried to struggle, but my body went weak on its own.
• His big hand covered my flat stomach—the exact spot where I’d been badly hurt five years ago and had just miraculously healed.
• His palm was burning hot, pressing right through my soaked clothes, right over my newly reborn womb.
• “Don’t move.”
• Valen didn’t let go. Instead, he tightened his grip, his dark golden eyes narrowing sharply.
• As the wolf king with top-tier senses, he clearly smelled something.
• That fresh scent of new flesh mixed with the sweet smell of rain on my skin made the red in his eyes deepen in an instant.
• “This place…”
• “...just healed?”
• “Who did this?”
• He asked softly, his tone eerily calm. But I swear, if anyone admitted it right now, he’d tear them to shreds in a heartbeat.
• I was terrified. This kind of pressure made me want to run for my life.
• I thought he was Lucas’s ally—because in the Blackwood Pack, besides that fake Alpha, who else could carry such an aura?
• “Don’t touch me!”
• Fear pushed me to fight back one last time.
• I suddenly raised my right hand and pulled out the silver hairpin I’d been hiding in my hair—the last weapon I had. Its tip was coated with a strong anesthetic.
• I jabbed it hard at his neck.
• But before my wrist even touched his skin, he caught my hand.
• He barely used any strength—just a gentle squeeze—and my hand went limp. The hairpin clinked as it dropped onto the puddled street.
• I was done for.
• ```
• I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the punishment to come.
• But the pain I expected never showed up.
• Suddenly, my body was lifted off the ground, and I couldn’t help but let out a startled shout.
• He actually scooped me up in his arms, holding me sideways!
• “Looks like the first thing you need to learn is to trust your Mate,” he said, looking down at me with a mix of helplessness and fondness.
• He strode toward the black heavy-duty SUV parked by the roadside, still holding me.
• “King, this…”
• The passenger window rolled down, and a man with a thick beard stared in shock at the scene.
• He was Valen’s personal bodyguard, loyal to the wolf king for years, and had never seen his master—known for avoiding women and even called a “tyrant”—carry a muddy, unknown woman like this.
• “Shut up.”
• Valen spat out the words coldly, not even glancing at the guard.
• He kicked the car door open and gently placed me in the back seat.
• Inside, it was warm and cozy, like springtime. The leather seats were covered with thick blankets. He laid me down carefully, as if handling a fragile, priceless treasure.
• “Drive. Back to the tribe.”
• “But King, the elders are still waiting for you…”
• “I said, back to the tribe.”
• That was an order—no room for argument.
• The car started smoothly, sliding into the rainy night like a black ghost.
• I curled up in the corner, eyes sharp and wary, watching him.
• Valen sat beside me, his long legs crossed. Even in this cramped space, he radiated an undeniable kingly aura.
• He turned his head, eyes locking onto my tightly covered lower belly—a place marked by an old scar from five years ago, when I took a silver poison meant for Lucas.
• His pupils shrank to tiny pinpricks.
• “That’s a silver wound,” he said with certainty, his voice tight like a storm about to break. “If there are signs of wolf soul revival, why hasn’t it healed yet?”
• I bit my lip and looked away, instinctively trying to hide the ugly scar. “No matter what medicine I’ve used these past five years, the wound keeps breaking open again and again. It’s like… like a bottomless pit, constantly sucking away my life.”
• Valen’s brow furrowed deeply, a flicker of doubt crossing his eyes.
• Suddenly, he reached out his hand. I instinctively tried to pull away, but he pressed firmly on my shoulder.
• “Don’t move. Let me see,” he said, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
• His palm was big and warm as it gently covered the ugly scar.
• The next second, a golden-red warmth flowed steadily from his hand into my body.
• ```
• That was... pure Lycan power!
• The old wound that had been nagging at me suddenly started to heal under this force. Even the wolf spirit inside me, which had been starving, let out a satisfied sigh.
• I stared at him, stunned.
• Why save me? Why give me such rare Lycan power?
• Valen looked at my dumbfounded face, and the tight line of his mouth twitched into a faint, almost invisible smile.
• He leaned in close, those dark golden eyes reflecting my messed-up face. His low voice carried a strange, hard-to-explain tenderness:
• “Remember this, little one.
• From now on, your wounds, your life, even every breath you take—they all belong to me.
• Thinking about dying? Not unless I say so.”
• ```
• ```