My Mate

Winter's eyes were swollen, her head aching relentlessly. Since the last night, not a single drop of water had passed her lips, and her torment was only amplified by the curses her father had hurled at her, even in his final moments. It was a harrowing ordeal.

Her focus was abruptly captured by a subtle glow infiltrating the dungeon. Straining her eyes, she discerned the silhouette of a man drawing near, holding a lamp whose radiance, once intensified, stung her eyes. She instinctively closed them, attempting to acclimate to the sudden light.

With a creaking sound, the lock on the iron gate of the dungeon was opened, and a figure stepped inside. It was Raphael Kingston.

"Why am I alive?" Winter managed to ask, mustering whatever strength she had left.

"Because you need to remember the atrocities your father committed against me, my parents, and my clan!" Raphael's voice boomed with anger.

Winter felt the weight of blame on her shoulders, a burden she had carried for so long. "Everyone blames me for everything," she whispered. "First, my father did, then the people of my clan, and now, the person who is supposed to be my mate," said Winter and tears streamed down her cheeks. 

"I am not your mate," Raphael corrected her sharply.

"Fine, you are not," Winter replied, acknowledging his words. "Then do what you came here for, and end my life too. I don't even know the extent of my father's actions against your parents and clan," she confessed. This newfound strength within her surprised even herself, but she knew she had to face her fate.

Struggling to her feet, Winter took faltering steps toward Raphael. "Complete your revenge and find closure," she declared.

Raphael let out a mirthless chuckle. "You don't get to order me around, Winter," he retorted.

"I'm not ordering; I'm asking you," Winter asserted firmly. "My father caused you immense pain, and only my death can quench your anger. I am ready to face my destiny."

Growing increasingly frustrated, Raphael couldn't bear her words any longer. In an impulsive surge of emotion, he reached out and began strangling her. 

Raphael's inner wolf screamed at him, jolting him out of his violent impulse. He quickly released his grip on Winter, a rush of guilt and concern washing over him as he saw her crumple, unconscious. 

Reacting swiftly, he reached out, ensuring her head didn't meet the hard floor. With gentle strength, he cradled her in his arms, her hair cascading in the air around her. 

The guard outside the gate gazed at their new king in surprise. Raphael brought Winter out of the dungeon and took her straight to his chamber. 

The palace servants who came across Raphael were shocked for a moment to see that sight. They whispered among themselves how Winter was supposed to die, but Raphael kept her alive. Now, he had in her in his arms, heading to his chamber. 

"Your Majesty!?" Nathan, the Beta and close confidant, muttered. He followed Raphael and asked him where he was taking Winter to. 

"Call the physician," Raphael commanded him. 

Nathan headed to bring the royal physician because Winter did not look in a good condition.  

Raphael gently settled Winter on the soft mattress in his chamber and brushed away her hair strands from her face. 

"Why are you my mate? I am unable to harm you," Raphael murmured, his anguish visible in his words. 

"Your Majesty, Physician Rowan is here," a maidservant announced and Raphael stood straight to turn around. 

"Examine her," Raphael ordered and took a few steps away from the bed. 

Rowan promptly stepped up and sat on the chair, which another servant placed there. He checked Winter's pulse first, which was quite weak and also sensed the high fever. He even saw the deep red marks on her wrists and pushed the sleeve a little up only to find more bruises which had turned purplish. 

Rowan then checked her pupils and stood up. "Your Majesty, the young woman has a weak body. She has high fever and I believe she has bruises at several places on her body. It seems she has been beaten up lately. I will give a fever reducing medicine for the young woman. Other than that, she needs rest," he elaborated to Raphael. 

"May I know if this young woman has taken any meal? Judging by her facial pallor and parched lips, it seems she hasn't even sipped a drop of water," Rowan inquired.

Raphael turned his attention to the maidservant and instructed her to fetch some soup for Winter. He then addressed the physician, "Provide me with the medicine; I'll ensure she takes it."

Rowan rummaged through his bag and retrieved a small box containing five pills. "Here, Your Majesty," he handed the tiny box to Raphael.

"You may depart," as soon as the physician received the command, he exited the chamber.

Raphael settled into a chair and carefully examined Winter's hands. As Rowan had described, there were deep bruises on both of them.

"Nathan!"

Raphael summoned his Beta with a commanding voice, and Nathan promptly entered the chamber.

"Your Majesty," Nathan bowed, his eyes initially fixed on Raphael's shoes.

"Was Winter subjected to torture last night?" Raphael inquired.

"No, Your Majesty," Nathan replied. "The soldiers reported that she refused to drink water when it was offered to her."

"Hmm."

"Is something amiss, Your Majesty?" Nathan questioned, finally meeting Raphael's gaze. "I've never seen you express concern for a woman," he added, adopting a less formal tone.

Raphael hesitated to disclose to Nathan how he had sensed Winter's scent the moment he entered the grand hall, realizing she was his mate. The reason was clear: he himself didn't want to accept Winter as his mate.

However, his wolf held a different view, having already recognized Winter as his mate. 

"Isn't she supposed to be deceased, Your Majesty?" Nathan eventually inquired.

"She is," Raphael admitted.

"Then, Your Majesty, perhaps we shouldn't bother with her treatment. It's best to leave her in this state," Nathan suggested.

Raphael clenched his fingers and stated firmly, "I have no intention of granting her an easy death."