Ryker

She thought they were done for. 

It took her years to get used to the deadly gash he had slashed through her heart when he left without a backward glance. It took her years to make peace with the truth that he had rejected her and that he was never coming back. 

Words cut deeper than a knife. She wished he had stabbed her with his sword than ripping her into shreds with his sharp words.

He had broken her to the point she lost her will to live. She begged him to stay and pleaded with him to not dishonor their mate bond but he jerked her away and walked off as if she was no one to him. 

She was no one to him only it took her a hard way to realize it. 

She let out a sigh, walked over to her window, and looked over at the capital that she ruled.

He had left her in pieces, perhaps in the hope that she would perish soon. But instead, she built herself up, far stronger. Like a Phoenix, she rose from the ashes and soared.    

She has a deep loathing for barbarians, more so, after what he did to her. They are monsters in the skin of wolves. They are cruel, heartless, and deceitful savages. Putting faith in them is akin to shooting oneself in the foot. But at the moment, they were short on options. 

But she can do this, right? Seven years had passed and she didn’t feel anything for him now except for burning hatred. The love that she felt for him had died down long back in the process of building herself up. She let go of all the burdens that were holding her down including the damned mate bond. Her wolf was the one that was hurt the most but she also wasn’t without pride. With time, she learned to live without her mate.

Her father always told her, she was meant to rule and that’s what she would do.      

A soft purr diverted her attention to the wagging tail under her bed. Her lips spread in a soft smile and she crouched to take hold of the little kitten. Gloria purred when she lifted her and put her on her lap. She scratched her behind her ear. Rosalie giggled when the kitten purred and relaxed on her lap.  

She was the last gift her parents gave her before they lost their lives to a rouge attack.  Being their only child, the responsibility of the Kingdom fell on her. She was still recovering from her mate’s rejection when she was again struck down by her parent's tragic death. That night she cried her soul out. 

And the coming morning she woke up as a new person. She woke up as a queen.

The whole week passed in a blur of usual duties and customs. 

Rosalie was in her courtyard when a messenger arrived. The message was from barbarians. 

“The barbarian chief has agreed to meet her majesty. He is on his way to the capital. Will be here most likely tomorrow,” the messenger announced with a bow. 

“Very well. Avalona will be pleased to have them as a guest,” Rosalia replied in a calm, even tone despite the loud thudding of her heart.

............

The barbarians have arrived, your highness,” Helia informed Rosalie. 

Riyaga, her wolf snorted at the news. Rosalie let out a small smile. It was nice to know both she and her wolf was on the same page. 

“Pleased to know. Tell Graham to make sure the guests are well taken care of,” she glanced at the maid through the mirror and gave her clear instructions. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” the woman curtsied and left to relay the message. 

Rosalie fixed her eyes on her reflection. Right now she was perched on a chair whereas her maids were busy dressing her hair for the day. She looked just like a queen should look, elegant but powerful, beautiful but strong. 

Once her hair was made, she lifted her crown and set it atop her head. The crown was heavy not only in terms of weight but also due to the responsibilities it brought along. She was not a carefree princess anymore but a mighty queen who was bound to her duties.  

Rosalie went about her duties like any other day. In some places, she felt surrounded by the faint scent of her mate that kicked up her heartbeat many notches but she didn’t let it sway her and moved as far away from his scent as she could. Her wolf faked gagging at the smell.

“So how are our guests?” Rosalie asked her beta out of courtesy. Being the hostess, it was her duty to take care of her guests' comfort. 

“They are far worse than what we had assumed, your highness,” Beta sighed with a shake of his head. 

“How so?” 

“They are uncouth, ill-dressed, and dirty. Their sentences begin and end with profanities,” Beta described them in three words.

The queen gave a nod in understanding. Who could know it better than her. Barbarians had their own world away from civilization. Manners and barbarians didn't go hand in hand. They never followed the norms of the society but their own. 

“Bring them to the court. We will have our formal introduction there,” Rosalie instructed. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Beta answered and started briefing her on other important matters. 

............

The announcer announced the arrival of barbarians. A wave of discomfort spread through the room. Everyone's lips turned down into disapproval. No one seemed zealous or even pleased about their arrival in the palace, not even Hendrix.   

So no one rose to greet them when they entered the hall. Beta Alaric was the one ushering them in. The light atmosphere of the room darkened and a wave of fear swept through the crowd. Barbarians' fearsome reputation precedes them. 

She willed her heart to beat normally when she saw them marching in but the damn organ faltered, jumped, and raced as if caught on fire when his intoxicating scent hit her nostrils. He smelled like soil after rain and pines. It was beyond her how a roguish man like him had such a mouth-watering scent. Her eyes of their own darted to him as if they knew where he was. 

He stood out effortlessly with his towering height of 6‘10 and the commanding, dark aura that shrouded him. As he entered, his strides exuded pride and control, reminiscent of a lion on prowl. Heads turned to see him. The stale scent of fear rolled through the room caused by his arrival. To many, the vast hall felt too small and stuffy with him inside it.  

How many years it had been? 7 years. His height was always towering but now it looked intimidating with all the muscles he had grown. The time had changed his appearance so much. He was no longer the lean boy she knew but a man with rippling muscles and a commanding presence. His midnight hair was pulled back into a loose pony whereas a scruffy beard stretched over his sharp jawline. When was the last time he took a bath? she wondered. She couldn’t help her gaze slipping down his throat where sat a prominent protruding of his adam apple. The one she had traced with her tongue countless times. His shoulders resembled mountainscape, broad and powerful while his strong and muscular arms had green veins bulging from the surface, suggesting his affinity for physical exertion. His tanned broad torso was decorated with several scars that he had proudly put on display as a badge of honor. His thighs which were half covered in animal fur resembled giant tree trunks. One look was enough to know he was a man of strength, vigor, and prowess. His whole appearance felt daunting and untamed. Feral is the best word to describe him. The leader of savages. The worst of them all. 

As much as she hated to admit, his powerful presence had superseded all the mighty forces currently housing in the room, including hers.    

Instinctively, her gaze darted up. She fought back a gasp when she realized his kohl-lined eyes were already on her. The way his infamous hazel eyes were digging into her, she felt a chill snake down her spine. There was a predatory glint in them, lethal darkness that could drown the whole world in them. They emanated coldness but interest too as they studied her closely.