Chains to Crowns

“Hey sweetie, how you feeling?” She looked down from his kind blue eyes.

“It hurts, Derrek.”

“I’ve got something that’ll help.” He sloshed a bottle at the fourteen-year-old.

She looked at the TV, it was blank. She hadn’t watched how he made it work, and she couldn’t remember. She looked around the sides of the TV and found some buttons, she pressed each one… nothing happened. She stuck her bottom lip out on a pout. She sighed and turned to the books, she looked at the spines, unsure what she would like. There were so many books her head was spinning with the choice.

“Klara?” a male voice made her jump and spin around. She saw the light brown-haired man from the day before, but couldn’t remember his name. He stood in the doorway, “It’s Trey do you remember?” She nodded, he’d been nice, nicer than anyone she’d ever met. “You looking for a book?” He smiled.

“Erm…” could she tell him? Was he here to tell her off for being in this room alone? “I-I wanted to watch a film… but…” she stuttered. Trey’s head cocked to the side. He went over, seeing that it was turned off at the wall. “This switch here, you flick it.” He did so as he spoke, a small crack echoed around the room as the TV turned on standby. He picked up the remote and showed her how to turn it on.

Once Klara was settled on the sofa with a film going Trey asked, “How are you feeling from yesterday’s run?”

“A little sore still.” She watched the opening titles as she spoke.

“Did you stop at all?” She shook her head, “That’s impressive,” he praised, knowing that must have been at least a nine-hour run, which even the fittest would struggle to keep going at that pace. “I was trying to not get caught,” she whispered.

“But I’m glad we did, you’re safe.” Klara chewed her lip. “It’s OK not to feel safe, but you are,” he added.

She looked at the screen. “He’ll hit me,” her voice full of knowing and surety.

“No-one will hit you.” She felt like she could be honest with this male, but also… if she annoyed him enough he would show her how they were all liars. “They all do, you will too.”

Trey sighed. He sank into the sofa and paused the film. “Can I tell you something?” he asked. Klara nodded, not looking at him. “My Alpha used to beat me, he claimed it made me stronger. Said I would learn how to be a good beta like my dad. I was scared to do anything wrong, sometimes I didn't realise I did wrong… but apparently, I had. Now I’m not saying it’s the same, what happened to you was worse. But I know what it’s like to be scared and it’s exhausting.” Klara nodded, it was exhausting. “No-one is going to lay a hand on you, Marc won’t hurt you; you’re his mate. And that means you will become Queen when you’re ready. And being Queen means no-one can hurt you. No-one can lay a hand on you.” She turned to him, seeing he was staring directly at her. She frowned, some of what he said didn’t make sense.

“Mates hurt each other all the time,” she whispered.

“True mates don’t… they can’t.” Her frown deepened at his words.

“Males always hurt their mate.” She’d seen it.

“What does your wolf say?” Klara blushed, her wolf was saying all kinds of things.

“She likes him… she wants his fur against hers.” She blushed harder. Her wolf never wanted anyone to touch them, but she wanted Marc to, which Klara found a little strange. “Does she trust him?” Trey asked gently, she looked down and gave a small nod.

Trey turned the film back on, they sat in silence for a while just watching until Trey declared, “I think this calls for cookies.” Trey smiled standing.

“I’m not hungry,” Klara blurted before she could stop herself.

“Cookies aren’t for when you’re hungry.” He chuckled quietly, “I’m going to get some, If you want to take them from my plate you’re welcome to.” He grinned before disappearing.

They sat watching the film, a plate of cookies on the seat between them. Trey encouraged Klara to eat a few, the doctor’s warning that she needed to eat even if not hungry ringing in her ears. Trey’s words also swam around her head… it didn’t make sense, mates hurt each other all the time, at least they did at the Silversmith pack. Females constantly had bruises, it was life. Males got angry, their wolves lashed out.

When her mum had died, her dad had no-one to take his anger out on so he used Klara. At first he apologised, said he wouldn’t do it again, then he did. Klara tried to run away so she was locked up, never allowed to leave her room.

She didn’t pay much attention to the film, too many thoughts and memories swirling in her head until a noise made her look up. Marc, his tall frame leaning against the door frame was smiling. “Want a cookie?” Trey held the plate up.

“You’re a bad influence,” Marc commented, reaching for one of the sweet treats, “Congratulations on the pup by the way.” Marc nodded to Trey.

“Oh, thanks.“ Trey grinned before running his fingers through his light brown locks.

“Let the chef know of any odd cravings.”

“Will do, she’s only six weeks,” Trey had a mixture of delight, proud and trepidation crossing his features. “You better look after her,” Marc warned, a warning that was far from needed.

“Yes Marc,” Trey said a little exasperated. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Trey smiled softly to Klara as he picked up a couple of cookies to take with him.

Marc soon occupied the seat Trey had just left. “He’s having a pup?” Klara asked quietly, Trey didn’t seem very nice anymore. “Yeah, Sophie’s ecstatic.”

“Least he won’t hit her while she’s pregnant,” she muttered honestly. Marc stilled, his gold eyes trained directly towards the small female, wondering what kind of pack the Silversmiths really were. “Trey can’t hit Sophie, she’s his mate,” he said carefully.

“Why does everyone say that?” Klara peered up, a mixture of frustration and confusion twisting her features. “Why do you think mates hit each other?” Marc asked gently, his voice soft and comforting. “They do… dad hit mum, females always have bruises… always.” She shrugged.

“They’re forced mates,” Marc came to the conclusion and spoke it aloud.

“What’s that?” Klara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I ask how your pack find their mates?”

“The ceremony,” she said simply. Marc cocked his head questioningly. “I… I don’t know what happens, dad wouldn’t let me go… I just know when you’re nineteen you have to go to the ceremony… and a male picks you. That’s all mum told me when I was little.”

“Klara, can you look at me?” She turned her head obediently.

“We have two kinds of mates. True mates, like we are. And forced mates. True mates are where there’s the mate bond, that instant when you look into each other’s eyes and your wolf tells you. We had it, you remember?” Klara nodded, “Well, that’s the mate bond. The other type are forced mates; these are where the person chooses the mate, they overrule their wolf and pick someone. They force the bond through marking. Forced mates can be… forced. When the male marks the female she feels like she loves the male, that’s against the law here though.”

“How does that?… you can still hit me.”

“True mates cannot harm each other… not on purpose.” he knew he was simplifying it; mates could spar, it was his sister’s favourite pass time trying to destroy Wade in sparring.

“You calm my wolf little one, with you… I can’t get angry.”

“You were angry when you saw my back.” She distinctively remembered that. She knew he was lying to her. “I wasn’t angry, I was in pain seeing how much you’re in pain.”

“Oh,” she still thought he was lying.

He’d hit her… he was just pretending.