Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Luther’s POV

*****

6:55 pm, Carrington Manor. Ashville city

He stepped out of the white Rolls-Royce first, snapping his neck. Before him was a five-storey manor oozing grandeur, swallowed by a cold, starry night.

It was painted white and had marble pillars that shone under the soft, golden light of fancy-looking lamp posts. The manor itself was isolated from most of Ashville, the compound surrounded by a small forest reserve greener than most city parks.

Leading up to the manor was a large tarred driveway, a huge black gate sealing the structure away from outsiders.

Just the right amount of "too much" for an Alpha King who wasn’t even from this continent.

Sighing, he adjusted his white suit, turning around the car. He opened the car door for his date—Lysandra, grabbing her outstretched hand and helping her step out.

She wore a form-fitting, handless cream gown, a Birkin clutched in one hand while the other reapplied lipstick.

"Oh, my Alpha," Lysandra grinned, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Keep this up, and Daddy might like you."

Luther arched a brow. "Might?"

"Mm-hm." She nodded, pushing back her hair. "This dinner couldn’t have come at a much better time. I needed the change of scenery after what your bloody mutt did to me today." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Her voice grew icy toward the end, the air itself dropping by a few degrees.

Right...

The school had been ablaze with so much drama before they left.

Particularly about Celeste. And that picture.

Luther couldn’t even check a simple notification on his phone, fearing he’d see that picture of Azrael and Celeste and overreact. Pretending he didn’t care was proving to be a double-edged blade.

The worst part is that he did care. A lot.

"Come on," Lysandra tugged at his hand, smiling softly before leading them toward the manor. Taking one long breath, Luther followed.

At the front door, Lysandra rang the doorbell, tapping her foot expectantly. Within a few seconds, the door clicked open, revealing a man in his fifties with a grey moustache and a black tuxedo.

Stereotypical butler...

"Good evening, Miss Carrington." The man bowed slightly, Aussie accent thick. His eyes flicked between her and Luther. "Lord Maddox is waiting in the dining room."

Lysandra beamed, rubbing Luther’s fingers as if to signal him. "This is it. Just... Act natural."

Natural?

What, was he not acting natural already?

Ignoring the statement, he wore a stiff smile as they advanced into the warm grand foyer.

When they finally got to the dining room, Luther’s gaze almost immediately landed on the Alpha King. How wouldn’t it when his mere presence called for attention?

Maddox sat at the other end of the black rectangular table, phone glued to his ear while he took occasional sips from a glass of wine. A few maids made finishing touches to the dining table—decorated as if it were a banquet and not a simple dinner.

"Phoebe... That’s not what I’m saying." Maddox whispered to the person at the other end while Luther and Lysandra sat beside each other. "I’ll be back in a couple of days. Probably even tomorrow. I’m only here to round up some talks with..."

He paused, finally noticing Lysandra and Luther.

Blinking for a moment, he pulled the phone away from his ear. "We’ll talk later, hon. Lysandra’s here with her new... Boyfriend."

The hesitation before saying "boyfriend" made Luther shift with unease in his seat.

’Dude, everything about this house, the bitch beside you and her father screams with unease.’ his wolf growled. ’I can’t believe—’

"Well," Maddox cleared his throat, voice booming like he had a microphone. Lazily, he got off his seat, adjusting his cufflinks. "Alpha Luther Hale. Europe’s top Alpha."

Luther’s face heated with embarrassment but he quickly got on his feet too. "G–Good evening, Alpha King. It’s... It’s so nice to finally meet you. You have a beautiful home here in Asheville." He stuttered.

Maddox’s smile only widened slightly as he walked toward him. When he got in front of him, he gestured to Luther to take his hand. For a handshake.

"It’s an honour, sir." Luther shook him, keeping his voice firm and shoulders square.

The Australian Alpha King arched a brow, nodding slowly. He didn’t say anything else, pulling away and going back to his seat.

As Luther sat, Lysandra grabbed his leg under the table. "You’re doing great." She whispered.

He kept silent, staring at Maddox as he cleared his throat. "That was my wife. Lysandra’s stepmother," he grabbed a knife. "The woman is already missing my presence. I can’t help but imagine what she would do if we were mates."

Luther’s practised smile faltered at that last word.

Mates.

Instantly, his mind went to Celeste.

She’s explicitly made it clear that she hates him and wants nothing to do with him. But the bond still existed. It still pulled everything, from his thoughts, to his emotions and actions back to her.

Even though he didn’t want it.

So could she feel the same way? Or even something... More?

"So, Luther," Maddox muttered, taking a bite from a steak. "Tell me about yourself. I’ve heard quite a lot already... The youngest Alpha in Europe who’s arguably running one of the most powerful packs."

Luther was shocked by the questioning at first, until Lysandra rubbed his leg gently. Not saying anything. Just a silent gesture that oddly soothed and unnerved him at once.

"Well," Luther poured some wine for himself, popping a grape in his mouth. "As you might’ve heard, I took over the pack two years ago after my father’s passing. There’s... Not much to know about me—"

"Nonsense." Maddox laughed heartily, the sound booming. "Everyone has a lot to know about them. Even a newborn pup. Like you, for example..."

It was at that point that Luther’s brows furrowed. The words felt simple yet scrutinising.

"... You’re dating my daughter," Maddox continued, rubbing a ring on his finger. "Meanwhile I’ve gotten word that you have a mate. The American Alpha King’s daughter."

Chills crawled down Luther’s spine, his grip on his glass tightening slightly.

His lips parted, a deep nauseating feeling hitting him before any words could come out. Even the room seemed to spin, forcing him to take a bite from a chicken drumstick.

"Uhm..." He blinked, breath hitching. "I... I really like Lysandra." He swallowed, barely maintaining eye contact with the man. "Celeste is my mate. I... I won’t even deny it, sir. But—"

"You sound wildly uncertain, young man." The Alpha King leaned back, scratching his blonde beard. "Hear all that stuttering. As someone who never got the chance to find a mate, I’m surprised you’d throw yours away. Is my daughter really so special? Do you have ulterior motives?"

"Daddy?" Lysandra slammed a hand on the table, voice soft. "You’re not being fair here. Isn’t the only thing that matters here love and—"

"If ’love’ was all that mattered, your mother and I would be living happily ever after." Maddox’s expression twitched for a second, eyes narrowing on both his daughter and Luther. "I’m only looking after you."

Luther’s chest tightened, the nausea worsening until he felt like vomiting.

Not wasting a second, he got up, pushing the chair back with a screech against the marble floor. "I... I need to use the restroom."

Lysandra tried grabbing his hand when he moved but he got out of her grip.

.

.

Fortunately, he found a restroom after taking directions from a maid.

Immediately, he stepped in and shut the door behind him. He panted heavily, putting a hand over his mouth. Raising his head, he stared at the small white chandelier light above, which reflected off the marble-tiled walls.

He rubbed his throat, walking up to the toilet and standing in front of it for a second, thinking he’d vomit.

This wasn’t normal and he knew it.

’Were we poisoned with silver or wolfsbane somehow?’ he questioned his wolf, closing his eyes when he didn’t feel anything coming out of his stomach.

’If we were we’d have even worse reactions,’ his wolf responded curtly. ’Maybe this is your nervous system finally warning you that Lysandra is venom cloaked under make-up and perfume. No?’

He grunted, only managing to spit after standing before the toilet for a minute.

Moving to the sink, he rested his palms on its cool surface. A mirror stuck on the wall, reflecting his face back at him. Familiar blonde hair. Blue eyes. Facial features that would probably make most feral.

Yet right now? All he could see was a distorted image of a man so lost in a lie that he no longer knew what the truth was.

"What am I doing?" He asked himself, turning on the tap. After cupping some water in his right palm, he let out a shuddering breath. "How did I get here? What... What is missing in my life?"

Splashing the water on his face, he let himself gasp a little for breath. He let his eyes close, lowering his head and doing nothing for several seconds.

A repetition of one face played in his mind. One person. One... woman who’d toppled his perspective of reality.

Celeste Bloodoak.

Merely thinking about her hit him with a numbing headache, forcing him to grit his teeth.

The bond thrummed with emotions that weren’t his. At the same time, they felt like they belonged in his mind. In his soul.

"Celeste," he muttered, staring at his reflection once again. "I really don’t blame you for your decisions right now..."

Those words lingered like an echo, unwelcome yet true.

"... but I don’t remember making mine."