Claimed by My Mafia Alpha King

Nicolas’s POV

*Mate. Go back. Check on mate.*

My wolf’s voice clawed at the inside of my skull. Insistent. Demanding.

I’d barely made it twenty feet down the corridor before the howling started.

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath.

*Need to see her. Protect her. OURS.*

The bond pulled at my chest. Uncomfortable. Like something vital had been left behind.

I shoved the feeling down. Hard.

She needed space. Time to process. Time to understand what being my mate meant.

Time to stop looking at me like I was going to rip her throat out.

*But she’s alone—*

"I said shut up."

My wolf fell silent. Sulking. But I could feel him pacing restlessly beneath my skin.

"My lord."

Roman’s voice cut through my thoughts. He’d been walking behind me for the past minute, silent except for his footsteps.

I didn’t turn around. Just kept walking.

"With all due respect," he continued, his tone carefully measured, "I must voice my concerns about this situation."

Here we go.

"Speak," I said flatly.

Roman drew in a breath. I heard him choosing his words carefully.

"Irina is not a suitable choice for luna."

I said nothing. Just kept walking.

"The pack won’t accept her," Roman pressed. "Our people will think it’s absurd. She’s an omega. A cast-out. Someone with no standing, no family support, no—"

"I’m aware of what she is."

"Then you must also be aware of the rumors." His footsteps quickened slightly, matching my pace. "About her and Maxim. About what she... what they..."

He trailed off. Smart man. He knew better than to finish that sentence.

But the words hung in the air anyway. Unspoken but present.

*What she did. Who she fucked. How she threw herself at another alpha.*

My hands curled into fists.

"The rumors are extremely damaging," Roman continued. "If you claim her as your queen, people will say the Moon Goddess gave you damaged goods. They’ll say—"

"I don’t care what they’ll say."

"You should." His voice hardened slightly. Rare for him. "You’re not just an alpha, my lord. You’re the king. Your choice of mate reflects on the entire kingdom."

I stopped walking.

Turned slowly to face him.

Roman met my gaze. Steady. Unflinching.

One of the few men brave enough to hold my stare.

"Are you finished?" I asked quietly.

"No." He straightened his shoulders. "The stories about her pursuing Maxim—about her throwing herself at him repeatedly—they’re widespread. Multiple sources. Servants who witnessed it. Pack members who—"

"Enough."

The word came out sharp. Final.

Roman fell silent.

I looked at him for a long moment. Saw the concern in his eyes. The genuine worry.

He wasn’t trying to undermine me. He was trying to protect me.

Protect my reputation. My standing. My power.

All the things I’d built through blood and violence.

"I heard you," I said evenly. "Now drop it."

Roman’s jaw tightened. But he nodded. "As you wish, my lord."

I turned back around. Continued walking.

But his words echoed in my head. Wouldn’t stop echoing.

*Threw herself at him. Pursued him. Wanted him.*

My wolf snarled. Confused and angry.

*No. Wrong. Mate wouldn’t. She’s OURS.*

But what if she did?

What if the rumors were true?

What if my mate—my fated mate, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself—had spent months chasing after another alpha?

The thought made rage burn through my chest. Hot. Vicious.

I remembered her eyes. Those storm-blue eyes looking up at me on the auction stage.

Terrified. Absolutely terrified.

And then later, in the bedroom. When she’d asked if I was going to reject her.

That same fear. That same certainty that I would hurt her.

Like she expected it. Like she was used to it.

That wasn’t the look of someone who’d pursued an alpha. Who’d thrown herself at anyone.

That was the look of prey.

But then why would so many people say otherwise?

Why would the entire Iron Thorn pack spread the same story?

My fingers flexed. Curled into fists.

I wanted to go back. Wanted to demand answers from her.

Wanted to know the truth.

But I’d seen the way she flinched when I got angry. The way she curled into herself. The way she looked at me like I was a monster.

Because I was.

I’d killed my own brothers. Slaughtered anyone who stood in my way. Built my kingdom on bones and blood.

And she knew it.

Could smell it on me. See it in my eyes.

*Give her time,* I told myself. *Give her space.*

Not everyone could accept becoming the alpha king’s mate overnight. Especially not someone who’d been through... whatever she’d been through.

The bruises on her arms flashed through my mind. The scars. The way her body had felt so fragile when I’d carried her.

Someone had hurt her. Repeatedly.

Whether she’d wanted it or not—and everything in me screamed that she hadn’t—someone had broken her.

And I was going to find out who.

"I’m going to arrange transportation," I said to Roman without looking back. "Get the car ready. I want to leave within the hour."

"Where are we taking her, my lord?"

"Home." The word felt strange. "To my territory. Somewhere safe."

Somewhere I could keep her. Protect her.

Figure out the truth.

Roman didn’t argue. Just pulled out his phone and started making calls.

I continued down the corridor. Toward the main offices where the trading post managers worked.

I’d have them prepare everything. Get her things—what few things she had. Make arrangements.

Remove any trace of this place from her.

The hallway stretched ahead. Clean. Well-lit. Nothing like the basement cells or the auction hall.

This was the private section. Where wealthy clients brought their purchases for initial... use.

I’d walked these halls dozens of times before. Checking on operations. Making sure everything ran smoothly.

The sounds were familiar. Doors opening and closing. Muffled voices. The occasional moan or cry.

Standard for a place like this.

I passed one door. Then another.

Paid them no attention. Wasn’t my business what happened behind—

A scent hit me.

Faint. Barely there.

But unmistakable.

Vanilla. Sweet. With that underlying note of fear that I’d come to recognize.

My mate.

My entire body went rigid.

Why would her scent be here? In this section?

She was supposed to be in the bedroom. Resting. Safe.

*MATE.* My wolf’s voice exploded in my head. *FIND HER.*

I turned. Followed the scent.

It grew stronger with each step.

Led me to a door halfway down the corridor.

Closed. Locked probably.

From inside—sounds.

Movement. Heavy breathing.

And something else.

A whimper. Muffled. Desperate.

Female.

My vision started to darken at the edges.

*No. NO.*

I moved closer. Pressed my ear against the door.

Heard it clearly now.

A man’s voice. Low. Satisfied.

And underneath it—her. Making sounds I never wanted to hear from my mate.

Sounds of pain. Of fear.

The bond flared hot in my chest. Screaming. Demanding.

*PROTECT. SAVE. KILL.*

My hand closed around the door handle.

Locked.

Didn’t matter.

I stepped back. Raised my foot.

And slammed it into the door with everything I had.

The wood splintered. The lock tore free.

The door crashed inward.

My eyes took in the scene in fragments.

Two people. Against the far wall.

A male figure. Dark clothes. Broad shoulders.

Pressing someone smaller against the wall. Caging them.

His hand—over her mouth.

His other hand—

Light blonde hair spilled over his arm. Disheveled. Familiar.

*Mine.*

The word wasn’t a thought. It was a roar.

My wolf surged forward. Demanding blood. Demanding destruction.

I crossed the distance in two strides.

Grabbed the male by the back of his shirt.

Ripped him away from her.

He stumbled. Turned.

"Get off," I growled.