Ultimatum

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Fie Wright's P. O. V

All around me I hear loud voices as everyone in the great hall bursts into whispers, some people shuffling about here and there but still managing to stay concealed within the shadows. The pack kneeling all around me too squirm uncomfortably but with dumb founded looks on their faces.

I, however, try to make sense of the situations while I feel like my head has been dunked into a vat of bubbling oil. I can barely hear anything. Sort of how when you're travelling somewhere with a change in altitude and your ears start to buzz and you lose clarity till they get blocked off completely and all you can hear is a dimmed down version of your usual hearing.

"My King. I'm afraid I must have heard incorrectly?" A familiar voice speaks up as Marcus regains his voice first.

My rhythmically normal pounding heart starts to increase its tempo as the entirety of what has just passed dawns on me. The glittering of butterflies in my stomach turn wild as a tormenting knot digs deeper into my torso. My hand rests on the cool marble floor, relishing and seeking comfort in the drastic temperature it brings to my overly heating up body.

"I do not like repeating myself." That same voice speaks up, shivers raking down my back as my eyes raise from off of the floor, only to find myself unable to gaze into the daunting man seated before me. My face pales but yet I feel like every fibre of my being is on fire as the impact of whats happening actually hits me.

That once continuous pounding in my head like an overwhelming migraine settles down to a gentle thrum till finally it fades away completely and an intense pressure erupts entirely around my head, my eyes almost turning dark with the force as I scrunch them shut completely. As soon as the overly weird sensation comes, it goes away as one single sound resounds in my head like a stuck record. Everything melting away as my breath seizes at the word coming clearer and clearer into coherence.

Mate.

That one word is all it takes for my eyes to snap open and to trail to the hooded gaze of the King on the throne, not being able to see anything except an obscure darkness. Yet, I still know it's his voice reverberating in my mind as I finally understand. Ezra's previous words making sense of my wolf calling for something.

More like someone.

My mate.

Letting out a shuddering breath, I try my best to calm my senses even though it's all in naught. Glancing around, I take note of how everyone slowly starts to stand from their kneeling positions. Copying their actions, I try to ignore the tingling sensation in my leg of being in such a peculiar posture as my head remains lowered. My hands are shaking as I clench them together, trying to take in as deep a breath as possible.

"All of you please follow me," the Minister speaks up as he throws a panic strikes glance at the foreboding man besides him before shuffling over to us. He snaps his fingers once and someone else scuttles over to him, taking the papers from him and then hurrying over to the King's side in a matter of a few seconds. The Minister then returns his sharp eyed gaze to our group and motions for us  to follow.

I just about manage to do so even with my eyes turned in the direction of my-

Nope. Not possible. My wolf must be drugs. She has had to have the wolf equivalent of a cat on catnip.

There is no way possible on earth- in any of the parallel universes- where that King is my mate.

My line of sight gets blocked off by Brutus pointing forward, turning my direction to the Minister in front of me who hurries off out of sight of the King and over to another set of doors on the opposite side of where we were stood before. My throat dries as it feels like a pair of eyes sear right into my back. Even though eyes of all the people in the huge hall gaze upon us, the most important ones can be felt right into my very core leading to my soul.

          

The entry way is dim lighted even with the huge glass windows peeping in between slivers of bare walls. No wooden panelling or any covering of the sort just true raw stone which seems to be carved in a flurry of images and vivid depictions. The sun going down can be seen through the windows which explains the lack of light along with the frigid chill descending down the empty long hallway that greets us. Walking through it, none of us says a word nor even attempting to use the mind link as we follow the portly old man. Everyone left behind in the hall, even Ron.

I believe we're all in shock at the turn of events. The true purpose for what we came for flying straight out of my mind. I feel incredibly guilty for that undoubtedly but the happenings of just a few minutes ago reverberates through my being like a gong being struck in preparation for a ceremonial function.

The hall ends soon enough and we enter into a foyer of sorts with an elegant staircase starting in the centre and travelling up to both sides of the room above us. The foyer decorated with immaculate ornaments and towering statues of porcelain figures holding up lighted candles that cast shadows over every object in the room. The flame billowing and gleaming enough to do a good enough task of encasing the area in a warm glow.

"Just a little further." Mutters the man leading our delegation. He seems to have a way about him, both intrigued yet also putting up a farce of being utterly bored with taking us to and fro places as if he has better things to do. Taut rigid shoulders and an even tighter rigid grip on the bannister as we ascend the stairs. The area branches off into further rooms which we are lead to. The man opens the door and steps to the side, motioning for us to enter. They all enter before me and just as I'm about to pass through the threshold, a hand is placed to bar my way as everyone turns to the Minister in alarm.

"The King will want to talk to her in private." That's enough to cause the frayed nerves to erupt once more as my eyes connect with that of Marcus in the room who shakes his head.

Go. You'll be safe. Don't worry. We'll wait here for you.

The words are meant to be comforting but they're anything but considering I'll have to meet the man alone. The mere thought of anything like that happening causing my hands to shake once more. I'd like to just jump into my bed back home and pull the comforter up over my head so that I can hide in a cocoon of warmth and my own personal safety.

Everything about this trip is pulling me out of my comfort zone and yanking me- quite literally- into a world of the unknown.

I follow the man a little ways down the corridor till we reach a room right at the end, he doesn't make a move to enter the door and with a loud sigh from me, I turn the door handle and step over the threshold and into the room. The room itself was fit for a Royal- no pun intended- with every object more expensive than the next. It looked to be a sitting room with crème sofa's strewn about and a light golden toned coffee table laying in between. A large rug lays strewn underneath it all and a raging fireplace is situated besides it with various figurines stack on the mantle just above it.

I turn back to see the door is closed and instead of making a run for it like every fibre of my being wishes for me to do so, I stand my ground and instead focus my gaze on the windows opposite of the wall to where I stand. Moving closer to them, I take in the manicured gardens with the idillic hedges filled to the brim with flowers, some in their beds while others formed into shapes and patterns in flower pots. Fountains situated in the middle with water trickling out into streams from the spouts and gliding towards the rest to shoot out of the top in one big burst.

"Mate."

The word resounding through the room makes me jump in my spot and my hand clenching into a fist as I only now notice the presence of an intimidating person. Gulping, I brace myself as I turn around. Not wanting to disrespect the King in front of me. The King who claims I'm his mate.

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