The Imposter

“Let go of me, you filthy demon!” Suya spat, her emerald eyes flashing through the grime on her face. The metal restraints bit deep, each struggle sending fresh pangs of pain through her. Mehmood, the Demon Lord, puffed on his cigar, as a teasing chuckle twisted his sinister features. “Agastya’s the new Astral Ruler, princess,” he drawled, smoke curling towards her. “Your precious Malachite is a dead meat now!” Suya’s breath hitched. Malachite, the most powerful of Lords, defeated by a mere Alpha? Denial choked her. “Lies!” she hissed. “He wouldn’t just surrender!” Mehmood laughed, a sound like dry leaves rustling. “Seems even the most powerful serpent can be charmed by the right song, wouldn't you agree?” Suya’s heart hammered against her ribs as her struggles came to a halt. She wasn’t a warrior but she had given them a good fight. She had always believed that determination could defeat anything—however, the awful news had challenged her beliefs. “What song?” she rasped. A sliver of fear cracked her bravado. “The one of your betrayal, of course,” Mehmood grinned, flicking ash towards her. “Your brother offered you up as a peace offering. You are ours…” His voice trailed off as he took intimidating steps towards her. “To be dealt with…or discarded!” Suya’s stomach lurched. She had spent years of scheming for Malachite, only to be discarded like a used pawn. A wave of nausea washed over her. “Don't worry,” Mehmood’s voice dripped with amusement, “Agastya awaits his prize. You're still his mate, after all.” A cold dread gripped Suya. Delivered to the enemy she'd sought to empower? A captive in a war she'd orchestrated? “I’d rather be dead!” She spat as angry tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t have the liberty to choose any longer. It happened in a fraction of a second. The guards closed in on her, taking advantage of her distractions—and bundled her up in the back seat of the car. As the caravan rumbled towards their destination, a chilling silence settled between them, broken only by the rasp of Suya's ragged breaths and the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the war-torn path. The Greatest War was finally over! Silence had settled across the Five Kingdoms. It was a silence bought with blood. The victor was bathing in it. Alpha Agastya’s path to power was paved with the bodies of his enemies. Every doubter, every challenger were vanquished—all except her. Suya, the woman who’d ignited a spark in his sheltered world, only to extinguish it with betrayal—she was the cause of the war and the resolution. She was the sole survivor on his list, his captive, his vengeance incarnate. “What would he do to me?” Suya wondered—tied, gagged, and thrown in the backseat like a sack of commodities. “Kill me? Would he be that merciful? No, he is baying for blood. Perhaps… humiliate me? Agstya isn’t the type to parade me before his pack. A broken princess displayed like a trophy. His trophy! Or would he?” She shivered as she closed her eyes. Almost instantly she felt Agastya’s monstrous shadow across her trembling form. Though he wasn’t there, she knew he was waiting for her desperately! Every ragged breath she took sent a fresh wave of pain lancing through her wrists. The metal cuffs were biting deep into her flesh and the gag was muffling her screams. She felt frightenedly helpless. Her once vibrant green eyes, now clouded with fear and despair, darted from the hulking figures surrounding her to the desolate expanse of the battlefield rushing by. A cry of agony slipped past her lips and echoed in the car when it took an abrupt turn. They had entered his military base. His territory where every breath of his was a command and every cough was the law of the land. “Be quiet or I’ll slash your fangs, Bitch!” Mahmood prodded her from the passenger seat. Suya flinched. Her heart squeezed at the weight of her fate held in the palms of her enemies. The very thought of it filled her with dread and resentment. She loathed the day he first laid eyes on her, cursed the moment he fell in love, and despised the fact that her destiny was now entwined with his. “I shouldn’t have lied to him.” She wept, closing her eyes and letting the tears freely fall on her cheeks. Those were the tears of shame, regret, and repentance. “I am sorry, Agastya.” She sobbed. Alpha Agastya, the Lycan King’s youngest son and most spoiled, had lived a charmed life for twenty-seven years. Sheltered by his seven alpha brothers, he never saw the world’s dark side. Until everything changed seven months ago when he met her. How she wished he never encountered her by the Luminous Cascade, never heard the echoes of her weeping—she wouldn’t have been compelled to be his companion. Suya still remembered everything like it had happened yesterday when his gaze had met hers. His soul had transcended the boundaries of tranquility. It had soared out of him and intertwined with hers. Agastya had never yearned for anything like he yearned for her. Infatuated with a passion he had never known, he had become obsessed with the idea of possessing her. His mischievous nature took a backseat to an unprecedented desire that consumed him. He, who had never understood suffering, burnt for her. He had to have her! And she let him. She allured him to shatter the kingdom's rules, and foster animosity even with the gods' pact so she could bring her father’s dream to reality. She had played him, cheated him, used him, and then left him to suffer. But then he took the oath to reciprocate! “I know you already know it but you are doomed. If you were honest, he would have you rule by his side,” Mahmood, the Demon Lord, chuckled darkly. “Agastya was a decent lad but you treated him like some trash. You’ve invoked this lifetime of suffering for yourself. If it were up to me, I’d let the entire demon world have you until you can’t bear it any longer.” Mahmood's leering gaze lingered on her exposed skin, a stark contrast to the metal collar choking back any threatening whimpers. Beside him, Suri, his pale, snake-like features twisted in a cruel smile, sneered—his voice, dripping with predatory relish, cut through the tense silence. “But where’s the fun in a quick end?” He jeered. “The princess loves attention, right? Perhaps Agastya will make you his plaything, a little puppet dancing to his every whim and riding his monstrous.” He leaned in, words more venomous than his forked tongue. “Picture it, Suya, in front of the whole Lycan army, begging for mercy from the beast you betrayed while he pushes into you deeper and deeper and deeper.” A cruel glint flashed in his eyes. “Maybe then, you'll grasp the true meaning of love.” Two burly Werewolf warriors sitting in the back chuckled in agreement. One of them, a scarred brute named Fang, ran a calloused hand across the hilt of his wickedly curved blades, the sound sending a fresh wave of terror through Suya. The driver, a wiry Werewolf with a crazed glint in his eyes, slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “Wish the Alpha'd let us have some fun first before chopping her! Heard her flesh is like honey – sweet and intoxicating.” Panic clawed at Suya’s throat, constricting her breath until her stomach lurched with each ragged gasp. If only she could rewind time, and choose death with her family instead of this agonizing captivity. But Agastya had denied her even that escape. “Let me go!” The words ripped from her lips, a primal plea choked by terror and gags. Hot and angry tears streamed down her cheeks, tracing salty paths through the grime and dust. She twisted and writhed against the restraints like a caged animal desperate for freedom. But her struggles only served as entertainment for her captors. Rough hands prodded and poked at her from all sides, sending shivers down her spine. Each nudge, each graze was a violation, a cruel reminder of her helplessness. Suya was trembling as tears blurred her vision until the world dissolved into a horrifying darkness. But even unconsciousness offered no refuge. Only the chilling certainty that she was entirely at Agastya’s mercy was the thought that lingered like a curse.