I Married The Villain Alpha

Vincent's POV

"What is that bastard up to?" I muttered under my breath, my fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest of my chair.

The flickering light of the fireplace illuminated the edges of my office, casting long, wavering shadows. The growing rage inside me mirrored the flames, burning hotter with every passing second.

"He should be back in Avador—or on his way there, at the very least," I growled, my voice thick with frustration.

Atlas had no reason to still be in the capital, let alone strutting into the Moon Palace as though he owned it. Yet there he was, blatantly disregarding boundaries, testing limits he should have known better than to cross.

"He's getting bolder," I hissed, my jaw tightening as I leaned forward. The anger simmering beneath my calm exterior threatened to boil over.

"I need to remind him where he belongs," I muttered, the weight of my words settling heavily in the room.

Atlas needed to learn that his insolence had consequences, and I was more than willing to deliver the lesson myself.

"'Rogue at the border,'" I muttered bitterly, repeating Atlas's feeble excuse.

The words tasted wrong on my tongue, their hollow weight betraying the truth. Whatever was happening at the border, it didn't justify his presence here. The Atlas I knew wouldn't bother reporting such trivial matters, especially not directly to me. If it were truly rogues, he'd have dealt with them swiftly and efficiently, no questions asked.

No, there was something else—something he wasn't saying.

My thoughts darkened as the possibility took shape in my mind. "Or could it be…"

Her image flickered to life in my thoughts—soft, delicate, untouchable. Iris.

"No," I snapped, shaking the thought from my mind. "It can't be."

Atlas meeting with Iris? It was unthinkable. Impossible. He'd never dare—he knew the consequences. Yet the idea clawed at the edges of my mind, refusing to be silenced.

"But that sneaky bastard…" My fists clenched as the thought gnawed at me, threatening to bloom into rage. The possibility of it—it made my blood boil.

"I would have his head," I growled under my breath, the heat of my anger searing through my composure. "If that ever happened…"

"Richard!" My voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"Yes, your Majesty!" Richard scrambled to attention, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he fumbled to adjust them.

"Send word to Simon." My tone was ice, barely concealing the fury beneath. "I want every detail he has on Atlas. Every move, every whisper. I need answers."

Without hesitation, Richard bowed and darted from the room, leaving me alone with my simmering wrath.

The silence returned, heavy and oppressive, as I leaned back in my chair, my jaw clenched tight.

Atlas's days of defiance were numbered. If he thought he could outmaneuver me, he was sorely mistaken.

And Iris… her illness weighed heavily on my thoughts, though I couldn't decide what to make of it. I needed to find the cause—if it threatened her, it threatened me. More importantly, I needed to know if she was strong enough to bear me heirs—strong pups who could one day rule in my stead.

But the sight of her… her fragile figure, her pale complexion—it stirred something urgent within me. Something I couldn't control. Something I didn't want to control.

She wasn't the same fiery woman who stood up to me the past few weeks with defiance blazing in her eyes. Now, she seemed… docile. Weak. Vulnerable. And that vulnerability riled me up in a way I couldn't explain—or didn't care to.

If it weren't for him…

The thought of Atlas slithered into my mind, fueling my rage. If it weren't for his meddling, I wouldn't have stopped myself. I wouldn't have held back the urge to remind her who she belonged to, her Alpha.

I felt the blood in my veins rush south, my wolf stirring in response to my desire. The hunger to dominate her, to break her resistance and see her bend only to me, clawed at my restraint.

Marking her once wasn't enough—it would never be enough. I needed more. To claim her completely. To make her submit. To strip away any doubt that she belonged to me and only me.

She had to return to the woman she once was—devoted, obsessed with me as her mate. And I would ensure it, one way or another.

The thought of her lingered, consuming me, until a sharp knock at the door pulled me back to reality.

"May I come in, Your Majesty?" Simon's voice was calm but deliberate.

"Yes, enter."

The door creaked open, and Simon stepped in, his every movement deliberate, calculated. He stopped a respectful distance from my desk, bowing his head slightly.

"Richard sent word that you wanted to see me," he said, his tone measured.

"Yes," I replied, leaning forward, my gaze piercing into him. "It's about Atlas. What have you uncovered so far?"

Simon hesitated, his hands fidgeting subtly as if weighing how much to say. His lips parted, his tone cautious.

"Well, Your Majesty…" Simon began, his voice hesitant. "I sent my men to track him, but they've been unsuccessful so far. He's good at covering his tracks… it's difficult to predict his movements… Sir," he finished, his words dripping with a sense of failure that only fueled my growing rage.

"What?!" I roared, my fists slamming onto the desk with a resounding crack of frustration. Simon flinched, his body trembling as he bowed lower in fear.

"What about the secret army you mentioned before?" I pressed, forcing my voice steady despite the fire burning inside me.

"Y-your Majesty… my men are still gathering information on it…" he stammered, his calm demeanor crumbling beneath my stare. "I'll report back to you as soon as we have more."

I paused, letting the weight of his words settle in, before sinking back into my chair, the tension still hanging thick in the air. "Atlas has become too bold recently… There's definitely something more going on with him," I muttered, frustration lacing my voice.

"You could always remind him who the true King is…" Simon ventured, a sly glint flickering in his eyes as they landed on the metal ring adorning my finger. The enchanted leash—my father's final gift, a means to control Atlas, like the rabid dog he was by using his own mind as a caged. Using the ring, however, was no simple matter.

The curse in his blood made him dangerous, but it was also the only thing that kept him in check. Removing him completely was a dangerous risk I wasn't ready to take—yet.

"You tell your men…" I began, my voice cold and dangerous, brushing aside his suggestion. "If they don't find useful information we can use against him, I'll have their heads hung up on my walls. Am I clear?"

"Clear as day, Your Majesty," Simon replied, his voice tense with fear.

"Good, now leave!" I snapped, waving him out of my presence.

As Simon hurried out, Richard entered the room with his usual calm demeanor.

"Your Majesty, the tailors have arrived for the fitting of your dress for the ball," he announced, his voice formal.

"The ball…" I thought, the weight of it settling in. I had almost forgotten about it in the chaos of everything else. The ball would be where I officially announced my wedding to Iris in two weeks. The thought brought a surge of excitement, pushing the earlier rage aside.

I gripped the arm of my chair, trying to calm the fire burning inside me. My wolf roared with intensity, craving her presence, wanting to own her completely. But I forced myself to take control. Soon. Very soon, she and I would be married.

"Iris, you and I shall soon be one," I whispered to myself, a dark promise in the air.