CHAPTER 263: THE SCARY OFFER!

"Who is your stupid boss?" Angela asked as she got up from the floor. Her legs ached, and her body begged for a stretch. Every joint hurt from the way they had treated her here.

There was no reply to her question. She looked at the guard, wondering if he had gone back to his silent mode again.

"I asked who is your fucking boss?" she shouted, her voice echoing through the walls.

"The Patriarch," he finally answered, his tone flat as he led the way out of the room.

"That name doesn’t ring a bell," Angela said with a frown. She had never heard that name before, which meant whoever this Patriarch was, he was a new enemy. "Wait, is this the Malynster’s villa?"

"Not at all," the guard replied as they started up the stairs. They were going higher, probably to where his boss was waiting. The place was eerily quiet even though a few other guards moved around. They were dressed the same way as the one beside her—same dark uniform, same expressionless face. They moved like machines, without emotion.

They could be... who knows?

"So, do you know what your boss wants from me?" Angela asked as she walked beside him. He didn’t turn or even look at her. His pace never changed. She thought about running, but where would she go? She had no idea where she was and needed time to study the place.

"I don’t have that information, ma," he said quietly.

"That’s bad. If you had told me, I would’ve given you a gift," Angela said, forcing a smile as they entered another corridor. It looked different from the prison area...cleaner, brighter, like a different world entirely. They stopped in front of a large wooden door and waited. "You don’t believe me when I said I’d give you a gift, right?"

The guard said nothing. He stood facing the door, hands behind his back. Angela noticed the daggers and pistol hanging from his belt.

"I may look poor at the moment, but trust me, I can make you the richest man alive outside these walls," Angela said, watching him closely. She wasn’t sure if he was laughing at her in his mind or actually finding her words amusing. "Is it two hundred million dollars you want?"

"The world..." he started, but she interrupted him at once, giving him a playful wink.

"Tell me, is it the world you want? I will hand it over to you," she said with a small smile. "I have other precious gifts that money can’t buy. Like... like a ring that can make you invisible."

"You started with your lies again," Mighty-Storm sighed from inside her, her voice calm but tired.

Ignoring her wolf, Angela kept talking. "If we escaped from here together, I’ll make sure you get whatever you—"

She didn’t finish before the door opened and the guard pushed her forward. Angela clenched her jaw as she almost lost her balance. Stupid guard. If she ever made it out of this place, she would come back for him.

"Your Highness, the Luna," the guard said, bowing slightly. Angela looked around and realized she was in a throne room. The air felt heavy, powerful. There were four seats facing another four, all before a large stage that held two thrones but only one was occupied.

"I feel her presence," a deep voice said as the figure on the throne rose slowly. From the tone, she could tell it was a man. He wore a full cloak that covered his head, hiding his face completely.

Cold chills ran down Angela’s spine. That same dark aura she had felt when she was captured surrounded her again. It was thick, suffocating, like shadows closing in.

"Princess Angela... can you come forward?" the man said with a low chuckle.

She turned toward the guard, glaring. He could have taken her offer and helped her escape, but he chose not to. And if her mates dared to come here for vengeance, she would tell them not to spare him.

The guard held her arm, but she jerked it away. Chains still hung from her wrists, cold and heavy. If not for them, she would have given him a slap he’d never forget.

"I am not your princess. Do not refer to me as that," Angela said with a frown as she moved closer to the figure. "Who are you? How dare you bring me here without my will?"

"You sound just like the rumours," the figure said, sitting back on the throne. He leaned against it and said, "I am the Patriarch. King of all."

Angela burst into laughter the moment he spoke. She knew she should be afraid, but fear refused to show on her face. "I don’t fucking care who you are. I just want to leave this hell you created for yourself and this stupid one," she pointed at the guard beside her.

"You should watch what you say," the Patriarch told her calmly. He didn’t look offended, and that made her even more uneasy. He looked like the kind of man who could smile while doing something evil.

"No, I think you should watch what you do," Angela shot back. "You kidnapped me and brought me here against my will, and you call yourself a king. Is that how kings behave?"

The room went silent. The guard moved forward slightly but stopped halfway, like he wanted to warn her to stop talking.

"You are the Luna, and you have something that I want so much," the Patriarch said quietly, ignoring her anger.

"And what is that? My mates?" Angela laughed. "Are you gay? You want my mates, right? Well, I don’t blame you. Those boys are too handsome for anyone not to notice, especially Taros. I won’t—"

"Actually, I do not care about your mates, Angela," he cut her off. His tone turned serious as he stood and walked toward her. "I am dying, and I don’t have an heir. They said only you could cure me and give me one."

Her heart skipped a beat. What the hell was he talking about? Angela wished she could free her hands to clean her ears, maybe she heard wrong. Who was this man, and why did he think she could save him? Was it because of her hidden power...the one said to make someone immortal? A power she herself wasn’t sure she even had.

Maybe she did but how sure was he that it would work on him?

"I-I am confused. It’s a pity you’re dying, even as the great king, but I can’t help you," Angela said shakily, stepping back. "I am sorry. You should find someone else."

"The prophecy said you have the power," he said firmly. "The wise men told me you are the one who could help me."

"How?" Angela shouted in frustration.

"By becoming one," the Patriarch said at last. His voice was calm, but the meaning behind it made her blood run cold. "I want you to be my queen, my wife, and the mother of my children. Together, we will rule side by side and make the world ours."