June 14 2026, 12:31am
Nyx’ara’s body vibrated from the sensation his voice sent running up her spine. Her eyes widened only for a moment before desperation set in.
She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes as she stuttered; "N-no," and then she gulped. "I-I didn’t p-plan a-anything. I don’t even k-know w-what you are talking about."
Once again, his claw dug into another spot on her neck, making more blood pool around her shoulder blades. The pain made her cry out but then she trembled when the howls which sounded distant began to creep closer.
However, despite this... despite the bone-chilling fear searing through her bones, she could not help but notice her wolf’s submission to this man and his brothers. But it wasn’t just that... she also noticed the way it pushed towards them like a magnet to metal, like a moth to a flame.
She had no idea why she was responding this way to them or why the moon goddess had chosen to be so cruel by playing with her fate like this...
She was however pulled out of these thoughts when, warm breath fanned her neck and cheek, sending jolts of energy rushing through her veins.
Her eyes snapped up to meet Alpha Kieran’s and the look she found in those deep dark eyes that bordered between blue and purple made her breath hitch.
He looked hungry... like he was about to devour her. His gaze held so much intensity it made her stomach tie into a tight knot.
A rush of breath escaped her lips when he clipped a clawed finger under her chin and used it to pull her face upwards... upwards... until their gazes met and held.
And then he drawled; "I will kill you..."
It sounded not as a threat but as a promise.
"I will burn your body at a pyre, and you watch as you scream out in terror. I do not mind if my body calls out to you in ways that are more treacherous than sane, but I will ruin you for murdering my sister, and I will make sure you have one of the nastiest descents to Hell."
In that moment, Nyx’ara felt the irresistible urge to defile him. She wanted to tell him of the obvious lie dangling right in front of his face. She wanted to tell him about how he and his brothers had been played for fools, and how she had never in her life seen the late princess before, not to talk of killing her.
Think about Berlin... think about your friend.
That thought was the only thing that pulled her back from the edge. Her lips could only move but no words would come out. She swallowed hard, her lower lip trembling. She should’ve run. Her mind screamed at her to do so. Or maybe she should have apologized and bolted, but for some reason, she felt rooted in place, clawing at his steel-like arm as it held her firmly against the wall.
Sparks flew in places that should feel like an abomination. But it didn’t.
Her eyes brimmed with tears when his hold began to feel tighter... more aggressive, but just as she could voice this out— even though she doesn’t have the right to— he let go, causing her to fall to the ground like a pack of cards.
The look in his eyes held nothing but absolute contempt. He looked down at her like she was filth or poop staining the bottom of his boots.
Her breath hitched when he crouched in front of her, brought his claw to the base of her neck and—
"Arghhh!" She cried out,
It broke skin. Again.
Now, she could not help the tears welling up in her eyes. She could not help the way they streamed down her face or the way her body trembled like she was being electrocuted.
With a desperation that bordered on madness, she pried her lips open, wanting to tell him the truth.
However, the words soon died in her throat when he brought his bloodied finger to his nose and took a deep whiff.
He snorted; "You are supposed to be my mate and your blood smells like your wolf is almost nonexistent? Pathetic!"
The insult stung sharper than a slap.
She clutched her chest, desperate to let out the cry buried deep in her throat but it wouldn’t slip out. It betrayed her just like the rest of her body.
With one final glare, he rose to his feet and she let out a sigh, thinking that all of this was over. However, she was soon snapped out of that fever dream when a voice from the other end of the corridor chimed in. It was just as dark. Just as powerful. And sent just as much dread and electricity down her spine.
"What do we have here?"
At the sound of the voice, Nyx’ara’s head whipped up and her breath left her lungs in one quick burst when she saw the three other brothers standing there all with grim expressions on their faces.
Draven still held his staff.
Azriel, the one with the long silver hair was still... aloof,
And Rhys, her archenemy still glared at her with the same amount of disdain that his eyes had held earlier today.
They stalked close like predators wanting to share a meal, their strides imposing just as it was daunting.
They didn’t stop until they were barely a few inches away from her, and up close, their sizes were even more staggering.
Nyx’ara usually is a petite woman, so standing next to them— after literally clawing her way up— she appeared like a doll. The top of her head barely reached their chests and the height difference was so stark, it made her stomach flip with a mix of fear and an intense, submissive thrill.
The one closest to her, Azriel, smelled like a mix of expensive patchouli, bourbon twice her age, and pure unadulterated male dominance. It was a scent that didn’t just press down on her very being. It gripped her senses with an iron-clad force and made her body throb with a sudden jolt.
His sharp blue eyes were like shards of glass, piercing through her skin and pinning her soul to the spot. He didn’t look at her with pity or rage. He looked at her like a predator who had just found something interesting to play with.
The sheer power of his presence was overwhelming. It was like a crushing weight that made her knees feel like they were made of rubber and almost brought her to her knees.
Almost.
That is until he asked; "Are you perhaps retarded?"
Anger and embarrassment flared hot on her cheeks. Her eyes burned with a sudden anger and irritation that felt foreign even to her.
For the first time since she stepped into this crazy pack, bravery surged somewhere deep inside her soul and threatened to rear its stupid head to the surface.
She defiantly met Azriel’s eyes despite herself and forced out one word. Just one word. "No."
Azriel seemed quite taken aback because he hadn’t expected that she would respond to him. But what surprised him the most was the manner in which she had spoken and the strength behind that word.
He would crush that strength.
His eyes met hers one more time and mischief swirled so tightly with rage that one could not be separated from the other.
He crossed his arms over his chest, not missing the way her eyes tracked that very action as if half expecting him to strike her.
He never laid his hands on women... unless he wanted to fuck their brains out.
With a smile, one that was more of a grimace, he drawled; "Since you are not retarded and you are not a dunce, I think you’re fit for your role. The one we have assigned to you."
The colour drained from her face that instant and her jaws slackened. She stuttered; "W-what?"
But this time, he was no longer looking at her. He seethed; "Strip."