June 15 2026, 5:46pm
"I-I ah-am genuinely v-very sorry." She had said,
The words echoed between them, carrying as much weight as a feather in a storm. But do you know what carried the most weight?
The tension simmering between them like naked wire.
The words burning at the tips of their tongues but refusing to be let out.
What carried the most weight was the way Draven who was well known for his unstaggering self-control, wanted to slam her dainty back against his statue and fuck her again and again until she was nothing but a writhing mess at his feet.
His eyes moved from her face to her plump pink lips which were slightly parted, and for a second, he could already imagine those lips on his mouth... he could taste them on his tongue... feel them on his hardened nipples.
Hell, even for a split second, his mind had been crazy enough to conjure up an image of those same lips wrapped around his cock.
His cock stirred and he gulped.
It didn’t help that his eyes darkened with lust at these thoughts and it certainly didn’t help that his fingers curled around her wrists and tightened until he could almost hear the sound of her bones cracking under his grip.
His eyes— dark, stormy and wild— met hers with a defiance that his heart certainly did not feel.
He wanted to curse himself for being so drawn to this girl. Of being so obsessive about her... of catching himself dreaming about her even when she wasn’t there.
’Now she is here.’ His wolf, Fenrir, clapped back, but ignoring him, he let his darkened eyes rest on the scared woman in front of him.
"Can you repeat what you said before?" He asked, his voice sounding way colder than he would’ve liked it to.
He saw the way she flinched at his tone and couldn’t help but instantly wonder if she would flinch the same way by the time he digs his fingers into her warm soft pussy and fingers her until her dam breaks loose.
Focus.
Foooo-cuuss!
"N-no." Her small voice slithered into his very dirty thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "I-I said I-I am so-sorry, and I-I do not in-intend to-to re-repeat this i-insulting words to-to you."
Rich.
It was rich how she could pretend to be a gracious woman. Rich how she had the effrontery to lower her head and bat her long lashes at him in feigned respect when only a few minutes ago, she had referred to him and his brothers as egoistic bastards.
He frowned. "Are you defiling my orders?"
For a moment, Nyx’ara’s lips could only hang open. Her eyes widened in terror and confusion as she looked up at the man, who for some reason, terrified and intrigued her at the same time. She could not for the life of her understand why he was making such a big deal out of something as little as this so she decided to play along if that was the only way to preserve herself... for now.
"N-no!" She rushed out,
"Then repeat what I heard you say to the statues. Everything!" He growled, and once again, she flinched.
Once again, his eyes darted to her lips.
And once again, his cock stirred.
The bloody fool.
His grip around her wrist tightened as she squeezed her eyes shut and rushed out in one quick breath; "I-I said tha-that you and y-your brothers are ego-egoistic bastards!"
The words rang loudly.
It echoed around the empty hall.
It pressed against Nyx’ara’s chest, suffocating her.
But do you know what it did to Draven?
It made his cheeks burn with a blush.
It made the tips of his ears tingle and made a very weird sensation run up the length of his back.
All his life, right from the very moment he was born until now, no one— woman or man— has ever dared him the way this girl does. No one has ever been this close to him and dared to insult him... and his brothers, but she had.
Also, no one has invoked the kind of emotions that she had so easily done in him.
He smiled. Real. Genuine. For the first time. But caught himself quickly and frowned. "You said we were bastards?" He growled, causing the frightened girl to shake her head vehemently.
"Use your words!" He snapped in irritation, but the irritation soon morphed into a wild horniness when he imagined saying those same words to her in a different scenario.
He imagined having her slender legs wrapped around his waist. Imagined having her breasts pressed against his chest. He imagined taking her over and over again, and begging her to use her words...
Holy goddess, I need a psychiatrist!
Or an exorcist!
"N-no!" She said, once again pulling him out of his thoughts.
This time, he let his hand drop, setting her free with a speed that would have made anyone watching them think that he was disgusted by her, only that he was the exact opposite of the word: ’disgusted’ by her.
In fact, if there was anyone he felt that way towards them it was himself. He was disgusted by the thoughts he had about his sister’s murderer. Disgusted that he could look at her and think of sex when the only thing he should be thinking about was ways to torture her...
And he was extremely disgusted that even until now, the only thing he could think about was protecting her.
Damn this mate bond!
"But that was exactly what I heard, little murderer, and I think I have come to the conclusion that you do not know your place around here. I also think that you are too comfortable, hence your recklessness, so we ought to do something about that."
"N-no!" Nyx’ara cried again, unable to defend herself.
He glanced away from her quickly and turned to Eloise. Eloise was his and his brothers’ nanny from the moment they were born. She was like a mother figure in their lives and knew them like she knew the back of her wrinkled palm.
"Take little miss murderer here to her new room," he drawled, his voice a notch softer than it had been when he was talking to Nyx’ara.
"Make sure she is kept in the room closest to our private wing. I want to ensure that she is close by at all times and that she is somewhere I can easily keep my eyes on..." he trailed off, deliberately letting his eyes rove down the length of her body. He stopped when his eyes reached her stomach and then he continued; "I also want to make sure she bears our child soonest so that we can get this shit over with."
Those words hit Nyx’ara like a physical blow. Without thinking, her eyes darted down to her flat stomach and then lifted to catch a glimpse of his shoulder blade hidden underneath his thick white collar.
She did not need to see more than that to know how ripped this man was. But it was not just him. His brothers were ripped too, so ripped, they could easily tear her to shreds.
And she was to mate with all of them?
She was to sleep with them all to bear their child?
No way!
A fierce blush instantly made its way to her cheeks, and lowering her head to hide it, she rushed out through her suddenly swollen throat;
"I-I’d like to-to r-retire to my roo-room now!"
He nodded once as if understanding her plight and then turned to walk away, leaving her ogling at his back with both fear and excited curiosity gnawing at her bones.
But that was not before he cast one last long glance at her, raking his eyes from the top of her head to her little feet.
His eyes held rage and contempt. It held malice and pain...
And it held a promise.
A promise of days of agonising torture to come.
She was sure of it.