Vivian awakened with a start, instantly receiving a whiff of the heavy scent of Lycan in the air around her.
The agonising burning was relentless, never dying out for a second, but to her pleasant surprise, she didn't suffer any new injuries.
She hadn't been mauled by a vicious Lycan claw as she anticipated, and there were no new marks across her back.
Neither did it appear that she'd been hauled back across the river to her pack. So where the hell was she?
Everyone knew Lycans were cursed and ruthless. They were infamous for gnawing off the fur coats of lesser wolves and crushing other inferior shifter bodies to bone until nothing was left to be salvaged.
Why had the Lycan spared her?
The last she could put to memory was the towering silhouette of a beast looming over her before fear took control and she fell unconscious.
Vivian forcibly sat up, swallowing an involuntary cry at the pain that even the smallest amount of movement elicited. Lying on a bed covered with fur in a darkened room, she couldn't deduce much of her surroundings.
She felt around her body, realising that her chest and the section from her hips going down were wrapped in bandages. Her tattered shawl smelt fresh and clean, hugging around her petite body.
"Must have been some kind woman..." Vivian assumed, grateful that she'd been taken care of so well. Even her body felt clean and free of the grime and blood from earlier.
The door to the room was closed but swung open a moment later when she stared at it, and a slightly familiar towering silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway.
Tall and strong, his shoulders were broad, and his golden amber eyes that were long slits observed her coldly. His long hair was as black as the onyx night sky, draping over his shoulders and back in unruly curls.
The man practically exuded the symbol of power, and the scent of Lycan hung thicker in the air than before.
Why would he have taken Vivian? What use was an Omega wolf to a higher Lycan other than to be his meal or used for hunting practice?
The Lycan stepped closer, and Vivian panicked, her instincts for self-preservation immediately taking control of her limbs. She recoiled with a fearful gasp when Ronan's dominating scent invaded her nostrils, throwing herself off the bed in an attempt to bolt past the Lycan to the door.
One strong arm easily seized her by the waist and in one swift movement, Ronan spun her around so that her back was to his chest. His arm never left her waist, and his free hand snaked up her throat from behind.
Ronan was much taller than Vivian; the she-wolf only reached the height of the lower region of his chest. Her body stilled, frozen in terror as she was effortlessly recaptured.
Vivian's breathing quickened, her chest heaving as she closed her eyes tightly when Ronan's large, calloused hand slowly crept up her throat.
Was he going to snap her neck or crush her windpipe?
Fighting against Ronan's grip with all her strength did nothing to dislodge the Lycan's arm. Her energy waned as she realised how defenceless she was and just how much she was at the Lycan's mercy.
Vivian's lips trembled, mumbling a silent prayer so that her death may be quick and painless.
She swallowed hard at the Lycan's proximity, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
His cold hand on her throat was a sign of dominance, one that urged her omega nature to acknowledge his Alpha status and comply with whatever came next.
Ronan didn't utter a word. He simply swept her weightless body up into his arms and carried her back over to the bed, laying her down gently into the softness of the furs.
Tears sprung unbidden to Vivian's eyes when the bed dipped from the Lycan's weight settling on it beside her.
She shut her eyes tightly when his hand reached for her again and a sob escaped her throat. She wouldn't fight.
Fighting never got Vivian anywhere with an Alpha.
It always ended the same way.
Ronan murmured his first words to her, his voice sonorous and velvety, "Foolish little wolf. Did you think running would help your case when your body is in this state?"
Vivian unexpectedly eased under the sound of Ronan's voice, her eyes fluttering open again. She flinched ever so slightly when the Lycan casually pulled her onto his lap, his fingers smoothing something wet and heavy across the burn on her upper back.
A strangely soothing smell reached her nose and the pain from the burn eased. The Lycan was already making his skilful way to the next burn, spreading the cooling mixture across her seared skin.
Ronan worked methodically down Vivian's body, covering the burn on the back of her right arm, the one on her inner left thigh, the large one on her bare torso, and the one behind her right ankle.
Vivian shivered at the foreign sensations, her small hand instinctively clutching onto the Lycan's shirt whenever his fingers danced across her burns.
His gaze was intense, subtlety drawing a sense of satisfaction from the way she clung to him now for dear life when just minutes ago she was ready to flee from him.
Ronan brushed her thick, wavy silverish hair away from her neck to apply the mixture over the burns there, and her breath hitched in her throat.
The she-wolf was sure that she was knocking at death's door just moments ago, yet now the Lycan she feared so much was tender and gentle in his actions.
However, his expression was cold and stern, a contradiction to his harmless movements.
Next, Ronan laid her down to sit on the bed again. He cupped the back of her head when he got up from the bed with a murmured 'stay
'
while he left the room.
Vivian found herself nodding obediently.
She remained seated to avoid letting the mixture on her burns soil the furs, but her head hung low, afraid this was all a fleeting dream her addled mind had produced to escape the reality of her ill fate.