I stumbled backward out of Kael’s suite, the suffocating shadows of the long upper hallway rushing to meet me.
The cold air burned my lungs, but compared to the toxic horror I had just left behind, it felt almost like freedom.
I barely pulled a single breath into my chest before my shoulder slammed hard into a solid chest.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
Ronan.
Of course it was him.
Could my life get any worse?
The bitter thought tore through my mind, raw and bleeding.
Ronan’s golden eyes darkened instantly, an unstable, lethal glint flaring in his gaze.
His jaw clenched tight, and before I could even take a step back, his large hand shot out.
His thick fingers clamped around my jaw with crushing force, jerking my head upward so violently I heard my neck snap.
“Are you blind, stray?” he thundered, his voice booming down the silent stone corridor like a barrel of powder waiting for a match.
Without waiting for me to speak, he shoved my face to the side, wiping his hand on his tunic as if touching my skin had infected him.
Pain shot down my jawline, adding to the agony pulsing across my shredded back.
“I…
I am sorry, Alpha Ronan,” I choked out, my voice trembling violently.
“I didn’t see you…
I didn’t mean to—”
My apology meant nothing to him.
His features twisted into something far darker—a terrifying mix of fury and disgust.
In a blur of motion, his gloved fingers reached out and fisted the hair at the base of my neck.
The movement was fast, brutal, and utterly unexpected; my scream caught in my throat as he yanked me backward.
My boots skidded uselessly against the polished floorboards as he dragged me down the hallway toward his private quarters, located just two doors down from Kael’s.
Cold, paralyzing terror slithered up my spine like a nest of vipers.
“YOU FILTHY RABBIT!” Ronan growled, kicking the heavy door open and slamming it shut behind us with a crack that shook the iron hinges.
“Stealing my betrothed’s ring wasn’t enough?
Now you’re trying to assault me in my own halls?”
His voice dripped with pure poison, every word cutting deeper than any steel blade ever could.
He towered inches from my face, his dark eyes boring into mine, daring me to utter a word, to make an excuse, to draw breath.
The heavy air in the room pulsed with rage, cruelty, and something far more twisted—something I couldn’t comprehend and didn’t want to.
I kept my mouth shut.
I couldn’t speak even if my life depended on it.
My jaw felt locked.
My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth, heavy and useless.
Every muscle in my back screamed as the movement pulled against my open whip lashes, making every shuddering breath an agony.
Ronan’s nostrils flared, his breathing heavy and dangerous.
“When I speak to you, you open your mouth,” he purred, his voice dropping into a lethal, low register that was infinitely worse than his shouting.
Still, no words came out.
Not a single sound.
And that broke the final thread of his restraint.
In the blink of an eye, Ronan’s hand clamped around the back of my neck, and he brought his mouth crashing down onto mine.
My mind shattered into complete chaos.
It wasn’t a kiss—it was a brutal assault, a claim of pure ownership, a violation.
His lips pressed against mine with crushing force, his sharp teeth scraping over my skin, his tongue forcing its way past my locked teeth.
There was zero passion in the act; it was pure, unadulterated dominance meant to erase every shred of my dignity.
A violent shudder racked my body as my thoughts scattered like leaves in a hurricane.
My hands hovered uselessly at my sides, torn between absolute terror and the foolish urge to push away.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it felt like it would crack—fear, disgust, shame, and yet…
buried deep beneath the horror, a sickening spark flared to life.
My mate bond.
No.
Goddess, no…
please…
I fought against it with everything I had left.
I fought against him, against my own betraying instincts.
Gathering the last scraps of my broken strength, I shoved my palms hard against his broad chest.
The thick leather of his tunic was slick under my sweat-stained hands, but he didn’t budge a single inch.
He was a solid wall of stone.
A low, dark growl rumbled in his throat—the sound of a predator thoroughly enjoying the futile struggles of its prey.
The kiss turned feral, punishing me for daring to resist.
The air left my lungs completely as he crushed my mouth harder, his grip tightening in my hair, forcing me to swallow his presence, his scent, his claim.
I tasted salt and copper.
Blood.
My own blood.
Ronan didn’t pull back.
If anything, the metallic taste seemed to ignite something darker inside him, devouring my mouth with a ravenous hunger that fed on my pain.
Every movement tore through my mind, stripping away my identity, my pride, my sanity.
And I could only stand there—my back burning, my mind fracturing into pieces—trapped in the nightmare that some twisted part of my soul still recognized him as mine.
He kissed me like a monster with no soul.
And I knew he had no intention of stopping.
It happened purely on instinct—a desperate, wild surge of adrenaline rising up from the bottom of my soul.
With a choked gasp, I threw my entire body weight forward, shoving against his chest with every ounce of strength I had left.
My palms skidded against his tunic, but the unexpected force was enough to break the seal of his lips.
Ronan staggered back half a step, his boots gripping the rug.
I reeled back, gasping wildly for air like a person breaking the surface of deep water.
My body shook violently, my knees buckling.
I raised a trembling hand to my face, my fingers coming away stained with thick, warm blood from my torn lip.
It was already swelling, pulsing with a sharp, throbbing heat that contrasted brutally against the icy terror paralyzing my veins.
I stood there dazed, lightly pressing my thumb against the bleeding cut, trying to process the violation, when Ronan moved.
It wasn’t another kiss.
It was a strike.
His palm smashed across my face with thunderous force, the sheer momentum snapping my neck sideways.
Bright white flashes exploded across my vision, my ears ringing with a deafening whine.
A second later, the heat bloomed—sharp, blinding, and unbearable.
I froze in place.
My cheek felt like it was on fire.
Hot, uncontrollable tears spilled over my eyelashes, tracking down my face in helpless trails, dripping off my chin like a confession of my complete brokenness.
He had just kissed me with terrifying, possessive force—and less than five seconds later, he had struck me like a dog.
The irony tore through my soul.
I wasn’t a mate to him.
I wasn’t even a female wolf or a living person.
I was an object—a toy to be used, bruised, and thrown against the wall whenever he pleased.
“YOU DO NOT DECIDE WHEN THIS ENDS!” Ronan roared, taking a massive step toward me, his voice shaking the stone walls and rattling my teeth.
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”
My breath came in ragged shudders.
I forced my swollen eyes upward, looking at him through a haze of tears.
The room swam around his massive frame.
“Yes…
Alpha Ronan,” I whispered, my voice cracking down the middle, breaking into a pitiful, hollow rasp.
The tears kept coming, endless and hot, soaking into the collar of my torn clothes.
I wondered, in the dark corners of my broken mind, if this was my forever now—pain, violence, and total submission to three men who loathed my existence yet refused to let me die.
Would every breath I drew be dictated by their cruelty?
Deep inside my spirit, my wolf whimpered, curling into a small, bleeding ball, broken in ways the whip could never match.
Just then, the heavy iron latch on the door creaked loudly.
The oak door swung inward, hitting the wall with a dull thud.
Lucien glided into the room.
He stopped just past the threshold, his dark eyes taking in the entire scene in an instant—Ronan seething with unspent rage, me shivering against the wall, and blood dripping from my swollen, torn lips.
His face shifted, though I couldn’t tell if it was disgust, satisfaction, or something far worse.
My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit.