Episode Four.
1184 Words
Chapter Four.
EMBER’S POV
The night air pressed against my skin, cold and biting, but it wasn’t the wind that made me tremble. It was his words.
“I own you.”
They echoed inside me like a dark refrain, refusing to fade. The sound of his voice—low, deliberate—wrapped around me until I could not tell if I was afraid or entranced. Each syllable clung to me, coiling like smoke that seeped into my veins.
Why did it feel less like terror and more like something I already knew? Why did the man who claimed me so brazenly feel like someone my soul had been waiting for?
The thought frightened me more than his possession ever could.
The scariest part wasn’t his claim. It was the way a fragile part of me wondered if this was my new reality. No escape. No choices. Only him.
But no matter how much these thought presses, I knew the truth. I couldn’t stay here no matter how easy he made it sound. I shouldn’t. How would I survive staying with wolves. Being the only human girl in the entire kingdom.
“Planning to jump this time?”
His voice, smooth and cold, slipped through the shadows and into my chest. I spun toward him, my breath caught, my words stolen.
He looked different now. Softer, almost human in the dim glow, but no less dangerous. His presence was a weight and a lure all at once, pulling me closer even as my instincts screamed to run. His eyes caught mine—sharp, searching, endless. I had never seen eyes like that, eyes that seemed to know me before I could even speak.
“ I thought you left, why are you back here?” I queried,
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you and luckily I came right on time,” he said.
He moved toward me, slow and measured, as though approaching a frightened creature he didn’t want to startle. Each step carried a tension I could feel beneath my skin.
“You shouldn’t stand so close to the cliff,” he murmured, his voice gentler this time. A strand of hair fell across my cheek and he brushed it back, the touch a whisper of warmth.
“You could fall. I would hate for anything to happen to you.” He let out,
My breath shuddered.
“You shouldn’t be doing this. You are the Alpha. You know the law. And I… I need to go back. If my parents survived, they still need me.”
He tilted my chin with one hand, guiding my gaze to his. His face hovered closer, his eyes steady and unrelenting.
“Is that truly what you want?” His words were quiet but heavy, the kind of question that dug deeper than the surface. I nodded in agreement.
“If you want answers about home, I can give them to you. I’ll make sure you know everything.” He said,
“How?” My voice broke into a whisper. “You don’t even know my name or who I am.”
His gaze softened, though it still pinned me where I stood. “Then start by telling me.”
The silence stretched until it hurt. With his eyes fixed on my lips waiting eagerly waiting for a response or a chance to devour it.
Finally, I whispered, “Ember. Ember Walters.”
The corner of his mouth curved into the faintest smile. “Ember. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His voice lowered, almost reverent.
“As long as you are my wife Ember, I will protect you. I will protect everything tied to you. Just stay. What is the worst that could happen?”
A bitter laugh tried to rise, but only words came out. “Bad things always happen after someone says that.”
“Look at me.” His tone shifted, velvet over steel. I obeyed without thinking. “Do I look like I would let that happen? When I promise protection, I mean it.”
My lips trembled. “What is your name?”
He drew closer, his hands sliding to my waist, his warmth searing through the fabric of my dress.
“I am Alpha Thane Draygus. Leader of the Blue-Moon Pack. Ruling Alpha of the Werewolf Realm…” His lips brushed against mine in the lightest kiss—so fleeting and devastating it stole my breath.
“And your husband.” He concluded, with a soft smile curling on his lips.
My heartbeat faltered, racing out of rhythm.
“You look exhausted,” he said, studying my face as though memorizing every detail.
“How long have you been running?” He asked,
“Three days,” I whispered.
My body felt weak, and then he lifted me into his arms, like I weighed nothing. Causing yet another turmoil of emotions to unleash within me. I hadn’t completely processed all that had happened within the last minute for him to top up my thoughts with this gesture.
“Ember…” His voice was low, regretful. “I am sorry.”
He carried me inside, his steps deliberate, steady. At a shelf, he picked up a glass bottle that caught the flicker of the firelight. He turned to me, his eyes searching.
“I want to help ease your stress.” His tone was careful, almost cautious.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he held the bottle loosely in his hand. “Would it be too soon,” he asked, “to request that you take your clothes off?”
My breath caught, sharp and quick.
“I only want to give you a massage,” he said, his words rushing now, softer but urgent.
“You are mine, but I will never force you. I can wait until you are ready.” He pressed a kiss against the back of my hand, lingering there.
“I… I don’t need a massage,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
He turned toward me anyway, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. His fingers began to knead gently, coaxing the tension from my muscles. Slowly, against my will, my body betrayed me. I exhaled.
“You still don’t want a massage?” His tone dipped into a tease, a whisper against the silence. “This is what you are passing on.”
His hands slipped to the straps of my dress. Slowly, deliberately, he loosened them until cool air touched my bare back.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, reverence trembling in his voice.
“Lay on your stomach,” he murmured, guiding me down with the softness of command.
The first drop of oil warmed my skin. His hands followed, tender yet unrelenting, spreading fire where they touched. With each stroke, each careful press, my resolve thinned.
“Are you ready?” His lips traced a line of kisses down my back, feather-light and devastating.
I bit my lip, forcing back the sound rising in my throat. Silence was safer. But nothing inside me was safe anymore.
- Writer
