CHAPTER 6
1039 Words
I let out a low, ugly laugh, the sound echoing off the massive hall. She wanted to prove herself. This week, a trembling little thing? It was ridiculous.
Ronan's head tilted, his piercing, hard blue eyes squinting. He looked at me like I was something beneath him, something he could discard.
The impact of his rejection brought my chest close to imploding, brought my breath close to being cut off.
But I wasn't done.
"I," I was shaking so hard, but I managed the words. "Nayla, deny your rejection."
There fell a heavy stillness into the room. My thudding heart.
Ronan did not speak. Only stared, with that unreadable tempest welling up in his iced-blue eyes. And then, after a heavy pause
He sneered.
A slow dark smile of lips that sent icicled shivers coursing through my blood.
"You imagine you have a choice?" His voice was soft, deadly.
A tremor crept down my back. Something was extremely, extremely off.
Then, before I could do anything, Ronan moved.
Fast. Too fast.
And suddenly—his hands were wrapped tight around my throat.
Suffocating me.
Enclosing me.
"You belong to me, Nayla," he panted, his breath a caress against my skin. "And I'm the one who decides when I let you go."
Darkness was seeping in around the edges of my vision.
I was wrong.
Horribly wrong.
The warriors on the walls shifted, all of them casting suspicious looks Nayla's way. Elara and Milla were frozen in place, both of their faces covered by maskings of shock. Even Sheila, standing directly behind me, snorted, wrapping her arms across her chest.
But Nayla didn't waver.
She stood tall, even when her hands trembled at her sides. Her face, red and tear-stained, was a contradiction—a woman on the brink of shattering, but not breaking.
"You think you can take it?" I sneered, taking a slow breath, my hand tightening against her throat.
She nodded, her gaze on the stone floor, not looking up.
There was something primal that rose in me—a mixture of anger and something else I couldn't define. Why did she remain standing? I had attempted everything I knew to break her. I had mocked her, taunted her with rejection, and informed her she would never be my Luna.
And still, she stood, defying me.
I clenched my fists. Fine. If she had to test her will, I would test her limits.
My voice dropped into a killing whisper. "Look at me, Nayla."
She hesitated. A momentary look of fear crossed her face.
"Look. At. Me."
Her breath caught as she lifted her eyes, our gazes meeting in a hard, icy stare.
The instant her eyes met mine, I unleashed my Alpha power.
There was a crushing weight that filled the atmosphere. The pressure was becoming leaden, staggering, crushing over all of them. The warriors instinctively lowered their heads, Sheila stumbled, and even Milla and Elara shrank back from its force.
But Nayla
She gasped, her knees trembling as the pressure crushed her. Her shoulders convulsed, sweat forming on her temples. But she did not collapse.
She clamped her teeth together, her fists tightening as she prepared herself.
I took another step closer, my voice cold. "Kneel."
Her gasps were great heaves, her body tottering, but she did not move.
"Kneel, Nayla," I ordered again, my superiority slamming against her like a relentless storm.
Her knees faltered—briefly. But then—she fought back.
She breathed shudderingly and stood up straight, defying me in front of everyone.
I narrowed my eyes. Not possible. A wolf without a dominant form, a woman untrained in combat, was defying the will of an Alpha?
Something inside of me furled up. A mix of anger and. respect? No. Ridiculous.
Sheila's shrill voice cut through the heavy silence. "You stupid girl!"
I barely had time to register what was happening before Sheila's hand came snapping across Nayla's cheek.
The c***k was sharp, unforgiving. Nayla's head whipped to the side, her cheek blushing where Sheila had slapped her. A soft, pained sob passed her lips.
"Sheila"
I growled, a deep rumble in my chest.
"She must wake up!" Sheila snarled, turning back to me with burning green eyes. "She can't be your Luna! She's weak, useless! She's not worthy of you, Ronan!"
I glared at Sheila, my teeth clenched. Her fury was not unfounded. She was right. Nayla wasn't fit for this world.
And yet
Nayla slowly turned her face back to Sheila. My breath faltered at the burning defiance in her eyes.
"Sheila," Nayla said, her voice firm though the shake remained. "I will never reject Ronan."
Sheila's face twisted in rage. "You
"I won't." Nayla moved forward, wrestling with her hurt, her shame, and her exhaustion. She turned to face me again, her chest rising and falling. "I will never accept your rejection, and I will prove to you that I am strong enough to stand by your side."
A shivery silence fell.
The room seemed to be waiting with bated breath.
I stepped closer, towering over her, watching as her throat bobbed with an anxious swallow. Her body still trembled, but she didn’t move away.
My lips curved into a slow, dark smirk. “Then you’re a fool, Nayla.”
She didn’t flinch.
I leaned in slightly, my voice a whisper against her ear. “And fools don’t survive in my world.”
A flicker of uncertainty passed over her eyes, but she remained firm.
I took a step back, my heart pounding in my ears as I stood up to Sheila, whose face was still contorted in anger.
"Enough," I growled.
Sheila bristled, her jaw clenched, fists curled, but she didn't struggle against me.
I exhaled a deep breath, turning to Nayla. She still stood, her chest still heaving, her fiery cheek still aflame, her unbroken will still unresolved.
"Very good," I growled. "You wish to prove yourself?" I nodded. "Then let us see if you can survive."
A slow, sadistic smile crept onto my lips.
For now—I was going to make her life a living hell.
And if she still would not c***k?
I would uncover just what kind of woman Nayla really was.
- Writer
