The Bloodmoon Claim

Chapter Six

Cole’s POV:

The moment I see her on that stage, my blood boils. The chains, the bruises, the way fear radiates off her, it should make her unappealing to anyone with a shred of sense. She is mine. Only mine.

And then Madam Sherry has to ruin everything with one word: virgin. Just like that, she becomes desirable to every man in that room. My plan, my careful work to make her undesirable, is wiped away with a single breath. I should be the only one to touch her. I should be the only one deciding her fate.

That f*****g bastard, Ulric. His money, once again, won a war between our packs. This is MY fated mated, and he claims her so easily with cash.

I scented her when she ran, coffee, pine, and lavender. My stomach growled, and my wolf, Gemini, growled. I wanted to mark her. But Sherry would be furious if I claimed her livestock.

I drag her off the stage, hard, ignoring her cries. She stumbles, the chains between her legs rattling. I enjoy the resistance; the fear is delicious, the panic in her eyes intoxicating. My fingers itch to make her bend further, to make her scream for me alone.

I shove her into a separate room. The dim light barely illuminates the space, but it’s enough. Enough to watch her, naked, trembling, exposed. Ulric won’t find her here.

“Here,” I growl, low and sharp. “This is where you stay.”

Her eyes meet mine, wide and terrified. Good. Let her be afraid. That fear belongs to me. Every shiver, every gasp, every flush of pain is mine to take.

I grab her wrists and lift them toward the chain hanging from the ceiling. The metal clangs as her arms rise above her head, I secure her wrists to the chain. Her chest heaves, every muscle tense, and I can practically taste her fear in the air. She trembles, utterly exposed. Beautiful. Perfect.

I step back, admiring her. My head is already filling with ways to break her further while keeping her entirely under my control. Every bruise, every mark I’ve already made, every inch of humiliation is deliberate. I made sure she wouldn’t sell at the auction. And yet Sherry flaunted her, declared her untouched, and now every man has seen her as a prize.

I move closer, slow, deliberate, savoring the way her body responds to my presence. Her fear, confusion, helplessness, it’s delicious. She belongs to me, and I will make sure the world knows it. Every plan I’ve made, every cruel thought, every touch intended to break and claim her is justified by desire and possession.

The door slams open.

Ulric.

I barely have time to react. Ulric is there in a heartbeat, solid, overwhelming. Before I can even step forward, his foot connects with my stomach like a hammer. Pain explodes through me, knocking the air from my lungs. I fly across the room, skidding along the floor, and all I can see is her still suspended and exposed.

Anger and frustration roar through me. Mine. She is always mine. I have damaged her, but now he stands between us, between me and my possession.

I struggle to push myself up, every muscle burning, vision swimming. I can see my mate, trembling, fragile, hanging there. The knowledge that someone else’s presence is a threat to what is rightfully mine—my control, my torment, my pleasure- makes my teeth grind together in fury.

He might have power, he might have strength, and money, but she is mine. The thought that I will get her, that I will break her further and claim her fully, consumes me entirely. Ulric is just a temporary obstacle. And obstacles are meant to be crushed.

Ulric’s POV:



The second I saw her, my blood froze.

She was hanging there, arms raised, body exposed, chains rattling faintly with every tremor. My chest tightened. My wolf, Fenrir, snarled deep in my mind, claws scraping at my patience, desperate to tear through the air and claim her.

And there he was. Cole. Standing too close, smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. The bastard’s hands traced over her form, deliberate, possessive, cruel. My gut roiled with bile and rage. I could sense his arrogance, his control, the way he enjoyed her fear, and it made my stomach ache and my claws retract. My teeth ached to sink into him, to end his smug, twisted amusement.

Everything about him screamed wrong. He wasn’t just taking what he wanted; he was reveling in it, savoring the terror in her eyes like it was a meal meant for him alone. My fists clenched until my knuckles burned. Fenrir trembled beneath my skin, furious, snarling, desperate. I could feel her fear through the walls of her mind. She was screaming without making a sound, and it filled me with white-hot fury.

I moved faster than I realized I could. The air around me felt thick, heavy with Cole’s arrogance and her terror. My wolf surged, a predator sensing the scent of its mate. Mine. Every nerve in my body knew it, and I would not let him touch her again.

Cole’s hand rested briefly on her shoulder, a cruel reminder of his control, and my patience snapped. I lunged. My foot shot forward before he could react, driving hard into his stomach. He went flying back, the air whooshing from his lungs, and for a brief moment, all I could see was him sprawled on the floor, cursing and struggling.

My eyes locked on her. She flinched as the chain rattled, but I stepped closer, slow and deliberate, trying to convey without words that she was no longer alone. That I would protect her. That Cole’s hands would never touch her again. Fenrir roared inside me, and I let him.

Every instinct screamed at me: claim her. Protect her. Make him pay. I could feel the traces of his cruelty on her, the bruises and scars of the beatings she undoubtedly endured, lay thick on her skin. My stomach twisted. My chest ached with the need to tear him apart and erase the memory of what he had done.

But first, I had to reach her. She was mine, and I wouldn’t wait another second to make it clear. Fenrir surged forward with me, ready to strike, and I gritted my teeth. That bastard Cole had no idea what he’d just done.

I would not forgive him. And he would not get her.

“Stay the f**k away from her,” I growled, my voice low and lethal. “Never look at her again.”

Cole’s smirk faltered for the first time. I could see the shock appear across his face.

I stepped forward, closing the distance between her and us in a heartbeat. My hands gripped the chains connecting her ankles. Metal groaned and protested, but my strength was absolute. With a sharp, brutal tug, the cuffs snapped, metal twisting and breaking under my fingers.

Her ropes bit into her skin from the struggle, and I ripped them apart, tearing the restraints that had bound her wrists. She stumbled slightly as freedom came back to her, and I caught her instinctively.

I didn’t waste another second on Cole.

The ball gag slid from her mouth, and I pressed my thumb into her jaw gently, letting her taste air, letting her inhale for the first time in hours. Her lips trembled, her chest rising and falling as she tried to draw back control over her body.

“Shh,” I murmured, my voice a low rumble. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Before she could process, I scooped her into my arms. Her body was tense, shivering, bruised, and battered, but alive. I held her tight, letting the heat from my own body shield her from the cold, from the fear, from everything Cole had inflicted.

Cole was still there, scrambling to his feet, his rage and humiliation written across his face. Fenrir growled deep in my chest. I could feel my own power radiating outward, and the wolf within me promised a reckoning if Cole even dared to step closer.

“Stay the f**k away from her,” I repeated, louder this time. “You touch her, you look at her, and I swear to the Moon Goddess, you will regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Cole froze. He understood, finally, that he was nothing there. Nothing compared to me, nothing compared to what she meant to me.

I didn’t give him another second.

She is mine. And no one would ever touch her again.