lusting After The Alpha Queen

Stay with me tonight

Kayden ’s POV

Three days. The silver chains had been biting into my wrists for three solid days.

The burns weren’t just burns anymore. They were raw, angry trenches. If I shifted wrong, a white-hot jolt would shoot straight up to my elbows. I kept my mouth shut. Opening it meant her name might slip out—a ragged groan, a curse, something worse. Something like a plea.

Nyx hadn’t returned. Not since that night she rode me until the world dissolved. Three nights of hollow quiet. Three nights of my mind replaying it all on a loop: the shudder of her thighs, her claws anchoring into my shoulders like she was trying to fuse us together, that whispered “Mate” against my skin before she choked on the word and vanished.

I knew why she was hiding.

She was scared.

And me?I was free-falling.

Footsteps hit the stone stairs, sharp, pissed-off staccatos. The door slammed open so hard the wall shook.

There she stood. Dressed in a severe black suit, hair scraped back, eyes burning that liquid gold. She looked like a weapon. Beautiful and brutal. And she was trying so damn hard not to stare at the fresh bite on my neck.

She carried a small silver tray. A bowl of steaming water, antiseptic, bandages.

I managed to lift an eyebrow. “Here to finally finish me off, Queen? Or is this room service?”

Her jaw went tight. “Shut up.”

She set the tray down, unlocked the chains from the ceiling hook. My arms dropped like dead meat. A thousand needles stabbed through my shoulders. I swayed, but her arm hooked around my waist. They were solid and warm, catching me before I face-planted. For one heartbeat, her body was flush against mine. I could feel her heart drumming against my ribs.

Then she pushed me onto the low bench and knelt. Actually knelt.

The Alpha Queen. On her knees. In front of the man she was supposed to hate. The air left my lungs.

She dunked a cloth in the warm water, wrung it out, and started dabbing at the mess on my left wrist. Her touch was methodical. Distant. Almost gentle. The quiet between us grew so thick it hummed.

“Why?” I finally rasped.

“Because silver rot kills slow,” she said, not looking up. “And I’m not done with you.”

“Bullshit.”

Her hand froze. Those amber eyes snapped to mine, sharp enough to draw blood.

“You haven’t laid a hand on me in three days,” I said. “You’re scared. Scared if you touch me, you’ll feel it again. The bond. The pull. All of it.”

She dropped the cloth like it was acid, surging to her feet. “You have no idea what I feel.”

“I know you haven’t slept.” I tipped my chin toward the shadows bruising her eyes. “I know you scrubbed your skin raw trying to get my scent off. I know every time you close your eyes, you’re right back here. With me.”

Her claws slid out, half-extended. “One more word and I remove your tongue.”

But she didn’t move.

I stood slowly, legs shaky. The burns screamed. I ignored them. I stepped into her space until our chests almost touched, until I could feel the fever-heat coming off her.

“Go ahead,” I said, voice low. “Hit me. Chain me up. Do whatever makes you feel like you’re still in control. But we both know the truth.”

She stared up, chest heaving, her pupils blown wide. I leaned in. My lips brushed the shell of her ear.

“You’re mine, Nyx . And I’m yours. The moment you bit me, the Goddess tied the knot. You can fight it till you break, but we both know the truth."

Her hand shot up, fingers circling my throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. The points of her claws dented my skin.

“You think you’re my salvation?” she whispered, her voice trembling with rage or maybe something else. “You think this fixes anything?”

“I think this will either kill you or save you,” I said. “That's why you're so scared. And I’m willing to die figuring out which it is.”

For a heartbeat, she just stared. Something old and cracked flickered behind her eyes.

Then she kissed me.

Not like last time. This held no violence, no punishment. This was slow. Deliberate. Devastating. Her tongue swept against mine like she was tasting water after a drought. Her free hand fisted in my hair, yanking me closer, and I felt it. a full-body tremor moving through her.

When she broke away, her lips were swollen, her eyes glistening.

“I hate you,” she breathed.

“I know,” I said. “So keep hating me. Just don’t let go.”

A broken sound escaped her. It sounded like a half laugh, half sob and she shoved me back onto the bench. This time, she followed. Straddling my lap, tearing her suit jacket off, popping the buttons of her shirt in one rough pull.

We didn’t bother with being gentle.

She rode me right there on the cold stone, her nails carving trails down my back, my name a prayer and a curse on her lips. I gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks, driving up into her like I could imprint myself on her bones. When she came, she buried her face in my neck and sank her teeth into the mate mark again—deeper this time, like she was making sure it stuck.

I fell right after, her name ripping out of me.

Afterward, she stayed slumped against me, forehead on my shoulder, breathing ragged. I wrapped my arms around her carefully, like holding smoke.

Minutes bled into the dark. Maybe an hour.

Then her voice, small and rough against my skin “Stay with me tonight. Not down here. Upstairs.”