Chapter 2
2035 Words
The night had become a living thing. It breathed coldly through the cracks in the basement windows, crept under Della's thin blanket, and clung to her body like a second skin. But the cold was nothing compared to the fire raging in her chest. Since that moment in the hall, since Bryan's fingers on her chin, since that impossible, forbidden bond that had wound itself around her heart like a chain of glowing moonlight, she could no longer breathe as she had before.
She lay on her narrow cot in the servants' quarters, her eyes wide open, staring into the darkness. Every heartbeat felt like a drumbeat of warning. Go away. Flee. Hide. But where to? The pack stretched across hundreds of square kilometers of icy forests and rugged mountains. And even if she fled, this bond would find her. It was already pulling at her, a silent, relentless call, dragging her toward the guesthouse where Prince Bryan was staying.
She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes until colorful spots danced. Think of Georgia, she commanded herself. Just think of Georgia.
Her half-sister slept two floors above in a room of silk and candlelight. She was probably dreaming of the upcoming ceremony, of the moonlight crown they would place upon her head, of the love of a strong alpha. Georgia deserved it all. She had never known anything but kindness and anticipation. And now this monster planned to use her like a broodmare and then discard her.
Della rolled onto her side, drawing her knees to her chest. Her fingers dug into the rough wool blanket. She had to do something. Anything. But what? She was powerless. No mark. No rank. No voice. Just a servant, easily forgotten.
And yet Bryan had seen her.
He hadn't just seen her. He had smelled her. Felt her. He had felt that bond, just like she had.
The memory of his voice sent a shiver through her body. Rough. Deep. Dangerous. "I smell you. Fear. And desire."
She bit her lip until she tasted blood.
Suddenly a noise. Quiet. Deliberately quiet. Footsteps on the stone stairs leading down to the cellar.
Della froze.
Nobody came here at night. Not even the guards. The cellar was cold, damp, and full of rats. A place for forgotten things.
The footsteps grew louder. Slow. Deliberate.
Then silence.
Della held her breath.
A shadow fell through the narrow gap under the door. Large. Wide. Unmistakable.
The handle moved.
The door opened silently.
Prince Bryan entered.
He was no longer wearing a coat. Only the black shirt, the sleeves rolled up so that his sinewy forearms shimmered in the dim moonlight. His boots left damp footprints on the stone floor. He closed the door behind him without looking.
Della sat up abruptly. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he could hear it.
"What do you want here?" Her voice sounded thin and trembling.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let his gaze wander around the tiny room. The narrow bed. The rickety table. The bucket in the corner. The rusty hook on the ceiling, where perhaps a prisoner had once hung.
“Do you live here?” he finally asked. No pity in his voice. Only cool curiosity.
"Where else?"
He stepped closer. One step. Another. The room shrank.
Della pulled the blanket up like a shield. Ridiculous. As if fabric could stop him.
Bryan stopped right in front of the bed. So close she could feel the warmth of his body. So close his scent enveloped her. Pine. Storm. And beneath it all, that dark, animalistic fragrance that made her wolf howl.
“You are afraid,” he observed.
"Shouldn't I?"
His lips twitched. Not a smile. Something more dangerous.
“Most people are afraid of me,” he said quietly. “But with you it’s different. Your fear has… taste.”
Della swallowed hard. "Go. Please."
"No."
A single word. Final.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. The wood creaked under his weight. Della recoiled until her back hit the cold stone wall.
"Why are you trembling like that?" he asked. His voice was quieter now. Almost gentle. But the gentleness was a blade just waiting to strike.
"Because you will kill me," she whispered.
"Perhaps." He inclined his head. "Perhaps I want to know why you're staring at me like that, as if you hate me and devour me at the same time."
"I don't hate you," she lied.
"Liar." He held out his hand. Slowly. Give her time to escape. But Della couldn't move.
His fingers brushed across her cheek. Cool. Rough. Electrifying.
The bond between them practically exploded. Heat surged through her veins. Her breath caught in her throat. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her throat.
Bryan took a sharp breath.
"There it is again," he murmured. "That smell. Your wolf. He's calling for mine."
"No," she whispered. "That can't be. I don't have a mark. I am nothing."
"And yet you're here." His hand slid to the back of her neck. Fingers dug into her hair. Not painfully. But relentlessly. "And yet I feel you with every damn breath."
Della closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks.
"Georgia," she whispered. "You want to destroy Georgia."
His fingers froze.
“Georgia is a means to an end,” he said coldly. “Nothing more.”
"She is a human being. She has feelings. She trusts you."
"Trust is a weakness."
Della's eyes widened. Anger flared within her, hotter than fear.
"Then you are a monster."
A dark laugh vibrated in his chest.
"Finally, she's speaking the truth."
He pulled her closer. So close that their noses almost touched.
"Say it again," he commanded roughly.
"You are a monster."
His eyes almost turned black with excitement.
"And yet you want me."
"No."
"Liar."
He kissed her.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was an attack. A claim. His lips pressed hard against hers, demanding, hungry. Della gasped. Her hands flew up, trying to push him away. But instead, her fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him closer.
The band sang. Loudly. Wildly. Unstoppably.
Bryan growled deep in his throat. A sound that echoed through her entire body. His tongue plunged into her mouth, conquering, tasting, claiming. Della tasted storm and blood and desire. She returned the kiss, even though everything inside her screamed that it was wrong. Dangerous. Deadly.
His hands slid under her blanket. Found bare skin. Rough fingertips brushed over her ribs, her stomach, higher. Della arched towards him, a stifled sob in her throat.
Suddenly he stepped back. Just a few centimeters. Enough to look at her.
His eyes were glowing.
"Tell me to stop," he growled. "Say it. Now."
Della was trembling all over.
"I..."
Her voice broke.
"I can't."
An animalistic growl escaped him. The next moment he was on top of her. The bed groaned in protest. His hands ripped the covers off. Cool air met heated skin. Della gasped.
Bryan yanked up her threadbare nightgown. Fabric tore. His lips found her neck. Teeth grazed the spot where the birthmark would normally be. Della cried out softly. Not in pain. In pure, overwhelming desire.
"You belong to me," he whispered against her skin. "The tape doesn't lie."
“No,” she whimpered. “Georgia…”
"Stop thinking about her." His hand slid between her thighs. Possessive. Demanding. "Just think about me."
Della bent towards him. Tears streamed down her temples and into her hair. She hated herself. She hated him. And yet she couldn't stop.
His fingers found her most intimate place. They caressed. They pressed. Della let out a soft cry. Her body trembled. The band pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
Bryan raised his head. He looked into her eyes.
"Say my name," he commanded.
“Bryan…”
He rewarded her with a deep, hard thrust of his fingers. Della arched her back. Stars exploded behind her eyelids.
"Once again."
"Bryan!"
He took her with his fingers, quickly, mercilessly, until she trembled and whimpered and begged. Then he withdrew. Opened his pants. Della stared. Large. Hard. Menacing.
Fear and desire blended into something unbearable.
"Last chance," he growled. "Say no."
Della closed her eyes.
"Please," she whispered.
"Please what?"
"Take me."
A final, animalistic growl.
Then he penetrated her.
Hard. Deep. Relentless.
Della screamed. Pain and pleasure merged. The tape exploded. White-hot heat flooded her. Bryan moved inside her, powerful, dominant. Every thrust a claim. Every kiss a promise of doom.
Della clung to him. Nails dug into his back. Tears streamed down her face. She felt him everywhere. Inside her. Around her. In her soul.
As the c****x overwhelmed her, she screamed his name. Loudly. Desperately. Bryan followed seconds later. A deep, primal roar escaped him. He came inside her. Marked her from within.
Then silence.
Only heavy breathing. Sweating. Trembling.
Bryan half-rolled off her, but remained inside her. His forehead fell against hers. He breathed roughly.
"You are mine," he whispered.
Della wept softly.
"I must not."
"Too late."
He kissed away her tears. Gently. Almost tenderly. A contrast to the brutality of before.
"What have you done?" she whispered.
"What fate has demanded of us."
"Georgia..."
“She will live,” he said harshly. “But she will never become Luna. Not again.”
Della froze.
"What do you all mean?"
Bryan raised his head. His eyes were clear now. Cold. Calculating.
“I have decided,” he said. “The alliance with your father is over. Georgia is not the right one. You are.”
Della laughed bitterly. Tears streamed down her face.
"Me? The unmarked one? The bastard daughter? The pack will tear me to pieces."
"Then they will die because of me."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Della stared at him. Saw the madness in his eyes. The possessiveness. The absolute determination.
"You're crazy," she whispered.
"Maybe." He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "But I'm not letting you go again."
Suddenly a noise. Footsteps. Fast. Many.
Voices. Guards.
Bryan froze.
"Damned."
He withdrew from her. He stood protectively in front of the bed. He pulled up his trousers.
The door flew open.
Alpha Victor stood within the frame. Behind him were a dozen armed guards. Torches cast a flickering light.
His gaze fell on Della. Naked. Disheveled. Tears on her cheeks. On Bryan. Shirt open. Hair disheveled. The smell of s*x and blood hung heavy in the air.
Victor's face contorted with anger.
"You dare," he hissed. "In my house. With my... servant."
Bryan smiled coldly.
"Your servant?" He stepped forward, standing protectively in front of Della. "She belongs to me now."
Victor laughed ugly.
"She bears no marks. She is nothing."
Bryan inclined his head.
"Then explain to me why my wolf recognized her as his mate."
Silence.
Deadly silence.
Victor turned pale.
"Impossible."
Bryan pulled Della up behind him and wrapped the blanket around her. She was shaking so badly she could barely stand.
"Tomorrow at sunrise," Bryan said calmly. "On the frozen lake. You and me. A duel. Winner gets everything. The girl. The pack. The future."
Victor stared at him. Then Della. Hatred burned in his eyes.
"Agreed," he growled. "And if I win, I'll cut out your heart. And her... I'll slit her throat."
Bryan just smiled.
"Then we'll see each other at daybreak."
Victor turned around. The guards followed him.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
Bryan turned to Della. He saw the panic in her eyes.
"Do not be afraid," he said softly.
"How can I not?" Her voice broke. "You have just started a war. Because of me."
He cupped her face in both hands.
"Not because of you," he said gruffly. "Because of us."
He kissed her. Gently this time. Almost desperately.
"Go to sleep now," he whispered. "Everything will be decided tomorrow."
Della sank onto the bed. Tears flowed uncontrollably.
Bryan lay down next to her. Pulled her to his chest. Protectively. Possessively.
The night crept on.
The moon moved across the sky.
And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
A lament.
A promise.
A countdown to bloodshed.
- Writer
