CHAPTER 2
726 Words
I stepped closer, watching the way his breath caught when my scent wrapped around him stronger than before.
“You’re trying very hard not to fall apart,” I murmured.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
Still no answer.
Still refusing to speak.
Even now.
A soft laugh left me, amused and deeply intrigued.
Most omegas in his condition would have been begging by now—crying, pleading, desperate for relief.
But him?
He stood there trembling, drenched in sweat, barely able to remain upright…
And still looked at me like he wanted to slit my throat.
My smile widened.
Oh, I was going to enjoy this.
“You may hate me all you want,” I told him quietly, leaning just close enough for only him to hear, “but from this moment on…”
I let the words hang between us, watching the fury ignite brighter in his eyes.
“You belong to me.”
His breathing hitched.
For the first time, something in his expression cracked—not into submission, but into raw fury so intense it nearly made me laugh.
Beautiful.
Broken.
Burning.
And still refusing to kneel.
Perfect.
I reached out and tilted his chin upward with two fingers, forcing him to keep looking at me.
“Keep glaring at me like that,” I whispered, my smirk turning sharp. “It only makes me want you more.”
He jerked his face from my grasp so sharply my fingers slipped away.
“Don’t touch me.”
His voice came out rough, strained by heat and fury, but there was steel in it—real steel. Not the empty threats of frightened prey. This was anger sharpened into a blade.
My smile only deepened.
So he did speak.
And his first words to me were defiance.
Perfect.
I tilted my head, studying him with open fascination. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
His chest rose and fell unevenly, every breath visibly costing him. Sweat traced down the side of his neck, his entire body trembling harder now that he stood this close to me, exposed to my scent with nothing between us.
Yet somehow—
He still glared.
“If you think buying me means I’ll obey you,” he said through clenched teeth, “you wasted your money.”
A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it.
Not mocking.
Genuine.
The trafficker shifted nervously beside us, clearly unsure whether to be horrified or impressed by the omega’s audacity, but I barely noticed him.
All my attention was fixed on the man in front of me.
On the fire burning in his eyes.
On the way he stood there shaking apart and still refused to bend.
I stepped closer until only inches separated us.
“You misunderstand something,” I said softly.
His jaw tightened.
“I didn’t buy you because I wanted obedience.”
For the first time, confusion flickered across his face.
Just for a second.
Then it vanished beneath suspicion.
My gaze swept over him slowly, deliberately—taking in the flush of his skin, the tension in his shoulders, the hatred in his stare.
“I bought you because everyone else here looked at you and saw something to break.”
I leaned in, close enough that my voice brushed against his ear.
“I looked at you and saw something worth keeping intact.”
His breathing faltered.
The anger in his eyes remained, but something else joined it now—uncertainty, disbelief, the instinctive distrust of someone who had been given too many lies to believe a gentler one.
Good.
He shouldn’t trust me yet.
Trust given too easily was worthless.
I straightened and offered him my hand—not as an order, but an invitation.
“Come with me willingly,” I said, calm and certain. “Or make this difficult and let the whole market watch you collapse from your heat before I carry you out myself.”
His expression darkened with humiliation.
He hated that those were his choices.
Hated that I had left him none.
For a long moment, he stared at my outstretched hand like it offended him personally.
Then, with the fury of someone swallowing poison—
He took it.
And the moment his trembling fingers touched mine—
I knew he is mine.
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