Respect
1132 Words
“You need to stop.”
Blaze’s voice cracked through my skull like a whip.
His panic, rare and sharp, sliced through the haze of her scent.
“She's going to pass out. It’s too much,” he snapped.
My little wolf lay beneath me—
panting, trembling, flushed from head to toe.
Her breath hitched in uneven bursts, her body too small, too fragile to endure the intensity my curse demanded.
I shut off the device with a hard click.
Even without it, she still twitched—aftershocks rolling through her like echoes.
The curse coiled tight in my bones, burning, demanding more.
I need her.
Her scent.
Her heat.
Her everything.
But Blaze roared at me, furious, protective.
“We can’t claim her. She’s not ready.”
“I know,” I growled through clenched teeth. “But I need—”
“No.” Blaze’s voice shook. “Not like this.”
I unhooked her restraints, the metal clinking softly—too softly for the violence storming inside me.
She sagged into my arms as I lifted her, limp and breathless.
Her wrists dangled above her head as I secured her into the chair, cuffs locking with cold, final clicks.
Ankle restraints cinched tight.
Her chest rose and fell in fast, shallow breaths.
Stunning.
Fragile.
Mine.
I leaned close, brushing my lips over the trembling skin of her stomach.
She gasped—a soft, helpless sound that punched through my control.
“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered, though my voice was far from gentle.
Her scent—gods, her scent—curling into me like smoke.
“So naive,” I murmured, tracing the curve of her hip. “You don’t understand what you do to me.”
Her warmth radiated through the air, drawing me down, down—
And I stopped.
Mid-movement.
Fingers trembling.
Her breath caught—anticipation, fear, something unnamed.
But I forced myself backward, muscles shaking with restraint.
No.
Not like the other dolls.
Not reduced to that.
I moved up her body, hands skimming over her skin—mapping, memorizing, claiming without taking.
The brush of my lips along her collarbone sent another shiver through her.
Calm tried to settle in me.
But the curse pressed harder.
More.
It hissed.
Mine. Take her.
I shut my eyes.
The madness hovered just under my skin—too close, too sharp.
“Blaze…” I whispered inside my mind.
“What?” he snarled.
“She’s going to go into heat.”
Silence.
Then a brutal truth:
“We won’t be able to resist. And it will tear her apart.”
My breath faltered.
I released her restraints again, lifting her into my arms like something breakable.
She clung instinctively, unaware her wolf—still dormant—should have been protecting her.
In the bathroom, steam rose as I turned on the shower.
I stripped, but not for pleasure—for control.
For clarity.
She felt my arousal.
I heard her swallow.
“I won’t take you,” I said, voice low and rough.
I washed her carefully, methodically, fighting the beast inside me with every touch.
I Stepping away to control myself, I let the cold air bite my skin. Then I dressed her and took her into my room.
She never resisted.
She trusted me.
That was the worst of it.
“You’re cruel,” Blaze hissed.
“You’re keeping her blind. Keeping her bound. Keeping her ignorant.”
“She will fear us.”
“She will fear you more if you lie to her.”
My jaw clenched.
The little wolf’s voice broke my thoughts.
“I-is everything ok?”
Her nervous whisper cut deeper than any blade.
“Yes,” I said, steadying myself. “Let’s eat.”
She sat on my bed, small and shaking, refusing food until I insisted.
“You must stay strong.”
Something in her eyes softened—something I didn’t deserve.
“I don’t feel as lonely,” she whispered. “Not with you.”
It hit me like a blow.
Lonely.
I had lived more than a century in darkness.
And she—this rogue, this frightened girl—was the first to speak to me like I was something other than a monster.
And I still had to place her back in that cage.
I carried her.
“Do you need the bathroom?”
A small shake of her head.
Madness clawed at me again, sharpening my breaths, my vision, my every sense.
“I-if I…”
Her voice quivered.
“What is it, little wolf?”
“If I let you… take all of me… would my contract be shorter?”
It broke something in me.
Snapped it in half.
Not desire—
but fury.
Not at her.
At myself.
At what I’d become.
I grabbed her, lifting her roughly—rage shaking through my arms.
“So that’s what you think?” I hissed.
“That giving your body—selling more of yourself—is how you earn freedom?”
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
My control shattered.
I set her on a cold table in the room—too hard, too loud—and everything inside me spiraled.
Her shirt torn away.
Her breath caught.
Restraints biting the air.
Not hurting her.
Never that.
But punishing.
Reminding.
Teaching.
My voice dropped to a deadly whisper.
“I’ve been kinder to you than any doll before you—yet you still think I’ll take you like a transaction?”
The gag cut off her whimper, and guilt ripped through me—but the curse drowned it out.
Restraints clamped.
Leather tightened.
Metal clicked.
Her body stiffened in true fear.
A fear I’d tried so hard to avoid.
“This is punishment,” I said quietly, “not claim.”
I hovered close—breathing hard, control shredded to threads—
and then stopped.
Stopped everything.
My voice, when it came, was cold and haunted.
“You’re not ready for what I am.”
Another restraint closed.
Another click.
Final.
Irrevocable.
“You will not buy your freedom with your body,” I said, breath shaking with effort.
“And I will never claim you while you fear me.”
I stepped back.
Far enough to keep her safe.
“Stay bound,” I said. “Stay still. I need distance… before I become something I cannot take back.”
Her breathing hitched.
“Despite what you think,” I whispered, voice breaking with the truth,
“I am trying to save you.”
The darkness swallowed me as I walked out.
Leaving her restrained.
Helpless.
Protected.
Safe from me.
And utterly unaware of how close she had come to destroying every shred of control I possessed.
- Writer
