Their Broken Luna

Chapter 4:Mate

Kael's POV

My wolf started growling the moment the spotlight hit her.

The auction hall was full of smells—greed, lust, cheap cologne, and fear. I was used to all of it. As Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, I rule one of the most powerful and wealthy packs on the West Coast. Power, money, strength—I have it all. But the hollow feeling in my chest, that f*****g emptiness, never went away.

Ten years. I’ve watched the wolves around me find their mates one by one, their souls lit up by that complete bond. And I, Kael Blackwood, am still alone.

I’ve had plenty of bed partners, from all kinds of races, but I know what they’re really after—my strength, my status, my face, or… simply this body.

This body has an open secret: a ridiculously huge d**k. You can't tell when it’s soft, but when it’s hard, it’s as thick as those bitches' calves. It f***s them so hard they can't even speak—all they can do is scream in pleasure.

Any woman who has ever served me, even just once, will never forget the taste of getting pounded by my massive c**k. Some go on to marry other males but can never c****x again. They know how good it feels to have their p***y truly filled to the brim, and nobody but me can give them that satisfaction. Over time, I became the one man they could never forget.

Occasionally, a few brave ones come back, begging me to f**k them one more time. If I’m in a good mood, I might let them have another go. Too bad it never ends well. Their bodies are too fragile. They either drop dead from the intensity of the o****m or bleed all over the bed because they can’t handle my size. And I hate messes.

But outsiders don’t know the truth. They just see females walking into my room and getting carried out on stretchers. Before long, they labeled me a p*****t and a sadist. Bunch of ignorant morons!

I’m not against getting kinky in bed, but with these fragile females, I can’t do anything. I have to be constantly careful about their limits. Usually, they’re screaming in ecstasy, hitting cloud nine, while I’m just sitting there worrying about whether they’re going to survive. I can’t truly get into it, so I’ve never been able to fully enjoy s*x.

It’s like two guys showing up for a duel to the death, expecting an even fight. But before I can even draw my weapon, the opponent has already accidentally killed himself.

Seriously, Moon Goddess, if you were going to give me such a massive d**k, why didn't you give me someone who could actually take it? I have this rare treasure but no way to use it... do you have any idea how painful that is?

Fenrir—my wolf—finds s*x even less interesting than scrolling a phone. It doesn’t even count as entertainment to him. To be honest, I don’t know why I bothered at all, so a year ago I simply stopped taking any bed partners. Even though plenty of females still track me down thanks to the rumors, I can’t work up the slightest interest.

All I want is my mate. Someone who can truly handle me, someone who can ease this bone-deep emptiness.

Maybe the Moon Goddess finally heard me, because a year later, on this very night, I found her.

Elara.

“That’s her. I can smell it—she’s our mate.” Fenrir spoke before I even saw clearly whether the one pushed onto the stage was human or beast. In that instant, I forgot everything around me. Only a hunter’s instinct remained, locking my gaze on her.

“She’s beautiful,” I said without thinking.

“She is. But… those disgusting bastards. They tied her up like that.”

Yeah, they had her tied up in a way that was totally over the top, forcing her into a filthy pose to put her pink cunt on display like a piece of cheap meat. But even that couldn't hide how stunning she was. The spotlight hit her honey-colored skin, making it shimmer like a pearl.

She was lean, but her muscles were defined. Her werewolf side gave her a sense of power, while her human side made her look incredibly fragile. Her long blonde hair was a mess—she was trying to use it to hide her face, but it just added a hazy kind of beauty to her features. I could smell her fear. It was pure, hitting me like a shot of hard liquor. But underneath that... there was something cleaner, something way more tempting.

But the most important thing? My huge d**k actually started throbbing right there in the middle of everything. That was a first. I could feel it—it was desperate to bury itself inside her tight p***y.

There was no arguing with those signs. I just never expected to find my mate in a place like this—an underground auction—let alone find her as a s*x slave.

The bidding started, and a savage wave of possessiveness swept through me. My nails sharpened in an instant, digging into my palms.

Mine.

The word exploded in my mind with absolute, undeniable certainty.

She is mine. Not as property—but as something far more.

The beast inside me fully awakened and roared in a way only I could hear.

I shouted a price so high it was ridiculous, wiping out every other bidder. The hall fell dead silent at once. Good. They needed to know who she belonged to.

During the paperwork, my patience wore thin. Every second felt like torture. Fenrir paced restlessly, desperate to go back to our mate. She needed us. I could feel her helplessness, her terror.

“She needs your help,” Fenrir kept insisting.

But the damn paperwork just dragged on.

Then I heard faint sounds of struggle from backstage—and caught the disgusting stench of that old piece of s**t, Boris. That was it. I headed to the back as fast as I could.

The scene when I kicked the door open burned away what was left of my reason.

Boris, the bastard who sold her, wasn't just touching her—he was trying to kill her.

Rage—pure, murderous rage—ripped through me. I didn't even give him a chance to react. One kick sent him flying into the wall like a rag doll. I wanted to kick him until his bones snapped. I planted my shoe on his face and twisted, each grind of my heel releasing the violence I’d been holding back for too long.

He dared to lay a hand on what's mine?

He dared to touch my mate?

Kill him.

The thought took over my mind.

Blood splattered. His screams weakened.

But I couldn't do it. Not like that. I’d already looked into it—Elara’s hell these past years was all his doing. A monster like him doesn't deserve an easy death. I want him alive—but living a fate worse than death. Step one is an apology. I want him to apologize to Elara.

I kept trying to avoid looking at her. I knew that just one glance would let the lust take over, and my massive c**k would get hard enough to bust right through my pants. But before I walked out the door, I couldn't help myself. I looked.

Those idiots actually had her pinned to the wall completely naked! They were treating her like just another cheap slut!

I ordered my men to get her down and put some clothes on her. She is my mate, and I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting her ever again.

Once that was handled, I got the hell out of there. If I didn't leave right then, my pants were going to be a casualty. Besides, after the humiliation of the auction and dealing with Boris, she probably hasn't even eaten. There’s no way she has the strength to handle my huge d**k right now. I couldn't let my urges take over and end up killing her.

Not long after, my men came running, panicked, to tell me she’d fainted.

Useless. Completely useless, all of them.

I stormed straight back to the backstage room and saw her limp and naked in a guard’s arms. Possessiveness hit me so hard it hurt. I stripped off my jacket and wrapped it around her, shoved the clumsy i***t aside, and carefully scooped her up. Her body was so light it made my chest tighten.

Up close, she was even more beautiful. Her skin was unbelievably soft, glowing like satin even under the dim lighting. For a second, I just stared.

“Alpha Kael, what are your orders?” one of my men asked, snapping me out of it.

“We’re going to the safe house,” I said.

I slid one arm under her back and the other beneath her knees, carrying her bridal-style toward the parking level. I’d thought this was a safe position—I don't get turned on by a knee, and though my left hand was near her chest, her arm blocked the contact, so I never actually touched her there.

But the moment I started down the stairs, the plan went to s**t. Her left arm started slipping as we went down. Fearing she'd fall, I instantly tightened my grip with my left hand, and that’s when I brushed against her t**s, right through the coat.

It was soft, but the sudden touch startled me. My c**k instantly started throbbing, swelling huge in a split second. The garage was right there, and I didn't want—or maybe I just didn't want—to shift her position. So I stubbornly kept going. But with every step, her full ass, which had slipped down between my arms, bumped right into my d**k. Each contact made it hungrier.

I glanced down to see what the hell was going on and saw the outline of her thick triangle of hair. It wasn't exposed, but the shape beneath the coat somehow made it even more mysterious and tempting! I seriously wanted to drop her right there on the floor and shove my c**k deep inside her p***y, but I couldn't. This was a public parking garage, people were everywhere, and those two i***t subordinates were still right behind me!

I tried to act casual, struggling forward while desperately trying to remember past battles with rival packs—anything to cool my head down. But I knew the truth: my huge d**k was clearly loving the erotic friction. At the same time, my left hand had a mind of its own. It slipped inside the coat and started stroking that soft flesh.

Walking to the car—barely ten minutes—I felt like a horny teenager. I was trying to suppress the hunger and the lust, but couldn't help secretly enjoying the raw s****l tension.

Damn it. I'm an Alpha—since when do I need this much self-control?

The thought sent a flicker of frustration through me. I hadn’t even spoken a word to this woman yet, and she already had me wrapped around her finger. Is this what a mate bond does? No. I won’t allow it. I am Alpha Kael, king of the Blackwood Pack.Sleep well, woman. When you wake up, I'm going to f**k you hard, conquer you, and make sure you know who the hell your Master is.

After a painfully long half hour, we finally reached my temporary safe house in the city—a luxury penthouse. I sent my most trusted warrior, Anna, to look after her. Anna is strong, calm, and loyal. She knows what to ask—and what not to.

I paced restlessly in my study, the throbbing ache in my crotch showing no sign of fading. All I could see in my head was her naked body, her terrified eyes, and that scent on her—that mix of fear and purity that belonged only to me.

I downed several glasses of whiskey, but the fire inside me wouldn't die down.

A few hours later, Anna came to report.

“She’s awake, Alpha Kael,” Anna said in her usual steady tone. “She bathed, ate a little. She’s calmer now, but still very scared.”

I stayed silent, so Anna hesitated, then added, “She’s… a bit unusual.”

“Of course she is. She’s my mate,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean. Her recovery rate seems far beyond that of any other werewolf I’ve seen. I’ve never seen anyone like her.”

Anna has been with me since she was young. She’s seen countless races and more werewolves than most people can imagine. If she says she’s never seen anything like Elara, that means something.

“Oh—she asked about you,” Anna added, as if remembering suddenly.

Her words sent a jolt through me. I took a deep breath, forcing down the primal instinct surging in my veins.

It was time. I couldn’t keep torturing myself—and my wolf—with waiting.

I walked toward the bedroom where Elara was resting, my heart pounding with every step.

The door was slightly open.

I pushed it in.