chapter 4
1058 Words
Kael
"Nyra?"
The name tore from my throat like a choked, broken sob, but she didn’t give me a single f*****g second to process the realization.
Before the final syllable had even fully faded into the darkness, she slammed her forehead directly into my nose.
A sickening crack echoed through the quiet bedroom, and the copper taste of my own blood exploded in my mouth.
Fucking hell. My iron grip loosened for a fraction of a second, and that was all this lethal little ghost needed.
She ripped her wrists free, her knee driving violently upward, aimed straight for my groin.
I twisted my hips just in time, taking the bruising blow to my outer thigh instead, but she was already a whirlwind of teeth and blades.
A silver dagger flashed in the dim moonlight filtering through the high windows, slicing a clean, burning line across my collarbone.
The silver hissed against my flesh, smoking and stinging like pure acid, but my inner wolf didn't give a s**t about the pain.
The beast was pacing in frantic, chaotic circles behind my ribs, roaring a single, deafening command over and over…
‘HOLD HER. CLAIM HER. OVERPOWER HER.’
"Get the f**k off me, you royal piece of s**t!" she hissed. Her voice was a low, feral growl as she lunged again, targeting my jugular with terrifying precision.
I ducked beneath the lethal swing, my massive framework moving with supernatural speed, and threw my entire weight forward.
I slammed her hard against the heavy stone wall, pinning her hips with mine and trapping her wrists above her head once more.
I gripped them so tightly the bones must have ached, anchoring her completely.
"Stop fighting me, Nyra! Look at me, it’s you," I breathed, my chest heaving against hers, my golden eyes locked onto her pale silver ones. "You're alive. You're f*****g alive."
"I don't know who the f**k Nyra is," she spat, her face inches from mine, her white teeth bared like a rabid wolf despite having no beast inside her mind. "My name is the last thing you'll ever hear before you go to hell, Varyn. Release me, or I swear to f*****g God I will take your head."
The absolute conviction in her voice hit me like a physical blow. I stared into her eyes, searching for a flicker of recognition, a shred of the little girl from the throne room.
There was nothing but a pure lethal stranger standing near me.
If Nyra were alive she would at least have a wolf smell…this woman was entirely, devastatingly human, operating on pure, lethal training and raw human anger.
‘She’s not her,’ my mind finally reasoned, breaking under the weight of her denial. ‘Nyra died fifteen years ago. This is just an assassin sent to kill me.’
But if she wasn't Nyra, why the f**k was my soul tearing itself apart to get to her?
Her scent…fuck, her scent was utterly destroying every single ounce of my royal restraint.
It was an intoxicating, overwhelming explosion of wild winter rain, crushed pine needles, and a fierce, ancient electricity.
It wrapped around my throat, choking out my logic, my duty, and my sanity. It didn't matter who the f**k she was. Our bodies knew.
The primitive, undeniable madness of the mate bond didn't give a damn about names, or pasts, or the fact that she was trying to strangle my throat.
"Let. Me. Go," she snarled, twisting desperately beneath me.
The friction of her athletic, muscled body grinding against mine was pure, unadulterated torture.
"I can't," I choked out, my voice dropping into a deep, gravelly Alpha frequency that made the very stones of the room vibrate. "Whoever the f**k you are... you're my mate."
Her silver eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a flash of genuine shock breaking through her mask of hatred, before it hardened into pure, icy disgust.
"I am no monster’s mate. f**k you."
She spat blood directly onto my cheek.
That was the goddamned breaking point.
The self-control snapped. My inner wolf completely shattered his chains, and the raw, primitive instinct to possess her took over.
I slammed my mouth down onto hers.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a brutal, desperate battle. She bit my bottom lip, drawing more blood, but I drank it in, my hands tangling in her thick, messy black hair to hold her still against the wall.
She fought like a wild animal, cursing viciously against my lips, but the sheer, undeniable magnetism of the fated bond was a drug neither of us could fight.
Her own body betrayed her, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping her throat as her mouth softened, opening beneath mine.
The blinding anger between us mutated into a volatile, explosive hunger.
A breathless, ragged groan escaped her as I tore at her leather vest, my large palms finding the smooth, scarred skin of her waist.
Driven by fierce, possessive instincts, the world outside these four walls ceased to f*****g exist.
I lifted her straight off her feet, pinning her back against the wall as her legs wrapped tightly around my waist.
Her fingers clawed at my bare shoulders, her nails digging deep enough into my flesh to draw blood, pulling me closer, begging for the very thing she claimed to hate.
Every single touch was an intoxicating blur of blistering heat and breathless demands.
We tore at each other's clothes with a desperate urgency, fueled by a primitive, undeniable need.
It was a beautiful, chaotic storm of sweat, whispered curses, and a passionate, breathless rhythm that left us both completely undone as we crashed onto the sheets of my bed.
I pinned her hands over her head, our bodies slick with sweat and the heavy heat of the room.
She looked up at me through the tangled strands of her black hair, her silver eyes blown out, dark with a desperate, wild pleasure that mirrored the madness in my own chest.
I drove deep into her, a guttural growl ripping from my throat as she arched her back, burying her teeth into my shoulder to muffle a fierce, scream.
The raw chemistry between us flared to a point of no return for us both as the darkness of the room was consumed by our heavy and breathtaking breaking gasps of pleasure.
- Writer
