The heiress without a wolf

INDRA BECKOVA Every sketch I draw tells a story. Sometimes it comes as an inspiration in my head. Sometimes a memory I can’t quite grasp. But today, I sat to draw my mate…and my sister. Darion’s voice still echoed in my head from earlier. “Stay, and Draw,” They were spoken in that low Alpha tone that left no room for refusal. My instincts had snarled uselessly under my skin while I sat in the corner of his room with a sketchbook open on my lap and charcoal already staining my fingers. Evelyn was on her knees between his spread thighs. I had been forced to capture every second of it. The soft, wet sound of her mouth taking him in. The way her dark hair spilled over his legs. The way Darion’s head tipped back against the chair, jaw tight, one hand buried in her hair like he needed something to hold onto. His other hand rested on the armrest, fingers flexing every time she sank deeper. I drew the stretch of her lips around him. Layered with the shine of spit on his c**k. The way her throat worked when she took him as far as she could. My hand moved almost mechanically, lines appearing on the page while my chest burned. The bond between Darion and me pulsed with every wet sound she made. My thighs pressed together against the chair. Shame and heat twisted low in my stomach until I couldn’t tell which one was stronger. Evelyn moaned around him. The vibration made Darion’s hips twitch. A low, rough sound left his throat, half growl, half pleasure. The same sound he used to give me. I forced myself to keep drawing. But then, the pencil broke. The c***k made them stop, and silence settled in the room. “Must you be clumsy?” Evelyn hissed. “I’m sorry. I’ll get another pencil,” I lowered my head in pain, taking a stand of shame to leave. “Leave it!” Darion ordered. He walked over to look at what I’d done. Evelyn couldn’t care less. She simply walked into the bathroom. “It’s not done yet. But I could…” “It’s perfect,” he muttered under his breath, like he was shocked to see a drawing nearly as perfect as the event. “Sometimes I forget how good you can be at this,” “Thank you,” “Don’t flatter yourself,” Darion chimed. He stole a glance at the bathroom like he was checking for Evelyn. “You may be talented. But I can’t be seen outside as an alpha mated to a wolf less, plus sized girl,” “So you chose to humiliate me by being with my sister?” Evelyn returned to the room before he could give me an answer. She slipped into loose nightwear and joined Darion. “Did you enjoy it?” She asked, kissing him. Darion wrapped the paper up and kicked the easel out of his path. “You may go. I’ll call you when next I need your services,” I gathered what was left of the materials and hurried out of the room, tears trickling down my eyes. I thought I heard Evelyn calling and following me. But my legs led me faster through the corridors until I was back in my room. The door clicked shut behind me. The strength holding me together disappeared the moment the latch settled into place. My back slid against the wood until I was sitting on the floor, hugging my knees as silent sobs shook through my body. How much longer could this continue before there was nothing left of me? Every day, another piece was stripped away. My dignity. My pride. My heart. Yet I stayed. Not just for Dorian. “Mum?” The small voice pulled me back. My head snapped toward the hearth where Theo sat cross-legged on the rug, bits of charcoal scattered around him. The firelight danced over his dark curls as concern filled his silver eyes. “You’re crying.” Quickly, my sleeves brushed across my cheeks. “No, sweetheart.” A smile forced its way onto my face. “Something got into my eyes.” His little brows pinched together. Without another word, he climbed to his feet and walked over. Tiny hands cupped my face before his thumbs carefully wiped away the tears I had missed. “It must’ve hurt.” A weak laugh escaped me. “A little.” “It’ll be okay.” His innocent confidence almost broke me all over again. Leaning forward, I wrapped my arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent that always reminded me everything was worth enduring. Only yesterday, it seemed, those tiny hands had been wrapped around my finger in the birthing room. Six years had somehow slipped away. The fragile newborn who couldn’t even hold up his head had grown into the sweetest little boy I’d ever known. Pulling away before he noticed the fresh tears threatening to fall, I rose to my feet. “Let Mum change, okay?” “Okay.” While Theo returned to the hearth to continue doodling on another sheet of paper, I changed into a fresh dress, folding away the one stained with charcoal and humiliation. Three knocks echoed through the room. Before I could reach the door, Theo had already pulled it open. Evelyn stood outside. She looked radiant, as though the last hour hadn’t happened at all. “There you are,” she beamed. “I came to borrow my favourite little man.” Theo’s face lit up. “For a walk?” “For a walk.” “No.” The word escaped before I could soften it. Evelyn’s smile barely shifted. “That wasn’t a question.” Her gaze settled calmly on mine. “Dorian wants to spend time with his son.” “Then Dorian can come here.” “He commanded me to bring Theo.” Her expression sharpened just enough. “Unless your plan is to keep a father away from his own child.” The accusation struck exactly where she intended. She knew I couldn’t refuse. Not when Dorian had ordered it. Closing my eyes for a brief second, I swallowed the knot in my throat. “All right.” Theo hurried over, already excited. Crouching before him, I straightened his little coat before pressing a kiss against his forehead. “Stay close to Aunt Evelyn.” “I will.” “Don’t wander off.” “I won’t.” “And come home as soon as you’re done.” His little arms wrapped around my neck. “I promise.” Another kiss found the top of his head before I forced myself to let him go. My fingers lingered in his hair until Evelyn gently took his hand. They walked away together. I remained at the doorway, watching the small figure disappear farther down the corridor. Another knock on my window pulled my attention away. I immediately locked my door after realizing who it was. He pulled my window up and slipped in. “Why are you here?” “There’s a buyer for your weird castle sketch. The one you asked me to burn,” “What? You kept those? Dylan!” “He offered three thousand Wul coins,” The rest of my words settled in my throat. Dylan nodded, his excitement reeling all over the room. “Why haven’t you sold it yet?” I asked. “He wants to meet the artist,” I shrugged. “Fine. Fix a date. I’ll find something good to wear and make sure that this…” “Tonight,” Dylan cut me short. “He wants to see you tonight,”