MATED TO THE ENEMY BROTHERS

CHAPTER 8: What if?

OTSANA

Fenrir went for the door and pushed it inward. The sound wasn’t the welcoming thump of a family home but a slow and sickening groan of stressed iron and ancient hinges.

The air that rolled out was colder than the night itself, carrying a scent of dust and something… scary.

As I stepped in, it felt like the outside world vanished. This was not a pack house but more like a cathedral of the dead—and this was my home now.

The entry hall soared upward, an intimidating vertical cavern of black walnut paneling that disappeared into the gloom of a high, vaulted ceiling.

Hung high in the ceiling was a massive crystal chandelier that provided the only real light in the room.

My small, careful footsteps clinked sharply on the vast, black-and-white marble floor; the sound was immediately devoured by the immense space of the room.

As my eyes roamed about the room, my imagination, already on a terrified high, supplied details the weak light could not: enormous, overstuffed furniture draped in white sheets was at the center of the room.

The air was so still, it felt like an ancient clock had stopped ticking right as I walked in.

I spun my head around as I heard the other vampires coming behind us—in their midst was Rieka, supported side by side by two vampires.

Our eyes met, and I could see the killing glare she gave me, which made me turn away immediately. And I knew right then that she wasn’t going to welcome me like the others did. I knew she was going to make this place my hell.

Well, I wasn’t expecting her to welcome me. She was just human and less of a threat to me. I mean, she wouldn’t even dare come in my way.

What threat would a human pose to a werewolf?

Fenrir placed my luggage—my entire life—at the foot of a sweeping, dark wood staircase that seemed less like a way to the next floor and more like a path to the gallows.

He finally turned, his icy eyes warming only for me. “Welcome to the manor, Otsana.”

A small smile that didn’t reach my eyes found its way on my face as I looked him in the eyes. I felt nervous staring into his eyes, but again I felt he was giving me a reason not to be nervous around him. A reason to trust him. A reason to be comfortable here. A reason to call this place my home.

“Axel.” Fenrir called, and the vampire whom I said seemed to be the second-in-command stepped forward with the others behind him.

The look on their faces was still that strange, predatory stillness. The way they filled the hall—fifteen lean, hard bodies—made the space feel both grand and suffocating.

“Your highness is tired from her journey,” Fenrir stated, his voice now a command that echoed off the high walls.

Axel bowed, a quick, jerky motion that made his clothes rustle.

“My lord. I will have a room prepared immediately. The West Tower Suite is always ready.” He responded, bowed once again, and was ready to leave immediately before Fenrir stopped him.

“No. Not the West Tower suite. Prepare my suite for us,” his voice, low, but commanding.

Not the West Tower, but his suite? I thought. I looked back at Fenrir. A wave of exhaustion hit me, not from the journey, but from the fear that his identity had on me.

He is a vampire but also my mate. Can he be the better half I had been praying to the moon goddess for all this while?

Will he be the glue that will hold all my broken pieces together?

Can I fully trust him to protect me?

Wouldn’t he suck me dry one day when he also gets tired of their blood bags? Or when he can't control his urge for blood?

I know his vampires wouldn’t dare, as werewolf bites are toxic to them, but Fenrir was a hybrid, and that was why my blood didn't have an effect on him when he marked me.

“I will do just that, my lord.” He bowed and left immediately.

Fenrir took my hand, his palm warm against mine, but the gesture felt possessive and caring, not comforting, but I don’t think I have much of a choice. This is my home now. And in any way, I have to find comfort.

“Come. I’ll show you around. We have plenty of rooms here.”

As he led me past the main hall and deeper into a connecting corridor, the cold silence of the place was broken by a horrifying observation.

The second-in-command vampire, Axel, stepping back to let us pass, was still smiling his unnerving, pleasure-filled grin.

And then I saw it. Just above the collar of his stiff, dark tunic, there was a fresh, small, wet stain, an uneven spot of crimson… which strikes me to be blood.

My breath hitched, and the earlier, awful thoughts returned in a tidal wave. They were tired of blood bags.

“Each of my vampires has a room to themselves,” Fenrir’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

I nodded slightly at what he said, as I didn't want him to know I was absent-minded.

We kept walking along the corridor as I listened to everything Fenrir was saying. He went from showing me each individual suite to their main dining hall, his study, and finally on the first floor of the building was his own suite, where he said we would be living together.

Part of what he said was that his vampires had different rooms because, as vampires, they prioritized their privacy very much.

Once we were in his room, my luggage was already waiting for me. I stared around and was wowed at how spacious the room was and also at the king-sized bed and the walk-in closet beside the wall.

“Go take a shower before dinner gets ready,” he said, stripping himself half naked in front of the closet.

He was backing me, so I was able to take a peek at his back view. His upper body was solid, built not just for looks but for strength. His arms were also powerful.

I stood still, staring at him, enjoying the view of his hot body, and I had forgotten he asked me to go take a bath, and it was not until he spoke that I snapped out of my reverie.

“You love what you see,” he said, turning to face me, which made me raise my head, and I got to know he was looking at me from the mirror in front of him.

He wore a sultry smile as he approached me. I bit my lower lip shamefully and quickly turned away.

“No, I’m—I’m just—” I stammered, trying not to make him think I was drooling over him. I wouldn’t lie; I was, but I can’t admit that to him.

Every step he took made my heart thump slightly in my chest. I felt his hand touch my shoulder, sending a warm sensation down my body. And even in between my legs. Down there.

I felt his other hand touch my waist. And his hot breath fanned the base of my neck. My breath hitched. Blood rushed down every sensitive spot in my body. He closed the gap between us.

His half-erected d**k touching my body. I could feel it. His tongue rolled out this time, nibbling on the crescent mark he left there. As his tongue wiggled, it felt so good that I didn’t want him to stop.

I pressed my back on him, wanting to feel his d**k on me. Then I felt something wet and sticky between my legs. I felt my n*****s getting aroused and hard at the same time. What was that thing I was feeling between my legs?

Being curious to know what it was, I put my hand inside my skirt. I squirmed as my fingers made contact with the wet part. It felt sticky. I touched it once again, and I swear it felt really good. I haven’t felt this way in my entire life.

I felt his hand trace its way to my chest. His hand on the bare skin of my breast. I shuddered at the feeling, making me instinctively touch the wet part between my legs again.

His hand touched my hardened n****e. “Ummm. Fuck.” I moaned, enjoying the feeling.

As Fenrir continued fondling my breast with one of his hands and nibbling on my neck, I felt his canine meet my skin, and that sent a tingling sensation down my body, then the thought came again.

‘He was a vampire who had a craving for blood. What if he craves mine?’

This felt good, but I was scared. The smell of blood awakens something in vampires. And he can’t be any different.

I quickly removed my hand from my panties, and slowly, I turned to face him and stared into his eyes and asked him. “Fenrir, what if you crave my blood?”