~Hazel's POV~
He tasted like sin.
The kind of sin that ruins you. The kind that makes you forget your name and scream his.
His mouth found the soft curve of my neck, and I arched into him, breath hitching as his teeth grazed my skin. My back hit the bed before realizing he'd stripped my coat off. His body caged me in, heat rolling off him in waves as his lips moved lower—claiming, consuming, lost in hunger that wasn't just his.
No, this wasn't just him.
This was his wolf. Wild. Untethered. Consumed.
And gods… I wanted it. I wanted him, or them, whatever this was—feral and unfiltered. I didn't care. I just needed to be devoured.
His mouth crashed against my breast, sucking hard, his fangs scraping my nipple until I whimpered, toes curling. My fingers clawed down his back, nails dragging along taut muscles. I was growling. Me. Growling.
"I hate you," I whispered, not even recognizing my own voice—raw, shaky, desperate.
His hands moved fast, yanking my clothes away, and suddenly I was bare beneath him, skin flushed and trembling. His eyes devoured me. And when our bodies finally touched—skin to skin—I felt it. That raw charge between us is like lightning waiting to strike.
I reached for him, wrapped my hand around his thick, veiny length. He groaned, low and guttural, and I felt it echo through my bones. We didn't speak. We didn't need to. The silence between us was louder than words. It was all tension. All heat. All claws and breath and sweat.
He climbed over me, fingers wrapping tight around my throat—not choking, just holding, as if grounding himself. His eyes met mine, dark and wild.
"You still want to reject me?" he growled, voice breaking apart with need.
"Yes," I breathed. But the word was heavy. Angry. Confused. Full of things I couldn't name.
And then… he sank his fangs into my neck.
I gasped, loud and shameless, as fire shot through my veins. Caspian's bite had been sweet, delicate—almost romantic. But this?
This was raw. Feral.
Possessive.
My moan spilled out of me before I could stop it, echoing in the room as his mouth latched deeper. His bite branded me in ways I didn't know were possible, and when he finally pulled back, lips bloody and breath ragged, he kissed me—hard, fierce.
I kissed him back like I was drowning.
We rolled across the bed, heat building, spiraling into something dangerous. We shouldn't be doing this. We both knew it. Every touch screamed forbidden. Every thrust was a sin we were willing to commit again and again.
And then… he was inside me.
Just like that.
No warning. No hesitation.
A sharp cry tore from my throat. He was huge. Too much. But perfect. My walls clenched around him, my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to take every inch he gave.
"I hate you," I hissed, nails raking down his back as I pushed into his thrust.
"Damn it, you're tight," he groaned, his face twisted in pure, agonizing pleasure.
He flipped me over fast, his hands gripping my hips as he slammed into me from behind. My knees hit the bed, ass up, as a deep, punishing spank cracked across my skin—followed by another. And another.
My core pulsed, wetness dripping down my thighs.
"You still reject me?" he growled, palm landing again, harder this time.
"Yes," I gasped. "A million times..yes."
Lies. So many lies. Because the moment he marked me, rejection is no longer possible, we are already trapped, but the realization hasn't sunk in yet.
"You feisty little human," he snarled.
He flipped me again, dragging my body beneath him, his mouth finding my breasts—biting, sucking, licking until I was sobbing. I was losing my mind. My hands tangled in his hair as he kept moving, kept thrusting. His hot breath flickered over my sensitive peaks, and I was coming apart.
"I'll make you beg," he said, mouth still full of me.
I grabbed his face, forced him to look at me.
"Make me, Alpha Cayden. But I'll never submit to you," I spat, even as my body betrayed me, arching into him like I needed him to breathe.
That devilish smirk bloomed across his face. He loved it.
He loved that I fought him.
Without a word, he lifted me like I weighed nothing, carried me across the room, and laid me out on the polished table. My wrists were tied with his tie, held above my head like an offering. Looking like I was his next meal.
His eyes devoured me.
I was his prey.
"I warned you," he muttered, his voice low, dangerous.
He hovered above me, blocking out the light, casting shadows over my flushed, trembling body. Then one finger—just one—slid between my thighs. I gasped.
That was all he needed.
He lifted his finger to his lips, tasting me. And sighed like I was the best thing he had ever tasted.
Then he slid two in. My hips jerked. Wetness spilled.
Then three.
I threw my head back, moaning his name like a prayer, like a curse. He was relentless. Deep. Fast. Wicked.
"Take. It. Back," he growled between thrusts of his fingers, my slickness dripping onto the table.
"Never," I gasped, hips rocking, desperate for more.
He pulled away, and I thought I might cry.
But then his tongue replaced his fingers.
"Oh, f—Cayden!" I screamed, grabbing a fistful of his thick, dark hair, grinding against his face.
He was too good. He knew every spot. Every flick. Every swirl. I was wrecked.
He looked up at me, mouth shining. "Ready to swallow your words?"
I smirked through the haze. "Are you that desperate?" My gaze fixed on his hard, veiny cock.
His eyes darkened. He grabbed his cock, thick and leaking, and slammed into me in one brutal thrust.
I screamed.
And then I bit him—his neck, his shoulder—marking him like he marked me. He groaned, feral and loud, every thrust rougher, deeper.
"TAKE. IT.BACK."
"Impossible," I moaned, losing all sense of control.
His final thrust hit something deep inside, and I shattered, crying out as heat poured into me, thick and hot and endless.
We collapsed together, bodies shaking, chests heaving.
I could barely see. Everything was blurry. But I managed to whisper, "I'll never submit to you…"
Then the darkness took me.