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My teeth elongate as a snarl tears from me. I notice the tears pricking her eyes before she clenches them shut with a whimper.

Her body tenses underneath mine, bracing for something she doesn’t want but believes is inevitable.

“You can fight it all you want, but that won’t change the fact that we are destined to be together, I can smell your arousal just as clearly as I can smell your fear. So, shall we stop fighting or do I really have to make you submit?”

“If you are going to mate me, do it. Stop playing around and get it over with!” she hisses, causing me to growl again, this time in frustration. I lean close to her ear and whisper.

“I am not a mindless beast to mate you for the sake of the bond, you may think it but I won’t force myself on you.”

She turns her gaze to meet mine, and I thrust my hips against her heat, she gasps.

“Not that I couldn’t if I wanted to,” I warn her. Her lip quivers and she nods once averting her gaze. “However, I am not a monster,” I tell her.

But I can’t help myself, lowering my head I lick the blood from her neck where I accidentally scratched her, and she tastes even better than I imagined. My body comes to life against her thigh and she moans at the feel of my tongue on her body. Pulling back, I watch her neck heal, her eyes glazed over in lust from the endorphins in my saliva healing her.

“Never slap me again, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions. Understood?”

“Y-yes,” she stutters, her voice breathy from the lust coursing through her veins. I could have taken her right then and there, but I don’t want it like this.

“If you ever question my intentions again, I won’t be so nice,” I growl, her breathing heavy as she pants.

“Fine, I apologize for accusing you of hurting him…” she stammers out, and I can tell she doesn’t mean it, but a small part of me still accepts it, knowing she probably knows nothing but cruelty. Pulling back, I stare at her for a second, then let her go. She scurries off the bed, grabbing her discarded towel and wrapping it around her naked figure.

“Get dressed, we are leaving soon,” I tell her, and she storms off to the bathroom, slamming the door.

Chapter

Twelve

AZALEA

Kyson tends to the crackling fire while I sit at the table, engrossed in trying to read the ancient maps set in front of me. His voice fills the room as he passionately explains each Kingdom’s significance, history, and intricate relationships. To my untrained ears, it all sounds like a foreign language, but I am determined to try and understand and follow what he is explaining.

He also unpacks the tangled relationships between Ester and Trey, and how Marrissa was my father’s mate. That piece of information explained why I never saw her shift, although I can’t fathom why Marrissa and Jordan didn’t make an effort to save themselves. They could have easily overpowered Alpha Dean’s Pack, given their Lycan status. There are also gaps in his explanations that puzzle me. He walks back to join me on the sofa. Kyson starts idly braiding my hair. The atmosphere is comfortable; Kyson appears almost lobotomized. Whatever Damian had said to him has transformed his demeanor entirely.

His fingers brushing against the back of my neck sends a shiver down my spine and causes me to cringe slightly atthe ticklish sensation. I know I’m treading dangerously, but something has been playing on my mind all afternoon. So I decide to ask.

“Can I ask you something?” I inquire, leaning back and resting my head on his thigh.

“Hmm,” he hums noncommittally, tipping my head forward so he can finish braiding my hair.

“You mentioned you commanded Ester, right?”

He grunts in agreement again, and I furrow my brows in thought. Through our bond, it’s clear he isn’t fond of this line of questioning.

“How strongly did you command her?”

“Quite firmly; enough for her to collapse if she lied,” he replies casually. “Why do you ask?”

“Just some things aren’t adding up for me,” I confess.

“Like what?”

“For starters, why didn’t Marrissa shift when Alpha Dean’s men attacked? If she was a Lycan, she should have been able to kill them with ease,” I point out. He falls silent for a moment, clearly deep in thought.

“I’ve wondered about that too. But Garret died; that might have affected her Lycan side. Lycans weaken drastically after their mate dies. Most don’t survive the loss, and if she had sired you, that could have been the only reason she was still alive,” Kyson suggests, and I sigh in frustration.

“But what about Ester not recognizing her?”