Page 78
Story: May the Wolf Die
Several gaudy rings adorned his fingers, his hands steepled together at his chin. “My, my… finally. Marlowe, the prophesized omega, in the flesh.” He took a step forward and I moved back, pointing a finger at him.
“Stay right where you are,” I growled. Ezra winced at my tone but the king merely smiled.
“How adorable, attempting to order me around.” He looked down towards Ezra, who was still on the ground. “My apologies for surprising you out here. I felt it when you both crossed into the realm and I couldn’t contain my excitement.”
Ezra didn’t respond, his eyes downcast while the king walked around me, assessing me carefully. “The family resemblance is strong, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I looked straight ahead, willing my heart to calm down. There was a powerful aura emanating from this male, something I’d never felt before. I knew he wouldn’t kill me, not if I was as necessary as the prophecy and Ezra had suggested, but he could still hurt me or my pack.
Moving faster than I could even perceive, he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and breathing in my scent. An erection grew against my back, and his panting quickened.
“Ezra, leave us,” he commanded.
Ezra paused. I could see the fear and worry in his eyes, and honestly? It pissed me off. He was the one who had brought me here, for this very purpose. What the hell had he thought was going to happen?
“Leave!”
My brother winced, gripping his temple for a moment before standing and bowing his head. Then he shifted into a wolf and scampered off into the woods. He stopped for a moment and turned back, letting out a small whine before continuing on his way.
“He’s worried about you,” he said quietly in my ear.
Even the lilt to his voice had an otherworldly quality to it, somehow both comforting me and keeping me on edge. Like he was luring me into an obvious trap, but I was powerless to stop myself.
“Should he be?” I asked, finally finding the courage to speak again.
He chuckled darkly, his hands beginning to wander. “Perhaps. I have such wonderful plans for you, Marlowe. I will see them through no matter what, but depending on your temperament, I can imagine your brother finding my methods somewhat… difficult to watch.”
I stayed as still as I could. Fighting would be useless, his strength was overwhelming. What could I even do right now to resist? My own brother, who had just demonstrated himself as the strongest alpha on Earth, had offered me to this monster on a silver platter.
When his hands grabbed my breasts I muffled back a cry, and the king laughed. “Ezra had warned me you were obstinate, and yet you stand here passive as prey. Have you not yet learned how to weaponize your powers? How to fight back against opponents much stronger than you?”
“If I had, I sure as fuck wouldn’t be standing here getting groped by Legolas.”
He hissed, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Your tongue is not one of the powers I was referring to, Marlowe, at least not in this way.”
The king turned me around so I was now facing him. I almost couldn’t look at him directly. He was somehow both too beautiful and too terrifying. “Deny a male and he’ll take what he wants by force. But, offer a little with a promise for more, and he’ll become your willing slave.”
He grabbed my ass and began slowly grinding against me, whispering in my ear. “Seduce me, Marlowe. Give me any bit of yourself you can spare and I will worship you like the Moonsthemselves. Whatever you want will be yours, I need only your fealty. Your loyalty. And your assurances I may someday be worthy enough to share your bed.”
A strange sensation, like thousands of warm, invisible tendrils, seeped into my pores, and my body began to respond to him. But it wasn’t like when I had been in the beginning stages of heat. That had all felt… biological. Natural.
The slick that now pooled in my underwear, however, felt forced, as though he were wringing it out of me. What kind of power did Alaroth have? Could he really manipulate physical reactions like this? I had absolutely no attraction towards this male, and it made me angry he could compel my body like this.
I tried to ignore what he was doing, and instead focused on what he’d said—a thinly veiled threat to get me to fall in line. He was trying to make it seem like I had a choice here, but the only decision was whether or not to pretend that I liked him. That regardless of which way I went, he’d get what he wanted. So might as well do it the easy way, and then maybe I’d get what I wanted, too.
Of course, I’d never get what I really wanted, which of course was to go home to my pack. It sounded like he’d been waiting a long time for us to show up, so he’d probably never let me opt out of whatever plans he truly had in store for me and Ezra.
So, the real question boiled down to this—submit or protest? Roll over or fight?
If I agreed to his terms, he may let his guard down around me, and I could find a way to hurt him or at the very least escape.
But… what if I played along, and since heknewI was playing along, he would then watch me for betrayal even more closely?
Or I could refuse to participate in his games entirely and dig my heels in every inch of the way. But would I be okay with assault or worse?
My mind was spinning with choices and what-ifs. King Alaroth wasn’t going to be as easy to fool as those idiot farmers or even the Conclave. Maybe he even had magic that could detect lies—I had absolutely no idea what was possible here.
And the worst part of all was that I could hardly concentrate as the king continued his relentless unnatural onslaught on my body. Large hands wrapped around my thighs, pulling them apart to make room for his leg. His lips devoured the skin on my neck, moaning every time he inhaled or I made the slightest noise.
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