Chapter 24 Lyra
The sight of him filling the room made Sasha whimper, and my core burned even hotter. I clenched my fists, hoping the intensity of the burn would ease. The mark on my neck only added to the agony; it stung with every move Kessler made toward me.
Damn, this mate bond. Just seeing him makes me want to leap into his arms, but no matter how hard I try to suppress it, the mix of pain and pleasure is overwhelming.
The struggle to resist was tearing me apart. I yearned to surrender to the magnetic pull between us, to give in to the ecstasy of our connection. It was a battle I wasn’t sure I could win.
As he moved closer to me with a questioning look, he immediately yanked the duvet out of my grip. I instinctively recoiled, not wanting to be near him, afraid of what I might do in my current state of mind.
“You took off the cuff?” he asked, his expression puzzled.
“Isn’t it obvious, dumbass?” I snapped, my anger flaring.
His gaze darkened as if he was irritated by my outburst, but right now, I couldn’t care less.
I turned away from him, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. His proximity was both comforting and maddening, stirring up conflicting desires. But I knew I had to keep my distance.
“Just leave me alone,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, yet dripping with frustration.
He lifted me in a swift motion and slammed my back against the headboard. I winced in pain as he towered over me, his eyes ablaze with rage.
“Watch your tongue around me,” he growled, his voice laced with menace, his eyes turning red with fury.
“And if I don’t?” I retorted defiantly, the anger bubbling up inside me. “Kill me like you killed my father, asshole!”
I didn’t know where the outburst came from; perhaps it was the lingering effect of the dream I had, the one where I saw him kissing Annie. And now, it was plastered all over the news that he was engaged to be married to her.
His grip tightened on my shoulders, his anger palpable as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my skin.
He released me with a forceful shove, his words a warning that sent a chill down my spine. “If I were you, I would think before saying nonsense,” he muttered under his breath, his tone menacing.
I had had enough of his games, his attempts to manipulate me. He wasn’t going to intimidate me, not anymore.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.
“And if I were you, I would think before showing your face around me,” I shot back, my voice dripping with anger. “You think I don’t know?”
His expression hardened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it morphed back into a mask of indifference.
“You don’t know anything,” he replied coldly, his words cutting through the tension like a knife.
“I won’t give in easily,” I reiterated, my voice barely above a whisper, despite the searing desire coursing through me.
“Do you?” he asked, his voice low and probing, his eyes searching mine for the truth behind my words.
I held his gaze, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on me. “I know enough,” I replied cryptically, refusing to reveal the extent of my knowledge. “And trust me, you don’t want to test me.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to maintain my composure under his scrutinizing gaze. Every fiber of my being longed to surrender to the overwhelming desire coursing through me, to give in and lose myself in the heat of the moment. But I clung to my pride, refusing to let him see how deeply he affected me.
“You’re engaged to her,” I whispered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “What will become of me? You’ve marked me, and yet you’ll marry her, parading her to the world while I remain your dirty little secret, hidden away to preserve your image as a Lycan.”
But even as I spoke, a part of me knew that I could never truly be free until I broke free from the chains of his hold on me.
“I never took you for someone so smart,” he remarked, his tone a mixture of surprise and admiration. “You got the gist without missing a word. You know what?” he asked, his face drawing nearer to my lips. The heat of his proximity seared through my body, sending shivers down my spine. My nails dug into the bed, a feeble attempt to anchor myself as I struggled with my aching heart.
“You mean nothing to me, nothing to my pack,” he spat out harshly, his words cutting through me like a knife. “I never wished for a mate. I wish you never fucking crossed my path. I have no need for you, and yes, I’m going to marry her, and I don’t care what you think of that.”
His words landed like a blow, the pain of rejection echoing in every syllable. But despite the agony tearing me apart, I refused to let him see how deeply his words wounded me.
My heart sank, a wave of despair washing over me as tears blurred my vision. I was consumed by a mixture of anger, hurt, and frustration. How many times had I allowed him to trample on my feelings, to make me feel so utterly vulnerable? His words crushed me, leaving me feeling utterly defeated.
But as he stood before me, his expression unyielding, something inside me snapped. With a surge of newfound resolve, I lashed out, smacking him hard across the face.
He met my gaze head-on, his grip tightening around my neck as he lifted me off the ground. I didn’t flinch, didn’t struggle against his hold, because deep down, I knew he could feel my pain too, bound to me as my mate. And if he chose to end me, he would suffer the consequences just as much as I would.
I struggled to catch my breath as he dropped me, my hand instinctively going to my neck, feeling the bruises forming where his grip had been. He didn’t spare me a second glance, his indifference cutting deeper than any physical pain.
But I refused to be dismissed so easily. Pushing myself up, I met his gaze with defiance blazing in my eyes.
“If you don’t want me, if I mean nothing to you or your pack, then why keep me caged here?” I demanded, my voice trembling with pent-up emotion. “Why act like you want to fuck me at every turn, and hold me like you never want to let me go?”
I waited for his response, steeling myself for whatever came next.
As he stepped closer, a hungry look in his eyes, I recoiled, a surge of contempt coursing through me.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” I screamed, my voice raw with anger and disgust. “And don’t you dare touch me with those filthy hands of yours, stained with my father’s blood, you murderer!”
My words are heavy with accusation and loathing. I stood my ground, refusing to let him see the fear and desperation churning inside me.
He froze, the lust in his eyes replaced by something darker. Anger, or guilt. But it didn’t matter. I had said what needed to be said and unleashed the pent-up fury that had been building inside me for far too long.
For a moment, neither of us moved, the tension between us crackling like electricity in the air. Then he stepped back, fuming in anger. That was my cue to leave his room. I wasted no time as I stepped out of the room, but he did something that made me gasp.