ARIA’S POV:

My gaze darted back to Liam.

He stood in nothing but black briefs, muscles on display, tattoos twisting across his torso like shadows with a mind of their own. His golden eyes burned with something dangerous—something unholy.

“What’s going on?” I asked, but my voice came out too soft, too shaken.

He smirked. That damned smirk.

“Exactly what it looks like,” he said. He dragged a heavy wooden chair from the wall and placed it facing the bed. “Since you won’t give me what I want, you can watch someone else do it.”

My stomach twisted. “You’re sick.”

“I’m thorough,” he corrected, sitting down with a casual stretch. “Now sit.”

I turned toward the door.

His voice dropped, sharp and cold. “One more step, and I’ll drag Kael’s broken body in here and make him watch while I mark you.”

I froze.

He knew exactly how to cut me. Right where it hurt the most.

I turned back slowly, fists clenched, rage and helplessness choking me. He watched me with that same wicked amusement, like a lion watching prey that thought it could run.

I stared at him, then at the she-wolf on the bed. She was beautiful, seductive even, her body laid out like an offering.

And then I did the only thing I could do.

I sat.

Liam leaned back, completely at ease. “Good girl.”

****

He stood and unhooked the woman’s cuffs. She didn’t speak. She just crawled toward him like it was normal. Her hands moved over his chest, tracing the ink there. Then her mouth followed.

I clenched my fists. Looked away.

But I could hear everything.

The wet sounds. His low groan. The rustle of sheets. Her soft moans rising in pitch. The slurp of her mouth moving down his body.

Still, I didn’t look.

Until he said, “Eyes on me, little wolf.”

I forced my gaze open.

Liam was watching me.

Not her.

Me.

The entire time, his eyes were locked with mine. He leaned back, mouth parted slightly, and let her worship him while he devoured me with his gaze.

While her mouth moved on him, Liam's gaze stayed locked with mine—steady, heated, full of something twisted and cruel. His hand tangled in her hair, his hips rolled with slow power, but the way he looked at me made it worse.

My heart pounded harder with every motion, every breathless moan, every slick sound.

I hated him.

He lifted her effortlessly and laid her gently on the bed.

“Open your legs,” he commanded, his eyes still locked on mine.

I swallowed hard.

The woman obeyed, spreading her thighs without hesitation. Liam’s lips curved into a smirk before he knelt between her legs, and then he buried his face between them.

I tried to shut my eyes, to block out the sight, but her moans pierced through me like a dagger. It was loud, raw, and unfiltered.

I felt every sound like a pulse in my veins. No matter how hard I tried to resist it, I was getting aroused—aroused by the way he touched her, the way he devoured her like she was the only thing that mattered. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, hips grinding against his mouth with desperate rhythm.

“Damn him…” I whispered, fury and heat swirling inside me.

He stood and with a swift thrust, he was inside her.

Liam moved with brutal rhythm, not fast—but deep, hard. Purposeful. And the whole time, he didn’t stop watching me.

“You should be here instead of her,” he said, breathless.

“Never,” I spat, but my voice cracked.

The woman screamed his name. Her nails clawed at his shoulders. She collapsed under him in a moaning mess, while he grunted out his release, his gaze still locked with mine.

Then…

He groaned low, leaned forward, and gripped the woman tighter.

Her body arched.

And then… silence.

Liam stilled. His chest heaved. Then he leaned down and whispered something that made her giggle softly.

He pulled out, stepped away, and without looking at her again, waved dismissively.

She slipped off the bed, dressed quickly, and left the room without even sparing me a glance.

And then he turned to me.

I was still sitting, arms folded tightly around myself, face flushed and my heart pounding.

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” he said, walking toward me, still half-naked.

“You’re disgusting,” I whispered.

“You already said that,” he replied, amused. “Try again.”

“What do you want from me? You have women begging for your touch. Why bother tormenting me?” I snapped.

He stopped in front of me. Close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him.

He cupped my chin roughly, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Because they are not my mate,” he said. “You’re the only one the Moon Goddess chose. The only one that fights me like this. The only one I want to bend.”

I slapped his hand away. “You’ll never bend me.”

His hand came up fast—gripping my chin, not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough to remind me he could.

“Oh, Aria…” he whispered, lips brushing my cheek. “You keep saying that.”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and deadly soft.

“But when I take you,” he murmured, “it’ll be worse.”

My breath caught.

“Because you’ll want it.”