Zaraith's POV

He leaned in close, his hand wrapped around my throat, not to choke me, but as though he wanted me to remember exactly how small I felt beneath his intimidating, imposing height. I struggled to swallow saliva, the earth cold at my back, but it was a stark contrast to the way his body burned like fire against my skin, piercing through every layer of my body.

My breath hitched, my magic now going reckless and unable to be put under control….all because of him and as a Fae, it wasn't supposed to be possible for a demon Lycan to have that effect on me.

“You….you should…should not be able to do this…” I choked out, my nails digging desperately into the ground, trying to break free from him. “No…..no one has ever bent my magic, never!”

I saw as his lips curled into a slight, menacing smirk, his golden orbs flickering in the dark. “Yet….” He snarled, leaning even closer, his hot breath brushing against my skin. “Here you are….bent to my will”

I gritted my teeth, the urge to spit into his face, curse and sink my nails deep into his skin built up, but unfortunately, the longer he pressed his body against mine, the more my body betrayed me. My heart pounded violently in my chest, too loud and fast, a surge of heat pulling low in me.

“Fuck…” I cursed under my breath. “I should kill you”

His smirk widened even more. “You should….little Fae” he spoke up with a slight nod, his lips grazing my skin. “But why didn't you?”

I pursed my lips and tilted my head away, hating the way my heart skipped a beat and my skin pricked due to how close he was.

“Because…because you aren't worth the effort” I replied.

“Lie better, little Fae” he whispered into my ear, his words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit.

His nose softly grazed my cheek and at that moment, I should have pushed him off or at least summon a dagger to slit his throat….bit they were all in my imagination. Instead, I stayed there, frozen, because I couldn't ignore the way my magic curled inside as though it realized something I refused to name, the way my chest rose and felt too fast, like I was high on adrenaline.

“Do you want to free you?” He asked, his tone almost sarcastic like he already knew what my reply would be.

“Ye…yes” I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper.

He squinted his gaze, his golden orbs searching mine. “Now….I want you to say it properly, like you actually mean it”

My breath subconsciously stopped, the only noise that could be heard was my ragged breathing. And at that moment, something inside of me suddenly snapped. Maybe it was the ache I felt deep in my body that had literally nothing to do with pain, maybe it was the tiredness that followed from a failed attempt to fight him, maybe it was due to the way he looked deep into my eyes….not as his enemy, or as a prey, no, but as though he was already aware I'll burn for him.

My emotions were conflicted, two truths tangled together until I couldn't tell which was the right one….hate and at the same time, need.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, dragging his body down. “Fuck you” I sneered against his mouth.

He didn't laugh or say something sarcastic this time around, instead, he leaned in closer and kissed me like I belonged to me. I moaned, biting down on his lips so hard I could taste his blood, but he only groaned, then pressed even harder until I couldn't think straight, until I couldn't differentiate between reality and a fantasy.

“You'll fucking regret this” I muttered, when his lips finally released mine.

“Unfortunately….” He spoke up, his voice raspy. “I don't regret”

Then, he tilted his head slightly, his tongue trailing up my jaw, his grip on my throat sliding down to my wrist as he pinned me down, like he wanted me to know this was my decision.

And the goddess help me, It was.

What came next wasn't soft or comforting, no. Rather, it felt like a violent clash of lightning with no restraint. And even when I pulled him closer to me, I still fought him, even when I let him touch me where no one else ever had, I cursed him under my breath.

Every kiss felt like a dare and every sound that tore without restraint through my throat was proof of me succumbing to him.

I hated the way my body craved even more of his touch, I hated that it felt so good and irritable, I hated that in this forest, when his lips were all over mine and his hands were all over me, I felt more alive than I ever had.

Finally, when it was all over after whatever like an eternity, he got up from my body, then I laid flat on my back, my mouth slightly parted, chest heaving heavily as I tried to catch my breath, my skin wet with sweat, my body sore, but amidst everything, there was something even worse, want.

Razek stares at me through his lashes, his eyes trialing every inch of my body. His lips were swollen from my bites, his neck and other parts of his body bleeding from my nails scratches, but the look on his face was even more surprising; he looked proud of himself.

“I like it when you fight back….you burn like wildfire” he muttered under his breath. “But when wildfire gives in, it always leaves scars behind”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, hating the way my cheeks flushed from his words. “Don't flatter yourself, Razek. This was nothing but a mindless mistake”

“Really?” He squinted his gaze slightly. “Then why do you look like you want to make it happen all over again?”

My brows knotted together as I pushed myself up, my body trembling. “Get out…”

That sly, taunting smirk returned to his lips as he stood to his feet slowly. “I'll go, little Fae. But you can't lie to yourself. And trust me…you'll definitely remember every single bite, every bruise…you'll remember me feel in your bones”

And just like that, he was gone before I could blink my eyes again, slipping into the night with no trace, as though he was never here.

I stayed frozen on one spot for what felt like an eternity, my legs refusing to move, my magic still incoherent, confused and quiet. But when I finally lifted my legs up, I felt almost the weight of him everywhere in my body; the ache between my thighs, the sting of his fangs on my throat and the unexpected warmth his presence brought.

I should have cursed myself for letting it happen, but deep down, I couldn't kill a truth that was so obvious.

I already craved him.

*******

By the time I got back to the Moon Temple, it was already daybreak. I walked through its big curved doors hurt, sore, but standing up.

And that was enough to make the room quiet. The sisters stopped praying, heads lifting like they'd seen a ghost. They thought I'd be bones, not alive. They thought I'd be the story told at the altar, not the shadow standing in their door.

"You're alive," one finally said, her voice flat, eyes looking at the bruises on my neck.

"Disappointed?" I asked, my voice rough but steady.

A wave of whispers cut through the room, sharp like knives. I looked back at each stare with my chin up. They looked at my torn clothes, at the marks that hadn't healed though we usually heal fast, at the faint blood still under my nails. I could taste the jealousy, thick and sour.

"You come back like this," another said with a mean look. "Bloody. Hurt. A shame to the Goddess."

I smiled, though it didn't feel good. "And yet I'm back. Tell me, sister…how would you have done in my place? Would your blood have stayed in you, or would it have spilled on the ground?"

Her face got red, and she looked away. None of them asked what happened, none dared. But the quiet between their words was louder than any blame. They hated me for living. They hated me because I showed I faced the trouble and came back breathing.

******

Three nights later, they talked differently. Suddenly their smiles were soft, their voices sweet. They called me sister with warmth that never was mine, they held my hands and said the Goddess had talked, that she picked me for an honor bigger than all others.

"You are to marry a Prince," one said sweetly, touching my bruised wrist like touching me made me clean. "He is your fated mate. The Goddess wants it."

I turned my head, making myself laugh. "How nice. I come back alive, and suddenly the Goddess writes me into her love songs?"

Another moved closer, her eyes shining sharp even with her smile. "It isn't nice. It's what was meant to be. Don't turn down her gift."

Gift. I almost laughed again, but the seriousness in their voices stopped me. My sisters didn't give gifts, instead, they gave knives wrapped in pretty cloth.

And this, whatever sick game they played, wasn't a blessing. Still, I smiled back at them, like a good daughter. "Then I'm honored."

Then, I got up and walked towards my chambers.

Inside, I got my knives ready.

That night, alone in my room, I tried to make a blade appear. The air shook a little, then stopped, my magic going away like water through my fingers. My knees gave out, sweat showed on my forehead.

Something was wrong. I put my hand on my stomach, not soft, not scared….I was suspicious.

My breath caught. It wasn't me being weak nor was it me being tired, no. But, it was him.

The truth hit like a sharp knife.

"He put a child inside me.”