KYRA KNIGHT

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I freeze in place, my lips still tingling from his kiss. My mind is a mess, and my body is on fire, yet I shove him back, struggling to compose myself. “Don’t… talk to me like that. Don’t touch me like that either,” I pant, each word trembling out of me like a fragile warning.

He watches me in silence, his golden eyes dark with something I can’t name, his tall frame casting a shadow that swallows me whole. My pulse races, a frantic drum in my ears. I can’t believe he stole my first kiss, something I always thought would be mine to give, not torn from me by force. My body trembles, not from fear alone but from something far more dangerous, a flicker of heat I don’t want to acknowledge.

“You taste…” he starts, his voice a low rumble, hungry and raw, like he’s savoring the memory of me.

“Shut up already!” I snap, the words sharper than I intend, my glare locked on his face as if defiance alone could protect me. My voice wavers despite my effort, betraying the battle raging inside me. I hate him, I should hate him. And yet my lips still burn, my heart still stumbles, as though my body hasn’t gotten the message my mind is screaming.

He smirks, running a hand through his dark hair, a flicker of amusement breaking through his dangerous expression. “Fine,” he says coolly, turning as though to give me space. “But that was your first kiss, wasn’t it?”

My breath catches. “How do you…”

“I can smell it,” he says simply, his eyes sliding back to me. “Your innocence. The way you reacted. The taste of your lips. It was obvious.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a whisper that vibrates down my spine. “And I want to be the one who takes everything else from you too.”

“Listen, you pervert!” I snap, frustration boiling over. “Leave me alone. You kidnapped me, and I know I can’t escape right now, but that doesn’t mean I want anything from you!”

He chuckles darkly at my outburst. “Pervert?” he repeats. “You’re the one who’s never been kissed before, little human. And yet here you are, blushing and trembling after just one kiss.” His hand moves to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch is gentle, intimate, and entirely wrong. “And your scent tells me you’re aroused.”

I frown, utterly confused and angry. “How do you know all that?”

“I’m a Lycan,” he says, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Even without my powers, my senses are sharp. I can smell your virginity, your innocence, your arousal… everything.” He leans closer, his voice a deep growl. “And right now, you smell like you’re in heat.”

I stare at him, stunned. I know what a Lycan is, or at least the myth, but I want to know more, to hear it from him. “Wait… what? What is a real Lycan? And what do you mean ‘in heat’? I’m not feeling hot,” I retort, forcing my tone into something casual even as my voice trembles and betrays me.

My eyes dart around his chamber, anywhere but his golden stare. The room is dark and elegant, every detail carved with an ancient precision, the flicker of candlelight catching on polished wood and velvet drapes. It feels like stepping into another time, another world, and it pisses me off that even now, in the middle of this nightmare, I’m noticing how beautiful it is.

But when my gaze inevitably slides back to him, broad shoulders, unbuttoned shirt, eyes glowing faintly like embers, I realize that what terrifies me most isn’t the room, or even the word Lycan. It’s him.

“A Lycan is a werewolf, but stronger and more powerful,” he says, straightening to his full height. “Faster, sharper, more resilient than humans. Their senses are heightened, instincts razor-sharp. They can heal from wounds that would kill an ordinary person, and their strength grows with the moon. But it’s not just their bodies, Lycan society is bound by packs, honor, and ancient laws, and their emotions run deep, often as wild and untamable as the beast within. And I… I am still a Lycan, even if I have no powers. The curse is killing me, and if you don’t break it soon, I’ll die. I was once the king of the Bloodshadow Pack, feared and respected, and even now… that blood still runs through me, and my pack still acknowledges me as their Lycan king. But the rival packs… they would tear everything apart if they found out I lost all my powers.”

He leans closer, eyes sharp. “And being in heat? That means your body is preparing for mating. It’s a biological response to a suitable partner... like me.” His smirk deepens at my expression.

“Mating… werewolf… are you drunk? Listen, I don’t believe in myths, okay? Also, let me go, or I’ll file a case against you,” I threaten, my words shaky but defiant, but deep down… his words awaken something in me I refuse to acknowledge.

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing against the ancient walls. “Go ahead. File a case against the powerful Lycan who kidnapped you. See how far that gets you.” He steps closer, his presence suffocating, his golden eyes glinting with danger.

“So… you’re a Lycan. It’s not a myth. And what were you saying about a curse and other creatures?” I ask, my voice lower now, a flicker of genuine curiosity slipping through my terror.

He raises an eyebrow at my sudden shift. “You believe me now?” he asks, a dangerous smirk playing at his lips. “Yes, Lycans are real. So are vampires, witches, and other creatures you’d call myths.” His expression darkens.

“What about the curse? You said you’re cursed,” I press, sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets so tightly my knuckles whiten.

“One question at a time,” he mutters, eyes locked onto me as if I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “Yes, I’m cursed. A witch stripped me of my powers a decade ago, turned me mortal.” He unbuttons the top of his shirt slowly, deliberately, each movement drawing my gaze despite myself.

“So, you’re no longer a Lycan with powers?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper, the question trembling out before I can stop it.

“Correct,” he says, lowering himself onto the bed beside me. He keeps just enough distance to be respectable, but close enough that every inch of me hums with awareness. His presence is magnetic, pulling at me even as my instincts scream to run. My pulse races, my body betraying me with every subtle shift of his weight.

“And marrying you would break the curse, returning my power.” His words are steady, calm, but his golden eyes burn into mine with a dangerous intensity that makes my throat go dry. He doesn’t look away, not even for a second, daring me to flinch. I feel it, the weight of his gaze, the heat radiating off him, the silent promise in the curve of his lips.

“But there’s a catch.”

“What catch?” I ask, biting my lower lip, my stomach twisting with anticipation and something else I refuse to name.

His thumb brushes my lip where I’ve bitten it, his touch electric. “The curse states that if I break it by marrying you, I have to stay married to you for life. No divorce, no escape, you’ll be mine forever.” His smirk returns, dark and slow. “Interested?”

“You think I’ll give up my life to marry you? A stranger? A fucking animal who kidnapped me?” I snap, my voice breaking as I spring to my feet. The space between us feels too small, the air too thick, and I need distance.

His smirk vanishes instantly. The golden glow of his eyes sharpens into something feral, something that makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Sit down,” he orders, his voice dropping to a low growl that vibrates in the pit of my stomach.

When I don’t move, his hand shoots out with lightning speed, fingers closing around my arm. His grip is firm but not bruising, the strength behind it effortless and inhuman. With one tug, he pulls me back down onto the bed as though I weigh nothing. “I said sit,” he snarls, the sound more beast than man.

My heart pounds in my chest, the defiance trembling on my lips even as my body betrays me, sitting rigidly where he’s placed me. “Why me, huh?” I demand, though my voice cracks just slightly, thinner than I mean it to be. “I don’t want to bind myself to someone I don’t love.” I roll my eyes, hoping it hides the tremor in my hands, the pulse fluttering at my throat, the way my body aches for him despite my words.

For a long moment, he says nothing. He just stares, golden eyes burning into mine, his whole body coiled like he’s holding back a part of himself I don’t want to see unleashed.