Kael’s POV
Once Roman left, I stood staring at the door of the house, my fists tight at my sides. I was barely holding myself together. Her scent was everywhere—rich, wild, and rciless—and it was driving to the edge of reason.
I didn’t want to rush. I didn’t want to lose my mind. For Roman’s sake, I had been holding back, respecting the mark he had placed on her. But deep in my chest, where my wolf stirred, I had already decided: it should be . I should be the one to mate with her. She had always been mine—my responsibility first.
Their leaving had made it easier, though not by much. Now the most difficult part remained. I had to go to her. I had to claim her. She would hate more for it, but I was ready for her hate. Rafe was right—her safety ca first. And I owed her. For everything I had taken from her, from us both, I had to make it right.
I would mark her. She would be my mate. The thing I had denied for so long would finally be done.
I stepped toward the door, each movent heavy, as if chains were bound to my feet. Inside, my wolf purred and growled, impatient with my restraint. It wanted her now, fast, rough. But I held it back. I couldn’t lose control. I couldn’t hurt her.
Alphas could be ruthless when mating with a female in heat—especially a top-tier Alpha like , no less than a beast in the throes of instinct.
But I would not be a beast to her. I would be her mate, her protector. I would take care of her, guide her through it, love her the way she deserved, even if it killed to hold back.
I reached the door, my hands trembling as I pushed it open, straining with the restraint it took not to rip it apart with my claws. I pushed open it, finally.
The mont the air inside hit , her scent coiled tighter around —sweet, savage, rciless. It dragged under until my body shuddered violently, the beast inside roaring free. My vision blurred, my wolf growled and purred in the sa breath, drunk on her presence.
I clenched my jaw, forcing every ounce of my will to the surface.
My gaze swept the drawing room, searching. She wasn’t there. My ears rang with the thunder of my heartbeat, my senses sharpened to a blade’s edge. Then I caught it—the faint rhythm of her breath, the restless shift of her body, a sound that sliced through my senses.
My eyes locked on the bookcase. The hidden place. She was there, just beyond the wall. She must have believed that secret room could hold her scent, conceal her from us. But it failed her. It failed her against .
My legs moved of their own accord, dragging closer, every step heavy with the weight of desire and restraint. I pressed the book that unlocked the chanism, and the hidden door swung open.
The scent slamd into , stronger, rawer, more consuming than before. It nearly devoured whole.
I held back, forcing one deep breath through clenched teeth, and stepped inside.
Darkness. She had chosen to bury herself in it. But my eyes needed no light to find her. In the corner, huddled low, she tried to vanish beneath a pile of broken things—mattress, sheets, warrs torn apart in her desperation. The mont my presence filled the room, she jerked, movents frantic, sharper, like prey scrambling to escape a predator.
I turned on the light inside.
The room was chaos, destruction in every corner. And amidst it, she was curled, trembling, drenched in sweat. Her breaths ca ragged, her body wracked with the tornt of heat, pain she could not fight or ease on her own. Her hair was tangled, her face streaked with tears. Her hands clawed into the torn sheets, as if she could rip her agony away and bury it in the fabric.
The sight of her—raw, helpless, undone, beautiful even in ruin—drove the effect of her scent deeper into . In this confined space, it was maddening, a storm I could not escape.
It took everything in not to lunge forward, not to claim her like a ravenous beast. Every muscle strained, every breath a war. My wolf howled to take her, to fuck her senseless until the heat was gone.
But I held the line—barely.
She looked at with a frightened, wary gaze, trying to shrink farther back even though there was nowhere left to retreat. I stepped closer anyway, my own restraint fraying with every breath.
"Stay... away... from... ..." she rasped, the words barely more than a broken whisper.
Her hands curled protectively over her chest as if to shield herself, but her nails dug into her own skin instead, leaving angry red scratches across her flesh. Her face, her neck, her arms were already streaked with marks—wounds she had inflicted on herself in her desperate fight against the pull of her heat.
I couldn’t watch her suffer anymore. I crossed the last of the distance and knelt on the floor before her. She shrank back further, pressing herself against the wall as though she could disappear inside it.
"Eira..." My voice was rough, low, trembling from the restraint I was forcing on myself. "Don’t fight it. Let help you. Let take this pain from you."
"You... monster..." she gasped, her voice catching on every breath. "Stay... away..." Her chest rose and fell with violent shudders.
If it had been any other she-wolf, she would have already lost her mind in the throes of such a strong heat and would have jumped on the male, begging him to fuck her. But Eira was different. She was so used to deadly pain that her mind managed to hold on to a little rationality, at least, even in such a situation.
How strong she was! And what would beco of her when she finally gained control over her real strength and the hidden powers inside her? She would be invincible.
I was willing to help her beco that—even if it ant that one day she would use it against and kill to avenge herself.
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