Claire's POV
The people who followed him gasped, their shock evident, unable to believe anyone would dare to reject an alpha's son, especially Dylan. But none of that mattered to me. My heart pounded in my chest, a bitter rush of defiance mixing with the satisfaction of standing my ground. The thought of being bound to someone like him made my stomach churn, he would only make my life a nightmare. So let them deal with it.
As for Dylan, his face morphed into an expression of pure anger, his features twisted in disbelief, as though the very idea of rejection was something he could never have imagined. He looked like he had swallowed something rancid, his mouth slightly agape, unable to formulate any words at first. I watched his face, cold and resolute, not feeling the slightest bit of regret. His silence stretched on for a moment, and I stood unmoving, still meeting his gaze with a quiet, unyielding confidence.
Behind him, Dinah stood with a smug grin, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't quite place. She seemed pleased with the turn of events, though whether it was because of the rejection or the fact that it seemed to finally give her the upper hand, I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, I didn’t care. I was too wrapped up in the victory of rejecting him to pay much attention to her.
Dylan's room, despite being able to accommodate a good portion of the crowd, surprised me with its stark emptiness. I expected something more lavish, more indulgent, but the room was plain. For someone like him, it was almost jarring. A minimalist. The realization gnawed at me, but I shoved it away, refocusing on what was happening in front of me.
A murmur began to ripple through the crowd, the buzz of disbelief and quiet speculation surrounding me like a cloud. I couldn't help but feel irritation at their curious stares, their voices rising in hushed discussion. They should have just kept watching, but I couldn't control the frustration that built in my chest.
"You bitch! How dare you?" Dylan's voice was low but dripping with venom. The quiet intensity of his words hit me like a slap to the face, and I felt a surge of adrenaline. The crowd fell silent, all attention on us. I could feel their eyes on me like hot coals, waiting for the next move.
I didn't flinch.
I shrugged, an almost apathetic gesture. "What would you have me do?"
His voice grew louder, each word sharpening like a knife. "Why didn't you let me do the rejecting?"
I stared him down, feeling the weight of his anger wash over me, but there was no fear. Only the sense of power that came with finally speaking the truth. "I do not want to be your mate!" My words were firm, the finality of them cutting through the tension in the room.
The words were like daggers to him, and I could see it, the way his face twisted in a grotesque mix of shock and fury. "You thought... that I would choose you for a mate?" he asked, his voice growing louder, almost mocking now. The mockery in his tone made my skin crawl.
Before I could even process the next few words, he yanked me toward him by my hair, his grip harsh and punishing. The sudden pull caused sharp pain to shoot through my scalp, and my breath hitched in my throat. My heart raced, but I wouldn't show him the weakness he so desperately wanted to see.
His words, barely above a whisper, carried a threat. "You must be very stupid to think I will ever want to take you for a mate." His voice was cold, dark, and laced with something even more sinister.
The pain was almost unbearable, but I refused to let any tears fall. Not here, not in front of him, not in front of them.
Then, before I could brace myself, his hand struck me across the face, hard. The slap was deafening, a resounding insult that sent a sharp sting through my cheek. As my head snapped to the side, the sharp pain bloomed, but I still didn't flinch. I stayed resolute, my eyes narrowing as I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. His spit hit my face next, and a surge of rage flooded through me. How could he?
The wicked smirk that spread across his face made my stomach drop. I recognized it, this wasn't just anger. This was cruelty, and I knew exactly what that smile meant. It was the same smile he wore when he bullied others, the same twisted smile I had seen too many times before.
My heart plummeted. What was he planning now?
He spoke, his voice sickly sweet, dripping with malice. "You know what? I just had a brilliant idea."
Fear trickled down my spine, even as I stood my ground. "If that is your brilliant idea, then you are sick. I just rejected you, remember?" I shot back, my voice trembling only slightly as I tried to hold onto my defiance.
But he was relentless. His smile only widened. "As long as I have not rejected you, I can still mark you." His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my blood ran cold. Could he really do that?
"And do you know the twist?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Right after I mark you, I will reject you."
The sheer horror of his words sank into me like a knife, twisting deeper with every second. He was willing to make me a rogue, to destroy everything in me. The shock left me momentarily speechless. Will he really do that?
The whispers from the crowd reminded me that we weren’t alone, that everyone was watching. I wanted to scream at them to mind their own business, but the words never came. I was paralyzed in the moment, fighting to keep my composure.
"The show is over. I need some privacy," Dylan said, dismissing the crowd with a wave of his hand, not even sparing them a second glance.
The door slammed shut behind them, and the music resumed, but I was left feeling cold, trapped in the suffocating silence of the room.
"Now, where were we?" Dylan's voice came like a low growl, and my skin crawled.
I punched him in the gut with all the strength I could muster, but the satisfaction was short-lived. He caught me by my hair again, yanking me back, and retaliated with a punch that knocked the air out of me. I staggered, gasping for breath, but before I could regain my balance, he was on me, landing blow after blow. The pain exploded across my face, my body, a wild, consuming fire that stole everything from me.
I couldn't think straight anymore. My thoughts were a blur of pain and rage as I writhed on the floor, gasping for air. What had I done? Why hadn't I just gone for his nuts? The thought was too late.
As his kicks landed, brutal and punishing, I could barely breathe. My body was a mass of bruises, each breath shallow and labored. I couldn’t even summon the strength to scream. I need to get out of here.
But then, just as he slowed, walking away for a moment, I saw my chance. I crawled toward the door, but he was on me before I could even get close, punishing me further with a barrage of blows.
"You know what?" I spat, my voice hoarse and weak, barely audible through the pain. "I don't care anymore. Do what you want. It’s not like anything matters anymore." The words were empty, the last remnants of my defiance slipping through my lips.
I couldn't fight anymore. I couldn't even lift my head. I was utterly spent, my body broken, my soul hollowed out by his cruelty.
"You don't need to tell me twice, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a sickly, mocking tone that twisted my insides.
His transformation was swift. His fangs elongated, his eyes glowing a molten copper, and his beastly side emerged in full force. It was terrifying, a monster so far removed from the person I had once known.
He had no intention of letting me go.
I guess this is it for me.
The thought reverberated through me, and I shut my eyes, bracing myself for what was coming next.
