4P ยัยเนิร์ดโดนนักบาสรุมซ้อมอย่างหนัก! PWP

In the dimly lit room shared with other omega members, a sigh escapes me. I notice the door is slightly open, and I sense his presence without even looking—a familiar sensation sending shivers down my spine.

His footsteps echo as he nears. When he takes my hand, I flinch but quickly compose myself, not wanting to show how much he affects me.

He presses my back against the wall and holds my hands up. I avoid looking at his face, feeling trapped, as he presses against me.

In the intense and uncomfortable moment, I can sense his erection. I try to endure it without letting him see how much it affects me.

Alpha Tristan is many things. I despise him with everything within me. After my father's death, I was brought to him, and I don't seem to understand the connection between him and my uncle.

This has become his regular practice - he asserts control, and he can take me whenever he wants.

"Show me your utmost submission because you rely on my protection. You're mine for a reason," he commands.

I nod, awaiting his next move.

Forcefully, his lips meet mine, and I reluctantly part my lips as he kisses me fiercely.

He explores further, squeezing my breast. I shiver, and he raises an eyebrow, satisfied.

"So many things I want to do to you, but not today; saving the best for tomorrow when I'll mark you," he whispers.

Fear grips me, and I gulp, nodding my head in acknowledgment.

"You must look presentable tomorrow," he says, pointing to a dress bag on the bed. I hadn't noticed he dropped it there.

I stay silent, keeping my eyes on the dress bag. The looming mating ceremony fills me with dread; he knows how much I hate being around him.

He approached me, noticing something wasn't right. Lifting my face with a gentle touch, he brought his lips close to where my mate would mark me.

Lost in my thoughts, his voice pulls me back. "You seem nervous," he observes, looking straight into my eyes while I avoid his gaze. "I'll forgive you for being nervous."

After a moment, he lets go and heads for the door. "Rest well, my lady," he says with a mocking tone before leaving.

I glare at the door and angrily throw the dress bag against it. My heart races, and I shake my head at my fate.

I despise him—my unwilling Alpha, my unwanted mate. I can't stand him—I'm not his mate. Why does he insist on marking me?

To be marked and mated to Tristan only means one thing: I am bound to him for life, and I won't let that happen.

I know the expectation is for me to be thrilled about being marked by Alpha Tristan of the Croftwood pack.

However, I can't accept the happiness others want for me. If I'm to be mated to this man, it means living a life as a prisoner, a pawn for pleasure.

I pace back and forth, wrestling with thoughts of what to do. The weight of the situation drains me, and I feel exhausted.

A sudden push from the door brings me back to reality. A sense of relief washes over me as I realize it's Cara, one of the omegas. Her presence only means one thing: a call to duty.

Cara and I share a close bond, considering each other friends. We try to keep our friendship subtle to avoid raising any eyebrows from our superiors.

"Lyra, let's hurry before that wicked witch comes looking for us," Cara says. I agree, hastily standing up and following her to the kitchen.

While in the kitchen, Chloe abruptly barges in. Sasha, my wolf, rolls her eyes. "Oh, not today.”

Chloe is dressed in an elegant red dress that compliments her figure. Her eyes are strikingly beautiful, a shade of hazel, and her nails are manicured.

Despite her attitude, it's hard not to notice the undeniable beauty Chloe effortlessly carries.

She doesn't stop at making my life miserable with each passing day in the pack. And this makes me wonder and ask, "Why does Tristan want me? He has Chloe."

With arrogance and her gaze cutting through the room, I avoid her piercing stare. I know today won't be easy.

Chloe hurls insults at me. "You are a pathetic excuse for a wolf, a weakling like you shouldn't even be in my presence. I doubt you can accomplish anything as a breeder.”

I take a deep breath to maintain my composure, but Sasha growls defiantly in my head.

Her commanding voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Enough of your presence here. Go set the table," she orders, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.

I hurriedly left to do her bidding. "What's she doing in the kitchen?" Sasha questions.

I sigh and murmur, "Who cares," focusing on the task at hand.

Without much ado, I go about my work. I serve Alpha Tristan his dinner. He doesn't even glance at me once, for which I am grateful. Chloe is with him.

After finishing, I return to my room and pace back and forth, wrestling with thoughts of what to do. The weight of the situation drains me, and I feel exhausted. Eventually, I doze off into a deep sleep.

In my dream, terror grips me, and I cling to my mother tightly, my eyes shut tightly at the frightening scene unfolding before me. My whole body vibrates with fear, even with my eyes still closed. Summoning courage, I finally opened my eyes to the scene.

Amidst the chaos, my father's formidable black wolf, with shining brown eyes, stands bravely in battle. Strength and courage emanate from him.

But then, a shadowy figure emerges. Fear tightens its grip as I strain to see, but the face remains hidden.

My father, in his wolf form, valiantly fights against this mysterious figure with growls and clashes.

The shadowy figure swings a sword, slashing my dad's heart. He collapses to the ground, growling in pain, desperately fighting back.

My mum, in a desperate howl, drops me and shifts into her wolf form to join the fierce battle.

Then I wake up with a jolt as hot tears stream down my eyes.

My heart races like it wants to escape my chest as the remnant of the dream lingers in my mind.

Scanning the room, confusion clouds my thoughts as I search for reassurance that it was just a dream.

The dream is disturbing because it keeps recurring. I had watched my dad get killed by a ruthless Alpha right in front of me, and since then, the scene of battle keeps reoccurring.

As I struggle to collect my thoughts, I hear a sudden loud knock on my door.

I jump as my eyes widen in surprise, looking towards the door, wondering who is there.

I hesitate for a moment, debating whether to open the door, but the knocking persists. The knock adds to my unease, and fear and confusion linger.

Summoning courage, I take a deep breath and get up, opening the door to face the unknown. My heart pounds in my chest from fear as he shouts in indignation.