Rhett's POVThe air was cold this morning.Good. I liked it that way.The cold woke the senses. It stripped away pretense and laziness. Nothing sluggish survived the bite of a pre-dawn chill, not even me. Especially not me.The sky was still bleeding grey when I stepped out onto the training grounds, sleeves rolled, boots grounded in frost. My shirt clung to me, already damp from the jog it took to get here, and my knuckles ached with anticipation. Killian was already there, stretching, his stance sharp as ever. Nikolai, of course, arrived late—but only by a minute. Probably on purpose. He liked flair.They didn’t speak when I joined them.They didn’t need to.We trained in silence.Blades drawn. Boots grounded. Sweat already beginning to bead beneath our brows. The first strike came fast—Killian lunging low, aiming for my thigh, but I pivoted, spun, and countered before he even reset his stance. Nikolai watched, lips curled in that same amused smirk he always wore when someone was ab
Declan‘s POVI left the dining room with more than food in my stomach.Rhett hadn’t said much after that last exchange. Neither had I. But the air between us had been coiled so tight I could’ve snapped it with a whisper. It wasn’t just sexual tension. That was the easy part. This was worse—something ancient crawling beneath our skin, something neither of us wanted to name but couldn’t pretend wasn’t there.I hated that he made me feel anything beyond contempt.And yet I couldn’t stop replaying every second of the last twenty-four hours in my mind like my body was still trying to memorize him.Back in the room, I shut the door harder than necessary. The guard didn’t say a word. Smart of him. I wasn’t in the mood for eyes or mouths.I walked straight to the bathroom.The water was already steaming. The maids had prepared it while we were gone—probably under orders. Everything was always under orders in this place. I peeled off the borrowed clothes, felt the strain in my thighs and calve
Declan's POVI’d woken alone.The scent of him still clung to the sheets—raw sex, smoke, blood, and whatever that damn cologne was he wore that sank straight into my bloodstream like poison. My body ached. My head throbbed. I felt both fucked and furious.And my ankles were still bound.Rhett hadn’t even bothered with a blanket. Just left me bare, used, and chained, as if I were nothing more than a problem stored for later. My heat had broken sometime in the early hours—what was left now was just exhaustion and the sharp edge of my pride screaming at me not to be weak.He wanted me to beg.He wanted me compliant.He was going to die disappointed.The restraints were silver-reinforced, of course. Not enough to burn, but enough to sap my strength every time I tried to shift. I’d already tried once after he left, hoping the bond hadn’t completely locked itself in place. But even with my wrists free, the moment I tried to snap the chain with a surge of strength, something in my spine reco
Rhett's POVThe moment the door clicked shut behind me, I allowed the silence to stretch.Not because I needed it—but because the wolf in me demanded it. The quiet was a balm, even if it couldn't dull the heat still coursing through my veins. My body bore the signs of battle—marks from teeth and nails, bruises where control had nearly slipped—but I kept my spine straight and my expression unreadable as I moved through the hall.No one stopped me. No one dared to look twice.The corridor leading to my private study was dim, lined with silver-framed portraits of Alphas long gone. Men who'd ruled with iron tongues and red hands. I never paid them much attention, but tonight, as my fingers grazed the edge of the door to my office, I wondered what they'd think of me.Crowned in blood, mated to defiance, still walking the razor's edge of restraint.I stepped inside.Killian was already there, standing beside my desk like he owned half of it. He didn’t. But he knew I wouldn’t correct him.No
Rhett's POVHe didn’t stop when I entered.His wrist was gripping the base of his cock, stroking with the kind of focus only desperation could produce. He didn’t speak. He didn’t blink. His eyes met mine and held there, burning bright with defiance—and something darker. He was baiting me again, but this time, not with his mouth.With his body.The chain still locked around his ankles clinked softly as he shifted to spread his legs wider, hips rolling upward as if to show me what I’d already taken. What I could take again. He knew exactly what he was doing.And it worked.I stepped forward, slowly, deliberately. There was no rush. He wanted a reaction—he was going to get one.“Is that for me?” I asked as I stopped at the edge of the bed, stripping my shirt from my body and letting it fall to the floor. My voice was quiet, calm, but there was no warmth in it. Only ice.“I don’t see anyone else here,” he said, voice low and rough, his jaw clenched tight.I reached forward and gripped his
RHETTThe moment I released him, Declan collapsed in on himself as if he could escape what had just happened. He dove into the sheets, his body still damp with sweat and cum, breathing rapidly, his heart racing. And I, the would-be King of the North, just sat there.The cigar was clenched between my lips. The blood on the back of my neck where he'd bitten me had begun to dry. Bruises had started blooming on my hips from where his thighs had gripped me tightly as I thrust into him.The air in the room was thick with the smell of sex and tension."Get some rest," I told him."Don't speak to me," he bit back.I didn't.I took another drag. I kept my eyes on the red tip at the end of the cigar that pulsed in the dim room and listened to the silence stretch between us.I should feel victorious. I'd staked my claim. Fucked him through the worst of his heat and asserted my dominance on the most rebellious omega on this side of the continent.But the truth was, I felt shattered.Not with guil