CHAPTER 4: Part 05

His hand slid down my stomach.

Lower.

Fingers between my legs.

I gasped, my body betraying me instantly.

He didn't rush. He didn't grip. He just… stroked.

Softly.

Teasing.

Slow circles against the wet heat that should not have been there.

My knees went weak, and I had to lean back against him for support.

"You're already wet," he said, louder now — just loud enough for Mira to hear. "From one touch."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shame washing over me in waves.

"Say it."

I stayed silent.

He twisted his fingers just slightly, hitting a spot that made stars explode behind my closed eyelids. My knees almost buckled.

"Say it."

"I'm wet," I whispered.

"For who?"

"You."

"Louder."

"For you," I breathed, shame flooding every corner of my body.

The words felt like poison on my tongue, but my body responded to his touch regardless of what my mind wanted.

He stepped behind me, one hand still between my thighs, the other gripping my throat—not to choke, but to remind me it was his.

The collar pressed against his palm, metal warming from our combined body heat.

"You were just begging me not to hurt her," he murmured. "And now your pussy's clenching around my fingers like you're the one being rewarded."

He bent me forward, hands splaying over the small table.

The wood was cold against my palms, rough and unforgiving.

Mira didn't move.

I could hear her breathing — quick, shallow gasps that matched my own.

"Keep your eyes open," he ordered her.

I heard her breath catch, a small sound of distress.

He kicked my legs apart.

Then entered me.

Slow.

Deliberate.

My lips parted, a cry half-trapped in my throat as he filled me. The stretch was always overwhelming at first, my body struggling to accommodate him even as it welcomed the invasion.

His hands gripped my hips, but there was no brutality now.

Only rhythm.

Only precision.

He fucked me like he had all the time in the world to destroy me.

Each thrust was measured, controlled, designed for maximum impact. Not just physical — psychological. This wasn't about his pleasure or even his dominance. This was a lesson.

"Look how easily she opens," he said to Mira, his voice perfectly steady despite what he was doing to me. "She doesn't even need my command anymore."

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood.

Each thrust rocked through me, deeper, crueler, because it was gentle.

He leaned over my back, one hand sliding between my breasts, pinching one nipple softly.

The dual sensation made me arch against him, a moan escaping before I could stop it.

"She begged me not to hurt you. But look at her now."

He cupped my breast as he thrust harder, deeper, slow enough to make me tremble.

"She's dripping onto the floor, Mira."

His voice was silk-wrapped poison, each word chosen to cut.

"Tell me, Aria. Are you moaning for her? Or for me?"

I gasped, voice cracking.

"For you."

"Why?"

"Because you made me."

"That's right."

He groaned low, thrusting deeper.

"Because I own this body. This heat. This cunt."

I whimpered, hating myself for the sound, hating my body for responding, hating him for making it impossible to do anything else.

"You shouldn't enjoy this," he whispered into my neck. "But you do."

He pushed once more, deep and full.

And came inside me.

A soft growl against my ear. A final, possessive thrust.

Then silence.

The only sound was Mira's ragged breath and my own desperate gasping.

Kael pulled out slowly.

I felt his release beginning to leak down my thighs, warm and sticky and humiliating.

He turned to Mira.

"Now you know," he said. "What obedience looks like."

His voice was perfectly calm, as if he'd just demonstrated how to fold linens or polish silver.

Then he walked out — leaving me bent over the table, bare, dripping, with the soft clatter of my shame echoing in the air.

The door closed behind him.

Soft.

Final.

I stayed where he left me — bent forward, arms trembling, slick dripping down my thigh, robe still on the floor, the silver collar burning against my skin like it had its own heartbeat.

The table pressed cold against my breasts.

The air was too quiet.

No one spoke.

Mira was still kneeling where Kael had left her. I couldn't see her face. I didn't want to.

I could hear her breathing — shallow, shaky breaths that spoke of trauma witnessed, of innocence lost.

I straightened slowly, my limbs shaking, shame clinging to my skin like sweat.

My breath came in soft, broken pulls.

I didn't cry.

There was nothing left to wring from me.

Nothing except silence.

And the sound I'd never heard before — so soft it could've been inside my own bones:

a growl.

Not Kael's.

Not Mira's.

Mine.

Low.

Animal.

Deep in my chest where my wolf lived — the same part of me that had been asleep since the day I was born.

She growled.

Not for pain.

Not for him.

For me.

The sound surprised me. I'd never heard my wolf's voice before, never felt her stir inside me. But now she was awake, and she was angry.

I wrapped the robe around myself, hands shaking. It stuck to my skin in places Kael had marked — wet, red, raw.

The fabric felt different now. Heavier. Like it carried the weight of what had just happened.

I sat on the bench.

I looked at Mira.

She was still frozen.

Eyes wide.

Tears balanced on her lashes like diamonds about to fall.

She'd seen everything. Every moment of my degradation, every second of my body's betrayal. She'd witnessed the truth of what I'd become.

I reached for her hand.

She flinched—but only for a second.

Then took it.

Her fingers were ice cold, trembling like leaves in a winter wind.

I didn't speak.

There was no apology for what she saw. No comfort to offer. Just one truth between us now — something neither of us dared say aloud:

He didn't break me.

Not yet.

And when I do break…

It won't be for him.

It will be because of him.

And when that day comes—

The wolf inside me will not be gentle.

She would remember this moment. This humiliation. This violation of everything that should have been private and sacred.

She would remember, and she would make him pay.

But for now, I sat in silence, holding the hand of another broken girl, while the scent of my shame filled the air and Kael's seed dried on my thighs.

For now, I endured.

But deep in my chest, something wild and fierce had awakened.

And it was hungry.