Chapter 7

Draven's POV

Allene’s lips crashed over mine again, feverish and unrelenting. In a kiss I couldn’t break free from even if every fractured piece of my soul screamed to try.

The first time she’d started, I’d scraped together every shred of restraint left in me, forcing my hands to push at her shoulders, my voice to rasp her name like a warning. I’d almost succeeded.

This shouldn’t even be an issue. Allen and I could never be together.

She was my cousin’s mate. Infinitely worse, the daughter of my late best friend, the girl I’d sworn to protect like my own blood after the funeral pyres burned out. The daughter of the man whose death still carved hollows in my chest every full moon.

I tried to hold the line. I tried even as the thick, insistent bulge between my legs throbbed harder and impossible to ignore. My body betrayed me with every hammering heartbeat.

But my wolf roared inside my skull now, clawing at the cage of my ribs. He wanted her. And flooded my veins with a heat I hadn’t felt since the mate-bond snapped and left me bleeding on the forest floor decades ago. He wanted to rip control away, to claim, take and for the first time in forever he felt truly alive and wild.

No. This was absurd. I snarled the word inside my own mind. I couldn’t fall for it.

This wasn’t the first time Allene had come to me like this. Distressed and desperate, eyes glassy with tears or something dark. I’d fallen for her tricks more than three times before. Each time she’d humiliated me so thoroughly that Leonard had summoned me before the alpha council, forcing me to stand there while they dissected my honor like fresh kill.

And now here she was again, claiming she’d rejected him, that the fading mate-mark on her neck meant nothing while Leonard and his warriors had hunted her across three territories like she was a rogue.

I knew I was missing something vital. Leonard’s rage when he discovered she’d crossed into my lands had been too personal to be theater. Yet I still couldn’t force myself to believe her.

I was balanced on a razor’s edge, praying the storm inside me would quiet before she noticed how badly I was fraying.

Then she kissed me a second time.

And every wall I’d rebuilt crumbled.

Her fingers moved with devastating purpose. She slid off my thighs, stood and unbuttoned me.

 The fabric pooled at my ankles. I didn’t stop her. Didn’t even reach to pull them back up. I just watched, numb and burning as she stripped me bare.

My black briefs clung to me, outlining every thick inch I had.

My cock sprang free, flushed dark with blood, already leaking at the tip. I stared at it like it belonged to someone else.

I knew exactly what was coming. And gods help me, I couldn’t summon the will to stop it.

“What is wrong with you, Draven?” I whispered to myself, the words barely audible. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I’d had women since losing my mate. None of them had ever breached the iron cage I’d locked around my desire. I’d disciplined and starved myself. Turned away from every soft touch and heated glance. I’d mastered restraint in front of packs, councils and enemies.

So how was I unraveling now? And for her of all people?

How could my body be this taut and desperate, this hard and just for her?

She wrapped her hand around my shaft. The heat of her palm seared me. My cock jerked, thickening impossibly more under her grip. A low, involuntary growl vibrated in my throat.

She leaned closer, studying me, wide-eyed and almost reverent, as though she’d never seen a man before.

That made no sense as Leonard was infamous. A notorious womanizer whose size, stamina and bedroom prowess were whispered about in every pack from here to the northern ranges. If she truly had been his mate, how could she look at me like this? Like I was something new and overwhelming.

I should push her away.

I should roar. Shift and run until the cold air burned the lust from my lungs.

Instead I was frozen, my heart slamming, wolf howling, cock throbbing in her hand while every lonely and starving part of me waited to see what she would do next.

When she finally took my soft, warm head into her mouth, a low groan slipped out before I could cage it. I hated how much I wanted her to hear it, hated that her mouth was already unraveling me.

My cock swelled against her tongue, thickening with every slow suck and deliberate swirl of hers. She worked me like she’d memorized the shape of my need.

After long, torturous minutes she let me slip free with a wet sound that echoed in the throne room. Her eyes lifted, searching my face as though one merciful word from me could rewrite everything that had brought her here on shaking legs.

“What do you want, Allene?” My voice came out rougher than I intended.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead she leaned in again, lips parting, chasing the heavy length that still throbbed between us.

“You, Draven. I want you,” she breathed against my skin.

I should have demanded clarity. Should have shoved her back and demanded the truth behind those four dangerous words. But then her mouth closed around me once more and thought dissolved.

She swirled the head lazily, pressed the flat of her tongue against the sensitive slit, then sucked hard while her small hand stroked the shaft in counterpoint.

“Oh, fuck.” The curse tore out of me as my hips jerked forward, driving four thick inches to the back of her throat.

Shame burned in my chest even as pleasure roared louder. I was supposed to be the one in control, but yet here I was, helpless against the wet heat of her mouth, against the way she took me deeper like it was the only prayer she still believed in.

Her tongue wrapped around me. She bobbed, lips sealed tight, sliding along every silky inch while the ridges of my cock dragged against the soft inner walls of her cheeks. She twisted her head on each upstroke, increasing the friction until I felt every devastating detail of her mouth like a brand.

“Allene…” My voice cracked on her name again, half plea, half curse.

That single whisper seemed to set her on fire. She redoubled her efforts, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth, dripping in glistening threads onto the stone floor.

Then, between one slick glide and the next, she pulled back just enough to whisper against my pulsing length:

“Get mated to me, Draven. Let me help you have your revenge on SilverFang pack.”

The words hit like a blade. The wolf inside me howled in savage agreement even as my mind recoiled.

I wanted to snarl a refusal. Wanted to shove her away. But the pleasure was a living thing, refusing to let me think.

Instead I bent forward, captured one lace-covered breast in my mouth and sucked hard. My tongue flicked ruthlessly over the peaked nipple beneath. A broken moan vibrated through her and her fingers dug into my shoulders like she was afraid I’d vanish.

This didn’t feel calculated. If Leonard had sent her to trap me, his enforcers would already be hammering at the doors. If he’d sensed the bond fracturing through their mate-link, he’d have dragged her name before the council by now. Yet the halls stayed silent.

She hadn’t lied.

Emboldened by that dangerous realization, I reached behind her, fingers finding the torn clasp of her bra. One sharp tug and the ruined lace fell away. Her breasts spilled free tk reveal a young and perfectly pert, nipples already tight and flushed from my earlier attention.

I fell on them like a starving man. Kissing and licking. Sucking until she trembled and arched, little sobs of pleasure breaking from her throat.

Still worshipping her breasts with my mouth, I eased down to my knees between her thighs. I nudged her legs apart gently at first, then more firmly when she didn’t resist. My palms glided up the outsides of her thighs, then the tender insides. She quivered violently at every touch, unconsciously scooting forward and offering herself.

My heart slammed against my ribs as my fingers slipped beneath the hem of her dress. Higher until I reached damp lace. I pressed, rubbed and felt the heat and wetness seeping through. Her hips rolled, chasing my hand.

I hooked the fabric aside and a growl rumbled low in my throat.

I leaned in and inhaled, filling my lungs with the raw, intoxicating scent of her arousal. Then I licked her once more.

She tasted like sin and spring rain.

I circled her swollen clit, sucked gently. Her hips bucked hard and suddenly, a sharp yelp melted into a long, shuddering moan.

One finger traced her entrance, teasing and testing, then slid inside to the first knuckle and the second. She gasped, walls fluttering around the invasion, but she didn’t pull away.

I crooked my finger and found the perfect ridge inside her, and rubbed in slow, deliberate strokes while my tongue lashed her clit.

Her breathing turned ragged. I added a second finger, stretching and fucking into her with steady thrusts that matched the rhythm of my mouth.

She was drenched. My hand glistened with her. Her ass lifted off the chair, grinding shamelessly against my face and fingers.