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Her fucking voice.

Penulis: Ava
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-07 23:09:48

Damian's POV

The first tendrils of dawn, pale and unforgiving, pierced through the towering windows of the penthouse, doing little to dispel the glacial grip of the night within me. I remained a fixture in the shattered landscape of the bar, a monument to a night consumed by a potent cocktail of whiskey and raw, unadulterated fury. Empty bottles, like fallen soldiers, lay scattered around me, their fractured reflections mirroring the fragments of my own composure. My shirt, a rumpled, whiskey-stained testament to my descent, clung to me uncomfortably. A dull, persistent ache throbbed behind my jaw, a constant reminder of the hours spent clenching it, while my head pulsed with a relentless rhythm, a symphony of self-inflicted pain.

Sleep had been a distant, unattainable luxury. Not a single moment of oblivion had graced me. The beast within, the wolf that usually roamed wild and snarling, had undergone a chilling metamorphosis. It was no longer a rabid animal, but something far mo
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    Damian’s POV The cuffs rattled again, a jarring symphony of steel and desperation, as she pulled instinctively against them, a fragile bird thrashing against its gilded cage. Her breath came in short, panicked bursts beneath me, ragged gasps that tore at the silence of the room. Her eyes—wide, wild, glassy with unshed tears and a primal, unadulterated terror—darted frantically between my face, a mask of unyielding intent, and the gleaming chain that stretched taut above her head, as though even now, in this absolute moment of capture, she was still searching for an escape route, a sliver of hope. There wasn’t one. Not anymore. There never truly had been. I dragged my fingers down her bare ribs, feeling the delicate tremble of her flesh beneath my touch, leaving faint, red lines in their wake—a temporary brand, a precursor to the deeper marks I intended to leave. I savored the way her entire body shivered, a tremor that rippled through her, signaling her unwilling submission. “You

  • Contract Marriage To The Alpha King    You wanted to test me, little wolf?

    Damian’s POV Her silence when I told her to undress was deafening, a stark contrast to the furious roar of my own blood in my ears. It wasn't the silence of defiance, not truly, but a fragile, terrified stillness. Her hands, though trembling visibly, moved slowly, reluctantly, to the delicate buttons of her blouse. One by one, each button released felt like a small, agonizing victory, a concession wrung from her unwilling spirit. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not nearly. Her defiance still lingered in the air, a subtle, almost imperceptible scent that mingled with her fear. Even as she stood there, stripped down to nothing but her thin lace underthings—a delicate, almost transparent barrier against my gaze—her eyes were still bright with unshed tears, glistening like polished stones. And in their depths, I could still discern it: that little spark of rebellion, that infuriating unwillingness to fully submit, to truly break. It infuriated me. A hot, sharp surge of rage that clawed at

  • Contract Marriage To The Alpha King    Take your clothes off, Ava!

    Damian's POV “You needed air,” I repeated mockingly, my voice laced with venom, my hand shooting out to grip her chin hard, forcing her face up, tilting it brutally to meet my gaze. “Or you needed another man to breathe for you, to tell you you weren’t mine, to offer you a false freedom?” Tears welled in her eyes, glistening, spilling over and tracing paths down her pale cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Her gaze, though brimming with terror, held a stubborn defiance, a spark of the wild wolf within her. I hated her for it—hated the resistance, hated the tears, hated the fact that she could still feel something other than submission. And yet, I admired her for it, for that infuriating, persistent spark that made her a challenge, not just a conquest. It was a dangerous, contradictory pull that always seemed to complicate my emotions when it came to her. My thumb brushed roughly over her lower lip, savoring the subtle tremor, before I finally let her go, releasing her chin with

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    Damian’s POV I stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, my gaze locked on her retreating form. Each slow, deliberate step she took, her hand gripping the polished banister so tightly her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff with forced composure, did nothing to calm the raw, visceral storm that churned inside me. If anything, her pathetic show of resistance only fueled it, igniting a deeper, more primal rage. My jaw clenched so tight it ached, a dull, persistent throb. My knuckles still pulsed beneath the hastily applied bandage Ava had wrapped around them earlier—too tight at first, then trembling, hesitant, as she tried to fix the damage I had wrought. The rough, masculine scent of the office, tainted with the faint, metallic tang of James’s blood, still clung to my skin, a constant reminder of my unchecked fury. I hadn’t even bothered to bandage them properly after slamming that sniveling coward into the floor, hearing the sickening crunch of his jaw snapping under my

  • Contract Marriage To The Alpha King    Don’t make me say it twice.”

    Ava's POVI froze, my feet rooted to the spot, a sudden paralysis seizing me. Every instinct screamed at me to turn and run, to disappear into the labyrinth of the city. “Now, Ava.” His voice was sharper this time, a cold, hard command that cut through my paralysis. My fingers curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms, as I forced myself forward, one heavy step after another. Sliding into the cool, silent leather seat felt like stepping into a cage, the latch clicking shut behind me with a sickening finality. I was trapped. Again. Oliver didn’t speak as the door shut, plunging the interior into a suffocating gloom, and the SUV lurched back into motion, smoothly accelerating through the city streets. The silence that filled the car was worse than any shouted words could’ve been, thick with unspoken knowledge, with his unspoken wrath. Oliver’s face in the rearview mirror was a grim, unreadable mask. I didn’t dare look at him. I didn’t dare ask if he’d seen what Damian lo

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