To kill a traitor you like

Soren’s POV

Veyron dragged me through the pack mansion, his grip bruising my wrist. He did not care that our family watched. He did not care that they saw me humiliated, stumbling after him like a condemned man. The news had already spread. I could feel their disgust as they stood in doorways and at the top of stairs, their whispers dying as we passed. Not even my father looked at me. They averted their eyes as if I were shame itself, as if I were already dead.

The bedroom door shut with a finality that made my stomach drop. My back hit the floor before I could brace for it, Veyron’s violent shove sending me sprawling across the hardwood.

“Strip.”

One word. His eyes burned. His jaw clenched.

I rose to my feet, ignoring the sour pain in my abdomen from the beating I had taken earlier. The shirt came off first. My hands hesitated at my pants, but when I lifted my eyes for a split second, those dark orbs were staring at me with an intensity that wanted to melt my skin. I complied.

Shirt off. Pants off. Only my briefs remained.

His gaze never left me. It tracked every movement, every shiver. I rubbed my arms, feeling the heat of shame crawl up my neck. Being stripped naked reminded me of punishments during warrior training, when our commander would hose us down with freezing water until our teeth chattered. I would choose that now. I would choose anything over this.

Veyron tilted his head. His eyes flickered gold as his wolf briefly surfaced. His tongue slid across his lips like a snake tasting the air, and the gesture sent a violent shiver down my spine.

“Would you look at that,” Zek’s voice rang out, deeper than Veyron’s, resonating from somewhere primal and ancient. He was Veyron’s wolf, terrifying and unchecked. “Our dear cousin has grown so… much.”

The final word hung between us, heavy with meaning. He held my gaze, unblinking. “Want to see how much I’ve grown?”

He flashed a toothy grin that belonged to something demonic, something ready to pounce. Subconsciously, I stepped back. He rose from the bed, and almost immediately, the pheromones he had been suppressing exploded through the room. My knees buckled. It smelled like blood mixed with strong spices and vanilla, a strange mix that had always drawn me to him while others cowered and claimed he reeked of death.

 I had always thought he smelled nice. But right now, with that scent flooding my lungs, I couldn’t say so. Right now, I was fearing for my life.

He began to tear at his clothes. Not remove them. Tear them. His jacket ripped. His shirt shredded. He moved like a man who had lost his mind.

“Veyron?” My voice trembled. “Please. Come back.”

He paused. His hand rose to wipe the drool from the corner of his lips. He looked at me then, deep into my eyes, and the humanity there was gone. “Say that again,” he whispered. “I dare you.”

His voice was cold. The room grew chilly despite the summer heat, despite the air conditioning being off.

My legs trembled as I stepped back. He advanced, matching me step for step. “Say that again, Soren. Say. It. Again.”

“Veyron, please…” Tears slid down my face, hot and humiliating. “I can’t take Zek today. Please. Come back.”

His head dropped. His shoulders, tense and coiled with violence, loosened. Relief flooded my chest, brief and intoxicating. Veyron had taken control back. Veyron would stop this.

But when he raised his head, the relief curdled in my throat. A sinister smile spread across his face, too wide, too knowing.

“‘Veyron, come back,’” he mocked, pitching his voice high and pathetic. “Veyron. Veyron.” He looked around the room as if searching for someone, then stopped abruptly. I blinked, and he was standing right in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Veyron isn’t going to save you today, Soren.”

“You agreed to this, didn’t you?” He stroked my hair, and every hair on my body stood on end. I held my breath, frozen.

“Zek…”

“Ooh?” He paused, those sinister eyes meeting mine. “So you do remember my name. Yet all you’ve yelled is Veyron this, Veyron that. But Veyron doesn’t want to see you.” He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “Veyron wants to kill you. While I…” He chuckled, the sound vibrating through my ribs. “I want to fuck you until your last breath.”

His hand tightened around my neck. “Six months?” He laughed, the sound joyless and wild. “More like six hours.”

With the last strength I possessed, I forced the words out. “Veyron, please… Zek will kill me. Please don’t do this.”

I should not have said it.

In the next second, my face twisted to the side with such force I thought my neck would snap. Zek’s hand connected with my cheek, a brutal crack that echoed off the walls. Before I could recover, before the stars could clear from my vision, he slapped me again.

“You want Veyron to save you?” he roared, his incisors baring, lengthening into fangs. “No one will save  you. No one saves traitors.”

He grabbed my throat and flung me onto the bed. I bounced against the mattress, gasping, as he tore at his own pants and briefs. My eyes widened at the sight of him, monstrous and veined and pulsing.  It was inhuman. It was terrifying.

I scrambled back on the bed, crawling away on my elbows, but he caught my ankles and dragged me toward him like prey. He crawled over me, an animal poised to strike, and pulled me close until his length rested heavy against my stomach, near my chest.

He tore my briefs off in one violent motion.

My tears poured freely now. My lip was bleeding, coppery and warm. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate to escape. I was breathing too hard, too fast, the edges of my vision going gray.

“Zek,” I whispered. “I’m scared.”

Time stopped.

He froze above me, muscles locked, breath halted. Then his fist crashed through the bedframe near my head, splintering wood inches from my skull. His eyes, which had burned gold, switched to black. He was panting, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his temples.

His jaw clenched, and I felt the hard, threatening weight against my stomach shrink, receding to something merely human. Still large. Still intimidating. But manageable. Survivable.

My chest dropped in relief, a sob escaping my throat. Veyron stared down at me, his expression unreadable.

“Zek doesn’t spare traitors,” he said, his voice rough and raw. “No matter the deal we make. But he decided to let me take control. To save you from his wrath.” He chuckled bitterly . “I guess we still like you. Even though you want nothing but to see us dead.”

He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the strands until his knuckles went white. “I want to hate you enough to kill you, dear cousin. I want to feel nothing when I think of your name. But here I am, harder than I’ve been in years, because I want to fuck you more than I want to kill you.”

I stared up at him, my eyes welling with tears I could not stop. Why did my chest feel so heavy seeing him like this? I had trained myself to hate him, to want him dead. Yet in this moment, with his control hanging by a thread and my body bruised beneath him, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to make this better, to erase the damage I had done, to return to some time before we became enemies.

But the silence stretched between us, heavy with everything we could not say, and I lay there trembling, waiting to see which version of him would take me.