Chapter 6

♠SYLVARA♠

My hand trembled, clammy against the metal. The fork felt heavier than a weapon should.

“Arghhh!” His grunt tore through the air as I yanked it free, blood oozing hot and thick from his chest. For a second, I froze. My lungs locked. My brain went blank.

I had stabbed him.

Darius Ashfang. The Devil himself.

And yet he laughed.

“You almost had me,” he rasped, blood trailing down his chest.

“You think silver will save you?” he rasped, his breath hot against my ear. His grip tightened, claws digging deeper. “Little wolf… you’ve only made me hungry.”

The fork slipped from my hand, clattering on the floor as reality hit me. Blood. Real blood. My stomach flipped, and I staggered back, horror crashing through me. I stabbed him. I really stabbed him.

Even though I loathed him, seeing that wound made me falter. I thought I’d feel triumph. Instead, I felt… lost. That was my first time drawing blood. And it was him.

“I told you… I’d kill you,” I managed, but my voice shook so badly the words barely held weight.

Darius tilted his head, eyes dark with amusement. “Then why are you panicking, hm? Cute.” His smirk widened, wicked and terrifying.

He’s insane.

Why was he still standing? Why wasn’t he writhing in pain? I had aimed for his chest shouldn’t he be gasping, begging, dying? Had I missed the mark? Textbook diagrams for werewolves were useless against Alpha like him.

“You’re trembling, little wolf,” he mocked, stepping closer. His hand clamped my arm, dragging me against him. “You stabbed me… and you’re the one afraid. Don’t tell me—it was your first time? Is your wolf that weak?”

I could smell the copper tang of his blood, sharp and intoxicating. A droplet fell, hot, splashing on my skin—rolling down my breast. I shivered violently.

“You want to kill me,” he murmured, pressing me harder into his chest, “but you can’t even look at what you’ve done.”

“I—” My throat closed, my pride choking me.

Darius’s lips curved cruelly. “You’ve got a long way to go, little wolf. But don’t worry.” His voice dropped to a whisper that scraped down my spine. “I’ll teach you.”

That gaze was dark, and merciless, telling me nothing good would come next. My heart slammed against my ribs as I lunged for the fork again, desperate.

But Darius was faster. He caught me easily, pinning me onto the cold table.

And then he whispered the words that froze me more than the pain.

“Bold,” he rasped, gripping the fork still lodged in his flesh. “But clumsy.”

“Don’t rush,” he breathed against my ear, his hand sliding down my throat. “Lesson one starts now.”

“Darius, let me go!” I thrashed, but he overpowered me with insulting ease, his bloodied palm smearing crimson against my skin.

“Let you go? This is just the beginning little wolf. At least I am not letting you go until I teach you a good lesson for this.” he mumbled, as he used his hand to rub the wound, staining his palm.

I looked away, trying to avoid the sight of the wound, but what he did next made me turn towards him. I could feel his fingers playing on my cl*t. “Dar—” I moaned as I couldn't finish my words as he continued teasing pussy, I couldn't fight against him because my hands were held down with just his one hand.

“It’s thirsty for blood,” he murmured darkly, watching me squirm. “And so are you.”

“I hate you!” I spat, though my traitorous body betrayed me with every shiver, every breathless sound I bit back.

“You hate me?” His laugh was husky, dangerous. “Good. Hate makes the fire burn hotter.”

“I will kill you Darius!” I screamed angrily, realizing that I wasn't supposed to succumb to that murderer touch. 

“You are free to do that, but that will be after you scream for more of me inside you.” 

“Asshole—” The word tore out of me just before his mouth crashed down on my breast, hard, teeth scraping over sensitive flesh. I gasped, back arching against him, shame scorching every nerve.

The pain was sharp, deliberate. But worse was the way my body responded, the way my nipples tightened, the way my thighs clenched. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me break.

He didn’t ask. He didn’t wait. He claimed. Marking me like prey. Like his.

When he finally pulled away, air stung the bruised skin he left behind. My chest heaved, each breath ragged and furious.

“Is this revenge for your wound?” I rasped, trying to mask the tremor in my voice.

“Revenge?” He smirked, licking the mark he’d left. “No, little wolf. Just a punishment.”

“This won’t break me!” I shouted, shoving weakly against him. “Motherfucker!”

He pinned me again, his breath hot against my ear. “We’ll see how long that defiance lasts. Because you will beg. Not for mercy…” His lips ghosted my throat. “…but for more.”

“You’re nothing but a murderer.” My spit hit his cheek, my last act of defiance.

His eyes flared, wolfish, unhinged. “Don’t act stro—”

A sharp knock rattled the door.

“Boss!” one of his men called, voice urgent.

Darius stilled, his body heavy against mine, his breath ragged. For the first time, something flickered in his expression, annoyance. Danger.

The door creaked, just slightly.

And in that split second, I realized—whatever waited outside was worse than him.