You're my sinful little whore now, aren't you?

Clara's POV

In his chambers, the air hung heavy with the flickering glow of candlelight, casting elongated shadows that danced like specters across the cold stone walls. The room was a fortress of opulence and intimidation—velvet drapes in deep crimson, a massive canopy bed piled with silken sheets that whispered promises of both pleasure and torment, and the faint, ever-present scent of him: musk and pine, now laced with the sharp, metallic tang of blood from the violence downstairs. My body still trembled uncontrollably from the ordeal in the bedroom, the guard's foul, invasive touch lingering like a phantom on my skin. Bruises bloomed like dark, accusing flowers where his fingers had dug in, and the bite mark on my neck throbbed with a dull, insistent pain. Every inch of me felt raw, exposed, violated. And now, here I was, dragged into Taehyung's inner sanctum, the door locking behind us with a deliberate, ominous click that echoed like the sealing of a tomb.

He turned to me slowly, his movements predatory and graceful, like a wolf circling its wounded prey. His eyes, still tinged with that fading crimson glow from his earlier rage, raked over my body with unapologetic hunger. He assessed me not as a person, but as a possession—something to be claimed, broken, and remade in his image. The shirt he wore was splattered with Jax's blood, a stark reminder of the brutality he'd unleashed, and yet it only seemed to heighten the dark allure that radiated from him. My heart hammered wildly in my chest, a frantic rhythm that mixed lingering fear from the assault with a fresh wave of dread. How could I face this? After everything—the guard's hands on me, his breath hot and repulsive—Taehyung's "rescue" felt like jumping from one fire into another, far more consuming.

"Strip," he ordered, his voice rough and gravelly, still edged with the remnants of his fury. It wasn't a request; it was a command, infused with that alpha authority that made my knees buckle and my wolf instincts whimper in submission. His tone dripped with dominance, leaving no room for defiance.

I hesitated, my hands fisting in the tattered remnants of my torn skirt, the fabric hanging in pathetic shreds from the guard's assault. Tears pricked at my eyes again, hot and unwelcome, as memories flashed through my mind: Garrick's weight pinning me down, his slurred threats, the way he'd torn at my clothes like I was nothing. My voice cracked as I whispered, "Taehyung... please. Not tonight. Not after everything—" The words caught in my throat, choked by sobs I tried to swallow. I felt dirty, broken, and the last thing I wanted was more hands on me, even his. Especially his.

He closed the distance in two powerful strides, his presence towering and suffocating, filling the room until there was no air left for me. His hands found the gown's laces at my back, tugging them loose with deliberate, agonizing slowness. His fingers brushed my bare skin, sending unwanted shivers racing down my spine—electric, traitorous sparks that made my breath hitch despite the hatred boiling in my chest. "Especially after everything," he growled, his breath warm and intoxicating against my ear, stirring the loose strands of my hair. It carried the scent of his arousal, dark and primal. "You reek of him, Clara. His filthy stench clings to your skin like a curse. I need to erase it—scrub it away with my touch, my scent, my cock. Remind you who you truly belong to." His voice dipped lower, turning sinful and lustful, dripping with raw possession. "Hate me all you want, little mate—it only makes this sweeter. Your defiance... it fuels my fire. Makes me hard just thinking about breaking you."

The gown slipped from my shoulders with a soft whisper of silk, pooling at my feet and leaving me completely bare before him. Cold air kissed my exposed skin, raising goosebumps everywhere, and I crossed my arms over my chest instinctively, trying to shield myself from his devouring gaze. Shame burned hot in my cheeks, mingling with the residual terror from earlier. My nipples hardened under the chill—or was it his stare?—and I hated how my body responded, betraying me even now. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, pacing in the depths of my mind like a caged beast. Clara, fight him! she growled fiercely. He's no better than that drunken scum. Bite him, claw him, run from this monster! But I couldn't move, frozen under the weight of his eyes, which roamed my body like he owned every curve, every scar.

"I hate you," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury, but there was a hitch in it—a treacherous betrayal from my traitorous body. Heat pooled low in my belly, unbidden and unwelcome, sparked by the raw, animal power he exuded. How could this happen? After the assault, after the violation, my body still reacted to him like this?

Taehyung's lips curved into a wicked, predatory smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. He shed his bloodstained shirt with fluid, deliberate motion, revealing the chiseled planes of his chest—broad shoulders, defined abs rippling under scarred skin from battles long past. Each scar gleamed in the candlelight like badges of his brutality, his unyielding survival, and they only added to his forbidden allure. Veins stood out on his arms, pulsing with restrained power, and his pants tented obviously with his arousal. "Good," he murmured, stepping closer until his heat enveloped me completely, his bare chest inches from mine. I could feel the thrum of his heartbeat, fast and insistent. "Hate me while I make you scream my name, Clara. Show me that fire in your eyes—it only makes me want to fuck it out of you harder." His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and yanking my arms away from my chest, exposing me fully. "Look at you, trembling like a virgin. But we both know you're not. You're my sinful little whore now, aren't you?"

He pushed me toward the bed with ruthless force, his touch firm and unyielding, guiding—no, shoving—me with an insistence that brooked no argument. I stumbled back, the edge of the mattress hitting my calves, and I fell onto it heavily, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Emotions warred within me like a storm: fear, sharp and acrid, from the night's horrors still fresh; hatred, a searing blaze for the man who'd turned my life into this nightmare; and beneath it all, a treacherous lust, ignited by his dominance, his scent wrapping around me like chains. My wolf howled in confusion, her voice a desperate whirl. No! Don't give in—he's the enemy! But... his power... it's calling us. Mate. Claim. Submit.

"Lie down," he commanded, his voice a velvet rasp laced with steel, his eyes locked on mine as he loomed over me like a dark god. I complied slowly, reclining on the silk sheets that still carried the faint imprint of our earlier struggles—wrinkled from where I'd been dragged here. The fabric was cool against my heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire building inside me against my will. Taehyung followed, his weight dipping the mattress as he knelt between my legs, forcing them apart with his knees. His hands trailed up my thighs with agonizing slowness, fingers digging in just enough to bruise, marking me anew. "Spread wider for me, Clara. Show me that pretty pussy that's mine to ruin."

"Taehyung, stop," I begged, my voice breaking as his fingers danced higher, brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, inching toward my core. But even as I pleaded, my body arched slightly, hips shifting involuntarily, seeking more contact. Tears slipped down my cheeks—tears of frustration, of inner conflict. How could I want this? After what Garrick had tried, after the terror? "Please... I'm still scared. I can't—"

He leaned down, his lips brushing my collarbone in a feather-light kiss that made me gasp, but then he bit down—hard—drawing a sharp cry from me as pain bloomed alongside pleasure. "Scared? Good. Fear makes you wetter, doesn't it?" His mouth trailed lower, nipping at the swell of my breast, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin, swirling around my nipple before sucking it into his mouth with ruthless suction. "Feel that, Clara? Your body betraying you already. Your nipples hard as diamonds, begging for my teeth." He grazed them with his fangs, just enough to sting, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to my core. His voice turned filthy, lustful, as he whispered against my flesh. "You're dripping for me, aren't you? So sinful, so eager for your alpha's cock to stretch you wide."