Chapter 4: The Traitor In My Bed

ROY.

I came hard across the sheets with Nyx’s face burned behind my eyelids.

Her name left my mouth in a broken growl as the last pulse left me. My cock twitched in my fist, still half-hard, still aching, because finishing hadn’t done a damn thing to quiet the need. She had been right earlier. I desperately wanted to fuck her.

How the fuck was I supposed to not want her when she had walked downstairs in that scrap of a skirt and a net top that showed every hard point of her nipples?

I sat on the edge of the mattress for a long minute, breathing hard, staring at the mess I had made. My wolf paced under my skin, unsatisfied, restless, furious that I had sent her away instead of taking what she had offered.

I dragged a hand down my face, then stood and walked into the bathroom. Hot water over my hands and my cock did nothing to wash the need off. I scrubbed until my skin was red and still felt dirty.

When I came back out I pulled on a clean pair of shorts and went to check on her.

Her bedroom door was open and the bed was empty. The net top she had been wearing earlier was nowhere in sight.

“Nyx?” I called out but there was no response.

I checked the bathroom, it was empty. The closet, still empty. I moved through the second floor, then the first, then the training wing, then the garage.

Every room came up the same. She was gone. The front door was unlocked. Her scent trail led straight out into the night.

My chest tightened. Something pulled low and hard behind my sternum—an unfamiliar tug that felt older than thought. My wolf surged forward, ears pricked, growling.

Trouble.

She was in trouble. I didn’t question how I knew, I just followed.

The trail led downtown and ended at a mid-range hotel with a red vacancy sign. She was on the second floor. Her scent was thick there, mixed with whiskey and a male who had no business putting his hands on her.

I put my shoulder into the door and ripped it clean off the hinges. The door hit the floor inside the room with a heavy crash.

The scene in front of me stopped everything cold.

A dark-haired man stood between Nyx’s spread thighs, jeans open, cock out, condom already rolled on. She lay on her back in the middle of the cheap bed, skirt shoved up, eyes glassy and half-lidded, mouth slack. She looked drunk enough that she might not even remember her own name.

“Leave,” I said. The word came out low and final. “Now.”

The man went white. He scrambled backward so fast he almost tripped over his own feet, yanking his jeans up as he went. The stink of fear rolled off him in waves. He didn’t say a single word. He just ran past me into the hallway and kept running until I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore.

I crossed the room in two strides and reached for her.

“Get off me,” Nyx mumbled, trying to push at my chest with clumsy hands. Her voice was thick. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me.”

“I’m taking you home,” I said, trying to get the blanket around her.

She shoved harder, eyes suddenly sharper despite the alcohol. “I said get off.” Then her fingers twisted in the front of my shirt and pulled instead of pushed. “Unless you’re finally going to stop pretending. I want you. I’ve wanted you for years. You know that.”

My cock, already half-hard from the leftover adrenaline and the sight of her spread out, throbbed so hard it hurt. I should have picked her up and walked out. I should have put her in the passenger seat and driven her back to the mansion and locked the fucking door.

Instead I stayed right there, braced over her, breathing in the mix of whiskey and her own sweet scent.

“You’re drunk,” I said.

“I know what I want,” she answered, and pulled my mouth down to hers.

The kiss was messy and desperate. Her legs came up around my hips. My wolf howled in approval. I kissed her back harder, teeth scraping, tongue claiming. My hand shoved the skirt higher. She was already wet, slick against my fingers when I dragged them between her legs. She moaned into my mouth and rolled her hips like she was trying to fuck herself on my hand.

I pulled back just long enough to shove my shorts down. My cock sprang free, heavy and already leaking. I didn’t bother with a condom. I didn’t give either of us time to think. I notched the head against her pussy and pushed in with one long, relentless thrust.

She was tight, so fucking tight it punched the air out of my lungs. Her cunt fluttered and clenched around me like it was trying to keep me out and pull me deeper at the same time. She cried out, head tipping back, nails digging into my shoulders. “Fuck—Roy—”

I gave her two seconds to adjust. Then I started moving.

The cheap bed slammed against the wall with every thrust. I gripped her thighs and spread them wider, watching the way my cock disappeared inside her, shiny with her wetness. She took it all, every inch. Her tits bounced under the rucked-up net top. Her mouth stayed open on broken sounds that went straight to my spine.

“This what you wanted?” I growled against her ear, hips snapping harder. “You wanted me to ruin you? You’re getting it.”

She nodded frantically, legs locking around my waist. “Yes—don’t stop—please—”

I didn’t stop. I fucked her like I had been starving for it for years, because I had. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. Her cunt gripped me so perfectly I had to clench my jaw to keep from finishing too soon. I reached between us and rubbed her clit with my thumb. She came with a broken cry, pulsing around my cock hard enough that I almost followed her.

I held off, dragged it out, kept thrusting through the aftershocks until she was shaking and oversensitive and still begging for more.

I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and sank back in from behind. The new angle let me go even deeper. She moaned into the pillow. I braced one hand on the headboard and used the other to hold her still while I fucked her with everything I had left. The bond—whatever the fuck that pull in my chest was—sang with every stroke. My wolf was half-feral with satisfaction.

I came with a snarl, buried as deep as I could get, flooding her pussy in thick pulses. She clenched around me again like her body was trying to keep every drop. I stayed there for a long minute, breathing hard, forehead pressed to her shoulder, cock still twitching inside her.

Eventually I pulled out. She made a small sound of loss and I collapsed onto the mattress beside her. The sheets were a wreck, and so were we.

Morning light cut through the thin hotel curtains.

I woke first. Nyx was still asleep on her stomach, one leg hooked over mine, hair a mess across the pillow.

My chest ached with a regret so heavy it made it hard to breathe. I had fucked my best friend’s daughter. I had taken her virginity in a cheap hotel after finding her about to be used by a stranger.

I had no defense.

I sat up carefully, trying not to wake her, and reached for my phone on the nightstand. Three missed calls from Damon. I stepped into the small bathroom, closed the door halfway, and called him back.

He answered on the first ring.

“Roy. Thank fuck. Where are you?”

“Doesn’t matter. What’s going on?”

There was a short pause. When Damon spoke again his voice was grim.

“Darius is dead, there was an attack on the Veyra estate last night. It’s bad. And Roy… the intel we pulled says Nyx was the one who sold the pack out. She leaked the border routes. Everything points to her.”

I went completely still, phone pressed to my ear, staring at nothing.

Behind me, through the half-open door, I could still hear Nyx breathing softly in the bed we had wrecked.

The words settled into my chest like ice.

Darius, Nyx's father was dead.

And the girl I had just ruined—his daughter —was being named as the reason.