Veyra POVMy whole body aches. The connection to my wolf is thinning, and I know it’s because I keep refusing to mate. That, and the rejection is ripping us apart. I’ve accepted I’m dying. I’d rather go because of that than be killed by the Omegas or the trials.Call it stubbornness, I know it is, but I want to die my way. I’m not giving them the satisfaction of winning.Only that’s not looking likely now. The other women were laughing, mocking me as they walked off. I didn’t see it coming. One second I was alone, the next I was tackled and thrown into the pit. I can’t stay here, but every part of me hurts.If I bring my wolf forward, shifting will kill me. The strain will finish what the bond started. I have to get out on my own. I need to figure it out. Standing, my body sways and pain rips through me. The mark on my neck burns like fire. My wolf probably won’t help even if I asked.My choices are killing us, I know that.I push against the wall. It’s just mud. That’s going to make
Veyra POVI crawl to the pile of items and grab the meat, shoving it into my mouth without caring how it tastes. It won't save me. Even I know that. I thought I was ready to die, but now that it's closer, I'm not.It's not the pain, not the burning heat under my skin, not the way my body refuses to move. It's the thought of dying that scares me. I was ready. Now, I want to live. But living means asking one of the Alphas to knot me.My pride won't let me. But maybe... if one of them offers again, if they suggest it, if they give me even a fraction of an excuse... maybe then I can say yes. I can take what I need and go back to surviving this trial on my own terms.I can't move. My body's done. My wolf is slipping further away, curling back into herself, and the last of my strength is gone. I know I'm exposed. I'm lying out in the open. Anyone can see me. The scent of the other Omega's body is going to draw the rogues soon, maybe even a boar or another predator. Still, I can't do anythin
Veyra POVHe doesn’t move like I expect him to.There’s no wild snarl, no rip of fabric, no hands dragging me down into the dirt. Just a pause. A slow exhale. One of his hands brushes against my waist, then stills as if he’s giving me a chance to change my mind. When I don’t, his fingers drift toward the hem of my shirt, curling beneath it with deliberate care.The fabric is stiff with dried sweat and blood. It clings to me in places, but he’s patient, peeling it upward, inch by inch, until my stomach is bare. My skin prickles under the touch of air, but it’s his silence that unsettles me more.He’s not grinning or gloating. He’s looking at me like I’m something fragile. Something breakable.My voice is rough, wary. “You’re not doing this like a rogue.”He doesn’t answer. Just eases the shirt higher, over my ribs, past my bruised arms. I wince when he lifts it off my head, and his touch softens instantly, like he noticed. Like he cared. He folds the ruined shirt and sets it aside, as
Veyra POVSomething shifts in him.The careful movements give way to something deeper, firmer. Each thrust grows more deliberate, more insistent, like instinct is pulling him out of the restraint he's clung to. I feel it in the tension of his muscles, in the way his fingers press harder against my hips, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.I know I should be afraid. I know what rogues are... what they become when instinct takes over, but I don’t pull away.Instead, I arch into him.My breath comes faster, not from panic but from need, sharp and staggering. The pain that once consumed me has been replaced with something I didn’t expect. Pleasure. Rich and overwhelming, like it’s blooming through every nerve ending. My wolf leans into his without hesitation, drawn to the strength he’s offering, to the rare and careful way he’s giving it.He groans low in his chest as he sinks deeper, filling me completely with each thrust. The rhythm isn’t brutal, he never becomes careless,
Dagen POVShe’s barely holding on, but she still nods. Still gives me that final, broken little whisper of permission “Make it stop.”That’s all I need. I strip fast, my jaw tight, breath short, barely hanging on as my wolf surges beneath my skin. The scent of her is everywhere, sweet and wild and burning through me like a drug I can’t fight. It hits me the moment I pull my shirt over my head, the moment I shove my pants to the floor and crawl back onto the bed where she lies stretched out, weak and trembling, her legs already parted for me like she’s waiting for salvation.I grab her thighs, drag her down to the edge of the bed, and settle between them. My cock is painfully hard, slick already, throbbing with the pressure building in me. When I press the head against her entrance and feel her heat, slic
RAEL POVNo one’s happy about this. Not about Dagen fucking her. Not about him biting her. Not about the way he’s clinging to her like she’s the last thing keeping him breathing.And definitely not about what comes next.She’s delirious with pain. Driven purely by heat, desperation, and the instinct to survive. That doesn’t mean she wants this. That doesn’t mean she can consent to it. Her wolf is barely present. Her body is in agony. But Dagen’s right about one thing, if we don’t try, she dies. Then we're just monsters who watched her burn from the inside out.There’s a chance she dies anyway. Even if we agree, she could still die, th
Rael POVShe’s still limp in my arms, barely conscious, but she still moves with me. Still rises and falls with the rhythm of my hips. Her body knows what it needs, even if she can’t speak it clearly. I hold her steady, trying to stay in control, but I can already feel my restraint fraying.“Rael,” she whispers, so faint I almost miss it. Something about her voice has my wolf surging forward more, clinging onto her.I look down. Her eyes are open, barely, but she’s looking right at me.“Don’t speak,” I murmur. “Just breathe. Save your energy”Her fingers claw weakly at my chest. “Please. You have to claim me.”I go still.
Rael POVShe’s still limp in my arms, barely conscious, but she still moves with me. Still rises and falls with the rhythm of my hips. Her body knows what it needs, even if she can’t speak it clearly. I hold her steady, trying to stay in control, but I can already feel my restraint fraying.“Rael,” she whispers, so faint I almost miss it. Something about her voice has my wolf surging forward more, clinging onto her.I look down. Her eyes are open, barely, but she’s looking right at me.“Don’t speak,” I murmur. “Just breathe. Save your energy”Her fingers claw weakly at my chest. “Please. You have to claim me.”I go still.
RAEL POVNo one’s happy about this. Not about Dagen fucking her. Not about him biting her. Not about the way he’s clinging to her like she’s the last thing keeping him breathing.And definitely not about what comes next.She’s delirious with pain. Driven purely by heat, desperation, and the instinct to survive. That doesn’t mean she wants this. That doesn’t mean she can consent to it. Her wolf is barely present. Her body is in agony. But Dagen’s right about one thing, if we don’t try, she dies. Then we're just monsters who watched her burn from the inside out.There’s a chance she dies anyway. Even if we agree, she could still die, th
Dagen POVShe’s barely holding on, but she still nods. Still gives me that final, broken little whisper of permission “Make it stop.”That’s all I need. I strip fast, my jaw tight, breath short, barely hanging on as my wolf surges beneath my skin. The scent of her is everywhere, sweet and wild and burning through me like a drug I can’t fight. It hits me the moment I pull my shirt over my head, the moment I shove my pants to the floor and crawl back onto the bed where she lies stretched out, weak and trembling, her legs already parted for me like she’s waiting for salvation.I grab her thighs, drag her down to the edge of the bed, and settle between them. My cock is painfully hard, slick already, throbbing with the pressure building in me. When I press the head against her entrance and feel her heat, slic
Veyra POVSomething shifts in him.The careful movements give way to something deeper, firmer. Each thrust grows more deliberate, more insistent, like instinct is pulling him out of the restraint he's clung to. I feel it in the tension of his muscles, in the way his fingers press harder against my hips, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.I know I should be afraid. I know what rogues are... what they become when instinct takes over, but I don’t pull away.Instead, I arch into him.My breath comes faster, not from panic but from need, sharp and staggering. The pain that once consumed me has been replaced with something I didn’t expect. Pleasure. Rich and overwhelming, like it’s blooming through every nerve ending. My wolf leans into his without hesitation, drawn to the strength he’s offering, to the rare and careful way he’s giving it.He groans low in his chest as he sinks deeper, filling me completely with each thrust. The rhythm isn’t brutal, he never becomes careless,
Veyra POVHe doesn’t move like I expect him to.There’s no wild snarl, no rip of fabric, no hands dragging me down into the dirt. Just a pause. A slow exhale. One of his hands brushes against my waist, then stills as if he’s giving me a chance to change my mind. When I don’t, his fingers drift toward the hem of my shirt, curling beneath it with deliberate care.The fabric is stiff with dried sweat and blood. It clings to me in places, but he’s patient, peeling it upward, inch by inch, until my stomach is bare. My skin prickles under the touch of air, but it’s his silence that unsettles me more.He’s not grinning or gloating. He’s looking at me like I’m something fragile. Something breakable.My voice is rough, wary. “You’re not doing this like a rogue.”He doesn’t answer. Just eases the shirt higher, over my ribs, past my bruised arms. I wince when he lifts it off my head, and his touch softens instantly, like he noticed. Like he cared. He folds the ruined shirt and sets it aside, as
Veyra POVI crawl to the pile of items and grab the meat, shoving it into my mouth without caring how it tastes. It won't save me. Even I know that. I thought I was ready to die, but now that it's closer, I'm not.It's not the pain, not the burning heat under my skin, not the way my body refuses to move. It's the thought of dying that scares me. I was ready. Now, I want to live. But living means asking one of the Alphas to knot me.My pride won't let me. But maybe... if one of them offers again, if they suggest it, if they give me even a fraction of an excuse... maybe then I can say yes. I can take what I need and go back to surviving this trial on my own terms.I can't move. My body's done. My wolf is slipping further away, curling back into herself, and the last of my strength is gone. I know I'm exposed. I'm lying out in the open. Anyone can see me. The scent of the other Omega's body is going to draw the rogues soon, maybe even a boar or another predator. Still, I can't do anythin
Veyra POVMy whole body aches. The connection to my wolf is thinning, and I know it’s because I keep refusing to mate. That, and the rejection is ripping us apart. I’ve accepted I’m dying. I’d rather go because of that than be killed by the Omegas or the trials.Call it stubbornness, I know it is, but I want to die my way. I’m not giving them the satisfaction of winning.Only that’s not looking likely now. The other women were laughing, mocking me as they walked off. I didn’t see it coming. One second I was alone, the next I was tackled and thrown into the pit. I can’t stay here, but every part of me hurts.If I bring my wolf forward, shifting will kill me. The strain will finish what the bond started. I have to get out on my own. I need to figure it out. Standing, my body sways and pain rips through me. The mark on my neck burns like fire. My wolf probably won’t help even if I asked.My choices are killing us, I know that.I push against the wall. It’s just mud. That’s going to make
Dagen POVWe stay silent as the cameras follow her. Veyra moves carefully, not with the desperation the others show, but with a slow, calculated pace. She stops suddenly near a patch of dense undergrowth, crouching low.The camera zooms in automatically, and we see it. A boar, rooting around a fallen log, oblivious to the danger creeping closer.“She’s hunting?” Rael mutters, disbelief threading his voice.“She doesn’t have a choice," Vane says quietly. "If she wants to survive, she has to eat."We watch as Veyra moves closer, almost invisible against the thick shadows of the trees. Her wolf is close to the surface, not fully shifting, but enough that her movements are sharper, faster. When she strikes, it is fast and brutal. One sharp thrust with the sharpened branch she carries, straight into the boar’s neck.It thrashes once, twice, then goes still.She wastes no time. Dragging the body back toward a cave, she cuts it open with quick, brutal efficiency, taking thin slices of meat.