Chapter Two "The Mark and the Promise"

The lock clicked. The sound sat in my chest like a stone.

He didn’t move right away. Just stood there, shirt half open, watching me breathe too fast in the middle of his room. Firelight cut across the hard lines of his chest. Black hair fell into eyes that still glowed faint gold. The scent of him filled the space—leather, smoke, and that darker heat that made my thighs press together without thinking.

“Clothes off.”

My hands shook. I pulled what was left of the torn shirt off my shoulders. It dropped. Cool air hit my bare breasts. My nipples were already tight. I shoved the shorts down next. They stuck to the wet mess between my legs before they hit the floor. I stood naked under his stare.

He walked a slow circle around me. Boots heavy on the wood. Every step made the bond pull tighter under my skin. My wolf wanted to bare her throat. I hated her for it.

He stopped behind me. One hand landed on my hip. Rough palm. Callused fingers. He dragged it up my side, over my ribs, then closed around my breast from behind. Squeezed hard enough that a small sound left my throat.

“You feel that?” His mouth was close to my ear. “Your body already knows the rules.”

I tried to step forward. His other arm locked around my waist and yanked me back against him. The thick ridge of his cock pressed into the curve of my ass through his pants. Hard. Heavy. I felt the heat of it even through the fabric.

“My sister,” I said. Voice rough. “She’s still with the old pack. If you—”

“I know exactly where she is.” His fingers pinched my nipple. Sharp. “One word from me and the border patrols find her. They won’t be gentle.”

My stomach turned cold. He felt the tremor that ran through me and laughed under his breath.

“Good. You’re listening.”

He spun me around. Both hands gripped my waist and lifted me like I weighed nothing. My back hit the wall. Hard. His body pinned me there, chest to chest, thighs forcing mine open. I felt every button of his open shirt scrape my skin. His cock ground against my bare stomach, still trapped in his pants, thick enough that the pressure made my breath catch.

“You run, she pays.” His voice stayed low. Almost calm. “You fight me in front of the pack, she pays. You refuse my cock when I want it—” He rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate. “She pays.”

I shoved at his shoulders. He didn’t move. Just caught both my wrists in one hand and pinned them above my head against the wall. The other hand slid down between us. Two fingers pushed straight into me. No warning. The stretch burned. I was still soaked from the forest and the sudden intrusion dragged a broken sound out of my throat.

He worked them deeper. Curled. Stroked that same spot that made my knees weaken. Wet sounds filled the quiet room. My hips tried to twist away. His body kept me trapped.

“Feel that?” he muttered against my mouth. “You’re dripping down my hand and still pretending you don’t want it.”

“I don’t—”

His mouth covered mine. Not a kiss. A claim. Teeth scraped my lower lip. Tongue pushed in. I tasted smoke and heat and him. The bond flared hot under my skin. My walls clenched around his fingers. A traitor pulse of pleasure rolled through my stomach.

He pulled back just enough to speak.

“Lie again and I’ll make you watch what happens to her.”

My chest heaved. His fingers kept moving inside me—slow, deep, ruthless. Every stroke forced more slick down my thighs. My nipples scraped against his bare chest with every breath. The room smelled of sex and woodsmoke and the heavy musk of an alpha who already owned the air I was breathing.

He dragged his fingers out. They shone in the firelight. He wiped them across my bare stomach, leaving wet streaks.

Then he stepped back.

Just far enough that the cold air hit the empty space between my legs. I stayed pinned against the wall by the look in his eyes alone.

He unbuckled his belt. The sound was loud. Metal. Leather. He pulled it free in one long slide and dropped it on the floor. His pants followed. The thick length of him sprang free—heavy, flushed, already leaking at the tip. My mouth went dry. My pulse hammered low and deep between my thighs.

He wrapped a hand around himself once. Slow. Watching my face the whole time.

“On the bed.”

I didn’t move. He took one step closer. The heat of him rolled over my skin again.

“I said on the bed, Lila. Or I start making calls.”

My legs carried me. The black sheets were cold under my knees. I crawled up toward the headboard because standing felt worse. He followed. The mattress dipped under his weight. One hand closed around my ankle and yanked me flat onto my back. My legs fell open. He settled between them, the heavy length of his cock resting against my inner thigh, hot and solid.

He braced one hand beside my head. The other gripped my jaw and forced my face up to his.

“You’re going to take every inch.” His thumb dragged over my lower lip. “You’re going to come on my cock whether you want to or not. And when I’m done marking you, every wolf in this territory will smell me on you for days.”

I tried to turn my head. His grip tightened.

“Say you understand.”

My voice came out cracked. “I understand.”

“Good.”

He shifted his hips. The blunt head of his cock slid through the mess between my legs, notching against my entrance. Pressure built. My body tensed. The bond pulled so hard it hurt.

He didn’t push in yet.

Instead he leaned down, mouth open against the side of my throat, right over the pulse that hammered there. Teeth scraped skin. Hot breath. The promise of the mark hung in the air between us like a blade.

“Last chance to beg,” he said against my neck. “Won’t change a fucking thing. But I want to hear it.”

My hands fisted in the sheets. My hips twitched upward against my will, seeking the thick heat that was already pressed right where I was softest and wettest.

His teeth closed a little harder on my throat.

The door to the hallway stayed locked. The fire cracked once. Somewhere far below, a wolf howled.

And still he didn’t move.