Sold To Alpha Ezekiel

Selara’s POV

"Say it," Ezekiel growled against my throat, his voice rough as claws dragging over silk. "Say you’re mine."

The command scraped down my spine, a dark brand searing into my soul. My lips parted, breath trembling as his hand tightened around my wrist, pinning me against the stone wall of his chamber.

I should have fought. Should have clawed, bit, resisted the way I always did. But the bond burned too hot between us, flooding every nerve with betrayal and hunger.

“I hate you,” I whispered instead, defiant.

Ezekiel’s mouth curved, wicked and sharp. His gray eyes burned molten silver in the firelight, the gaze of a predator who already owned me body and soul. He leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth, a ghost of a kiss I ached for but shouldn’t want.

“Then hate me harder,” he murmured, before crushing his mouth against mine.

The kiss was brutal—hot, consuming, and edged with danger. His fangs grazed my lower lip, sharp enough to draw blood, and I gasped when his tongue swept in to claim it. He tasted me like I was both feast and curse, dragging my wrists above my head, locking me there with one hand while his other roamed down the curve of my waist.

My heart hammered so violently I thought it might burst. The room spun with the intensity of him—his scent, his heat, his power rolling over me like a storm.

I twisted, trying to break free, but my body betrayed me. My hips arched into him, desperate despite every warning in my head. He groaned low in his chest, grinding me back against the wall as though he could fuse me into the stone.

“You burn for me,” Ezekiel said against my lips, voice dark velvet. “No matter how much you curse my name.”

“Shut up,” I hissed, but it came out as a plea.

His grip on my wrists tightened, dragging them higher, stretching me until I was forced to tip my chin up. He stared down at me, his hair falling in shadows across his face, the firelight catching on the scar across his jaw.

“Say it,” he demanded again. “Say you belong to me.”

My pulse thundered, my body trembling with want and fury. I wanted to spit in his face, to remind him of every cruel word, every ruthless act. But instead, a whimper tore from my throat when his thigh pressed between mine, spreading me open, grinding into the aching heat at my core.

The sound only made him smile darker.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Feel how weak you are for me? That’s the bond, Selara. You can’t run from it.”

I hated him. Hated that he was right.

My body was on fire, and every brush of his skin against mine was gasoline poured over the flames. He dropped my wrists, but I didn’t pull away—I couldn’t. His hands slid down, gripping my hips, dragging me flush against him until I felt the hard evidence of his hunger pressing into me.

I shuddered.

His lips left mine only to trail fire down my throat, biting hard enough to leave bruises, soothing the sting with his tongue. My hands betrayed me, fisting in his shirt, dragging him closer instead of pushing him away.

“Ezekiel…” His name left my lips like a curse and a prayer.

He lifted his head, his mouth swollen, his gaze savage. “Say it, Selara.”

I broke then. The fight, the fury, the denial—it all shattered under the weight of the bond, the way his touch set me ablaze.

“I’m yours,” I gasped, shame laced with desperate need.

Ezekiel snarled in triumph, and in the next heartbeat he had me against the bed. The furs were soft beneath me, but nothing could soften the hunger in his eyes as he stripped away the thin dress I wore, tearing the fabric as if it offended him.

Heat crawled up my neck as I lay bare under his gaze, but instead of mockery, his eyes darkened with reverence and possession.

“Mine,” he growled, lowering his mouth to my breast. His fangs scraped dangerously close to my nipple before his lips closed around it, sucking hard. My back arched, a moan tearing from me before I could bite it back.

His hand slid between my thighs, fingers finding the wet heat that betrayed me completely.

“Look at you,” Ezekiel said, lifting his head, his mouth wet with me, his voice ragged. “You say you hate me, yet your body begs.”

“I…” My protest broke off in a sob of pleasure as his fingers pushed inside me, curling, stroking, drawing me tighter and tighter.

The firelight flickered across his skin, sweat gleaming as he hovered over me, relentless in his touch. My nails raked down his back, leaving red trails he only growled at, his thrusting fingers matching the savage rhythm of his mouth when he claimed mine again.

When he pulled his hand away, I whimpered at the loss, but then he was undoing his belt, shoving his trousers down, and the raw hunger in his eyes stole the breath from my lungs.

“Spread for me,” he ordered, voice lethal with command.

And I did. Gods help me, I obeyed.

He pushed into me with one savage thrust, filling me, stretching me until I cried out, nails clawing at the furs. Pain and pleasure knifed through me, sharp and intoxicating, and Ezekiel groaned like he’d finally come home.

“Mine,” he said again, each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. “Every… fucking… part… of you.”

I should have screamed. Should have clawed free. But instead, I wrapped my legs around his waist, dragging him deeper, surrendering to the fire consuming me.

The world outside disappeared—no cages, no curses, no wars. Just his body, his heat, his claim seared into my very soul.

When the climax tore through me, it was violent, shattering, a scream ripped from my throat as my body convulsed around him. Ezekiel snarled, biting into my shoulder, marking me as his, spilling into me as though he’d branded me forever.

I collapsed against the furs, trembling, tears stinging my eyes at the betrayal of my own desire.

He held me there, breathing ragged against my skin, his arm caging me to his chest.

“You’ll never escape me, Selara,” he whispered darkly, pressing a kiss to the mark he’d left. “Even if you run, even if you hate me… your soul knows who it belongs to.”

And the worst part was… he was right.