Chapter 2: The Predators Fantasy

Hearing my real name, the name I had buried in blood and ash seven years ago paralyzed my nervous system.

It was Reymond, the boy who saved me years back, now the CEO, i can imagine.

The air rushed out of my lungs, leaving me hollow, swaying on my feet like a broken thing. Before my brain could scream at my legs to turn and run, a hand like a steel vice clamped around my upper arm. The grip was bruising, absolute, and utterly inescapable.

A heavy, suffocating wave of dark cedar and bitter cold crashed over me, drowning out the murmurs of the lobby. Reymond didn't walk; he dragged me. I stumbled over my own sneakers, half-carried, half-shoved across the polished marble floor as the crowd scattered like terrified sheep, clearing a wide path for the monster who had just claimed me.

The private elevator doors snapped shut around us before I could even draw breath. The ascent was a dizzying, weightless blur, shooting us straight up the obsidian monolith of Smith Blood-Security. My heart slammed against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird beating its wings to death against a cage.

He found me. He actually found me.

The second the elevator dinged and slid open, he hauled me out into his penthouse office. It was a cavernous, shadowy space of dark leather, smoked glass, and towering floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rain-lashed expanse of Geneva.

Before I could plant my heels, a heavy mahogany door slammed shut behind us with a thunderous bang. The metallic click of the deadbolt turning home echoed like a gunshot in the dead silence.

I whirled around, my fists raised, my breath hitching in my throat. "Let me go"

He didn't give me the chance.

In a blur of bespoke black fabric and raw, terrifying speed, Reymond closed the distance. He slammed me violently against the cold, rain-streaked glass of the window. The impact rattled my teeth, driving the remaining air from my chest.

His massive frame caged me in, blotting out the city lights. His molten silver eyes burned down into mine, blazing with a hunger so unhinged, so violently intense, it made my head spin.

"Finally," he growled, his voice a deep, gravelly vibration that clawed straight down my spine. "You came to me."

"I didn't, I don't know what you're talking about"

Her denial was choked off as his mouth crashed down onto her lips.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was an outright annexation. His lips were hard, demanding, and bruising, flavoured by the dark, intoxicating cedar scent that rolled off his skin in suffocating waves. Panic flared in my chest a sharp, desperate instinct telling me to fight, to claw, to bite. I raised my hands, shoving against his broad chest with all my might.

It was like pushing against a mountain of solid granite. He didn't budge.

A low, rumbling growl vibrated deep within his throat, a sound of absolute, predatory triumph. His large, calloused hands slid down from her shoulders, mapping the curve of her ribs with rough, frantic urgency before dropping to my hips.

He gripped the thick waistband of her baggy jeans.

A jolt of pure lightning raced through my veins. The friction of his hard palms against her denim made my breath hitch. He yanked her flush against his impossibly hard body, aligning every inch of her against his towering frame.

And then, the walls inside the head began to crumble.

It was terrifying. For seven years, Felisha had kept herself locked behind an impenetrable wall of bitter chemicals, suppressing her wolf, numbing her instincts, surviving on pure, biting paranoia. But standing there, pressed against the chest of the man who had let her run seven years ago, her body betrayed her.

The overwhelming scent of dark cedar and winter frost wrapped around her senses like a physical embrace. It didn't just smell like danger, it smelled like home. It smelled like the only safe harbor in a world that had tried to burn her alive.

Deep beneath her ribs, long dormant and starved for air, her inner wolf stirred. She didn't cower. She didn't fight. She stretched lazily, throwing her head back and howling a long, breathless song of absolute, unconditional submission to the apex predator towering above them.

Mine, a voice echoed inside Felishas blood, and she didn't know if it was his or hers anymore.

A shuddering gasp tore past her lips, and the fight entirely drained out of her limbs. Her hands stopped shoving against his chest. Instead, trembling fingers curled into the black fabric of his lapels, clutching at him, anchoring herself to the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly tilted on its axis.

Reymond felt the shift immediately. His mouth softened on hers, turning from a punishing assault into a deep, consuming plunder that melted the marrow in her bones. His tongue swept across her lips gently, tasting the panic and turning it into raw, feverish desire.

She placed her head back against the cold glass, a soft, pathetic whimper escaping her throat as his hand dipped beneath the hem of her oversized hoodie, sliding up to bare skin. His palm burned against her ribs, his thumb brushing the sensitive underside of her breast.

Every rational thought harboured for seven years, every vow to stay hidden, to trust no one, to keep her freedom above all else, shattered into fine crystal dust. She was drowning. She was burning. she wanted him to touch her, wanted him to brand her, wanted him to consume every piece of the life she had built out of ash.

His clothes were tearing away, buttons popping, fabric sliding off shoulders in a frenzied, chaotic blur of skin and heat. The heavy, metallic tang of rain and the rich, woodsmoke scent of his alpha aura filled the air until they were breathing the same oxygen, two halves of a violent, interlocking equation snapping violently into place.

Against the rain-swept glass of the high-rise window, suspended four hundred feet above the dark, uncaring streets of Geneva, we crossed the line.

There was no hesitation left. No resistance. Only the frantic, desperate friction of skin against skin, the heavy thud of our racing heartbeats, and a raw, feral passion that consumed every single thought in her head.

He had her. Every inch of her. Body, soul, and surrender.

She gave it all away willingly, entirely lost in the dark, blinding storm of his arms, fully convinced that this was where she belonged, and that he had finally, completely conquered her soul.