MATING A WOLF

Aria stood still, her heart pounding, her breath shallow. Her hands trembled as she stared at her new home.

Lucien’s home was a far too small cottage. It was made of stone and had uneven surfaces. It looked like the residence of a servant.

“Is this your home?” She asked in disbelief,

“As much as I hate to say this,” Lucien said as he stood in the doorway of the house, “This is now our home. Now, get in,” he ordered.

Aria gulped and with fast steps, she hurried forward and followed him inside the small cottage.

The moment she walked in, the door slammed shut behind her.

Aria jumped at the sound, a shiver running down her spine as she realized that for the first time in her life. She was alone in a room with a man.

She blushed, her cheeks blooming red as she cast her gaze down.

She glanced around the house, her sharp gaze noticing the tiny bedroom room, a corner that obviously passed as the kitchen and what was obviously both the latrine.

“Is this how a former alpha of a Clawhold is supposed to live?” She thought, a flash of pity passing through her gaze as she realized that, just like her, Lucien had a rough life.

They walked into the room and Aria stopped. The temperature in the room was high, the stone walls were so close that she felt suffocated. The fire cackling in the hearth made it all worse.

Lucien limped as he walked up to bed. Now that he was at home, he no longer held back his pain. He audibly winced as he reached the bed. With a silent grunt, he let his obsidian cane fall to the floor and sat down on the bed.

He leaned on the bed, his cane discarded, his gaze sharp as he now focused all of his attention on Aria instead of focusing on stopping the pain from affecting him.

Now that he was no longer plagued with intense pain, he was able to more accurately judge Aria.

“She is beautiful,” he thought, his sharp gaze taking in her fine features and her deep blue eyes, a hint of pity flashing through his eyes, “But being a Stillblood means she could never amount to anything in life.”

“This is the part of the ceremony where I am supposed to bed my bride.” He murmured quietly,

Aria nodded, her breath hitched as she clenched her fists. She did not answer, she couldn’t. He was her master and a full-blood, even wounded, he was still far more powerful than she was.

With a grunt, Lucien stood up from the bed and took a step forward. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t whimper, he didn’t stop.

He advanced slowly, taking a single step at a time, stopping only when he was inches away from her.

“I am not a gentle wolf,” he whispered as he locked eyes with the now panicked bride.

Defiance flashed through her eyes as she looked up and lost herself in his silver eyes.

“Then do not pretend with me.” She whispered, “We are mates.”

A slight curve made its way onto Lucien’s lips at that remark, his eyes widened as he studied her. His gaze lingered on her body's curves, on the now visible scars that ran throughout her entire body.

“You have no idea who I am,” he muttered, “We are not mates. You are just a burden I was saddled with.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Aria smirked, more defiance flashed through her eyes, “But what I do know is that I am not afraid of you.”

A dangerous smile tugged at Lucien’s lips, “You should be.”

With those words, he stretched out his hand and clenched her jaw. His fingers felt warm, warmer even than the room. Aria blinked, emotions she could not yet identify bubbled inside of her.

“Do you believe you know pain?” he asked, smirking, his gaze measuring her emotions. “Is that where your courage is from? You should see what I do to people who lie to me.”

His fingers lingered on her jaw before moving down and tightening across her throat. He did not choke her, just rested his grip.

“I’m not lying.” Aria muttered, trying but failing to hide the panic in her voice.

Silence stretched between them. Neither Wolf nor Stillblood spoke. He looked deep into her eyes and nodded.

Something flickered in her eyes as she said that - bravery? Stubbornness? Whatever it was, it made him want her.

Without missing a breath, Lucien leaned over and kissed her.

The kiss wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t tender.

It was fire and ice, it was the collision of elements that should not mix. His mouth held her tight, his tongue was hot, searching as he lost himself in her mouth as she gasped at him.

Aria stood shell-shocked, her mouth wide open in surprise. In a fit of panic, she raised her hands and started beating them on his chest.

But when the kiss carried on, she lost herself in it. Lost herself in a pleasure that she had never encountered before. She did not know how to kiss, but Aria was nothing if not a fast learner.

Lucien moved his other hand and pressed Aria’s body against him. His grip was strong and unyielding. He did not treat her as if she was fragile, he touched her like she was real.

As they both lost themselves in the kiss, his fingers ran down her spine. The kiss drowned out everything between them.

Aria leaned forward, her pounding fists now turned into fierce grips that started tearing his shirt apart.

She moaned as her fingers slid across his firm, furred chest.

“This is a mistake,” Lucien said, pulling away as he felt the touch of her skin on his.

“Yes, it might be.” Aria whispered, and with a smile on her face, she leaned forward, “But it’s my mistake to make.”

Something broke within them. At that moment, they both locked eyes and stared inside their souls. They both understood that this wasn’t love. This was heat, rage and longing compressing all at once.

Two broken souls finding each other and realizing that they could let go for once.

With a smile, Lucien lifted her into his arms. She let him, her body relaxing for what felt like the first time in decades.

Scarred, limping and with a shattered body, he carried her to bed.

Aria smiled at him, her fingers moving fast as she tore the clothes from her body.

For the first time in her life, someone wanted her.

Not as a pawn,

Not as a curse, a broken thing or as a Stillblood.

She was wanted as a woman.