TIED WITH ROPE

AISHA

A few minutes later, Mabel walked out from the car, standing right beside Samson. She was also going with us to the border, and that was fine, even though I would rather not have her anywhere near my sight. But this wasn't about personal feelings anymore—this was about a full-scale territorial war.

We set out into the open desert with the full strength of our combined armies, dust clouds rising high into the sky behind our heavy armored trucks. On the way, we spotted the territory markers of the third rival pack in the region: the Dark Iron Pack, ruled by Alpha Nicholas.

Nicholas was a ruthless man who absolutely hated Damian's guts. He was ready to kill Damian at any given instance, waiting for the slightest slip-up to tear Damian's throat out. Originally, this border dispute was strictly a private feud between Nicholas and Damian. But Damian, being the manipulative monster he is, had lied and dragged Samson into the conflict under the pretense of a strategic alliance. Now, the whole conflict had escalated into a bloody war to determine which single pack would rule supreme over the other two.

I looked back through the tinted window of the military truck, feeling the ancient energy coursing through my veins. With me as a rare White Wolf, possessing immense power and physical strength, I had the capability to easily help Damian win this entire war single-handedly. But deep down, I'd rather help Nicholas tear Damian into pieces.

We finally arrived at the vast, desolate desert field as evening set in. The soldiers immediately went to work, setting up our heavy canvas tents under the dark, starless sky. The air was dry, cold, and heavy with the upcoming bloodshed.

"The fight for the border starts tomorrow morning," Damian said cold-heartedly after dinner, sitting across from me in our grand command tent. "And you will be on the war field standing right beside me, Aisha."

I swallowed the dark wine I was sipping from a heavy glass bottle. Without taking my eyes off him, I smashed the glass bottle against the stone wall of the tent.

CRASH!

Dark red liquid and sharp glass fragments showered the ground.

Damian didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine with deep curiosity. "Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice low.

"It's a sign to smash my pussy," I replied, my voice thick with a dark, rebellious attitude.

Damian’s lips curved into a wicked, dark smile. He barked an order to the guards outside, ordering even more high-proof alcoholic wines to be brought directly into our tent.

"Smashing glass against the wall shows me that you become a completely different woman when you drink," Damian said, pouring me a fresh, overflowing cup of the burning liquor.

I drank heavily, gulping down cup after cup. In a few minutes, I was completely tipsy, my head spinning and my senses blurred by the strong alcohol.

Taking full advantage of my tipsy state, Damian pushed me down onto the wide fur bed. Before I could even protest, he grabbed thick leather ropes and tied my hands securely above my head, then tied my legs wide apart to the wooden posts of the bed, leaving my vagina hole completely exposed and opened to its absolute limit.

Then he went to work on me. He dropped his face between my thighs and began to suck my core with a wild, ravenous hunger. His tongue, his thick fingers, and eventually his rigid penis were all sliding inside my vagina at the exact same time, stretching me completely. I couldn't even tell if I loved it or hated it anymore, but all I knew was that I enjoyed the intense, raw pleasure, while the dull pain from my tied hands and legs felt completely minimal compared to the fire burning between my thighs.

He pounded into me with heavy, desperate thrusts, the leather ropes straining against the bed posts.

"Does Samson fuck you like this?" Damian growled out mid-thrust, his sweat dripping onto my bare stomach.

"No..." I gasped out, my head thrashing on the pillow.

"Will you ever let him touch you again?" he demanded, driving deeper into my body.

"No!" I cried out, lost in the sheer overload of sensation.

Damian slowed his pace slightly, leaning down until his dark eyes were just inches from my face. "You mentioned before that he got you drunk and took advantage of you back at his house... That's the exact reason why I am going to kill him out in this desert tomorrow. He won't leave this field alive."

I was heavily drunk, but the sudden mention of Samson's planned murder hit me like a splash of ice-cold water.

A surge of pure, uncontrollable rage boiled up from the depths of my soul. The ancient White Wolf power inside me surged through my veins, making my eyes glow a violent, blinding silver in the dark tent. The raw force radiated off my body with so much pressure that the heavy leather ropes binding my wrists and ankles snapped like brittle threads in less than a minute.

SNAP!

I sat up instantly, throwing the broken ropes aside, my voice echoing like thunder inside the canvas walls.

"You will NOT kill Samson!" I yelled, standing up on the bed, my white aura flaring around me.

Damian stood up slowly from the bed, staring at me with a cold, terrifying calm that chilled me to the bone. He didn't look shocked by my sudden display of raw power—he looked validated.

"You love him," Damian said, his voice dripping with absolute disgust and possessiveness. "And now, that gives me an even bigger reason to kill him tomorrow. Once he is dead, this fight will be over, and you will belong to me completely."

Without another word, Damian turned his back on me and walked out into the cool desert night completely naked, his long penis dangling casually between his legs as he disappeared into the darkness.

I stood there alone in the quiet tent, my heart hammering against my chest as my White Wolf aura slowly faded back into my skin.

A heavy, sickening weight settled in the pit of my stomach.

I originally came into this forced marriage for one reason: to destroy Mabel, clear my name, regain my freedom, and maybe eventually marry Samson. But now, Samson's life was in immediate, deadly risk.

His father, Alpha Brad, had already been poisoned to death by Mabel. A father and a son cannot both die because of me. Never. I could not let Samson become another victim in this twisted game of power.

Damian was a terrifyingly dangerous Alpha—far more powerful, calculating, and ruthless than Samson could ever hope to be. If I wanted to save Samson's life, destroy Mabel, and survive this bloody border war tomorrow, I had to tread extremely carefully. One wrong move, and everything I fought for would crumble into dust.