21

Ravok POV

I drained the last swallow of whiskey, letting the burn coat my throat before I set the glass on the table.

“On the bed. Hands and knees,” I said, my voice calm. My gaze slid to the bed, then to Seraphina, who was still kneeling naked in the corner, her head bowed like a trained pet. 

“Yes, Majesty,” she murmured. Seraphira lifted her head slowly, a practiced smile curling her lips, an empty expression meant to please, not to feel. 

Her body moved with grace as she stood and crossed the room, the curve of her back catching the low light, the sway of her hips too rehearsed. Her breasts shifted with each step, full and high, the soft weight of them drawing my gaze.

When she reached the bed, she did not hesitate. She climbed onto the mattress with the fluidity of someone who’d done this a thousand times, her back curving in a smooth arch as she lowered herself onto all fours. Her palms spread wide against the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric for balance, and her ass lifted high, perfectly rounded and firm. 

I watched the slow roll of her spine as she adjusted her stance, knees parting just enough for me to catch the glistening pink between her thighs.

I did not feel a thing.

Not even the faintest stir of Ragnar.

“Perfect,” Sorvane purred in the back of my mind.

I walked toward her in measured steps, my fingers moving to my belt. The leather gave and I did not bother removing the rest, just unzipped my pants and freed myself. Mechanically, I tore open the condom packet and slid it on. 

Seraphina turned her head slightly, her cheek pressing against the sheets. “Do you want me to...”

“No.” My voice silenced her. “Stay where you are.”

She stilled immediately. Obedient.

I lined myself up behind her, my hands gripping her hips. Her skin was smooth beneath my fingers, and she arched for me like she was used to being handled.

I pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until I was buried to the hilt.

"Yes..." She moaned. Not fear. Anticipation, cause she wanted to please and to be chosen again.

Sorvane inhaled through me. I could feel his claws curling deeper into my ribs, pleasure not mine scraping like bone against bone.

My hips began to move. I slammed into her with a violent need, the kind that wasn’t mine. 

“Harder,” he hissed, and my hips obeyed.

Seraphina gasped beneath me, her fingers tangling in the sheets as her spine arched with every thrust, hips rolling back to meet mine in practiced rhythm, her voice rising in breathy moans. “Harder, Majesty,” she whimpered. “Please… fuck me harder.”

But I wasn’t looking at her.

I wasn’t even here.

Her scent was dull, shallow, and already fading from my senses. Nothing like... hers. The girl with fire in her eyes and who looked at me like I wasn’t a king.

Melany.

I closed my eyes, only for a second, and she was there... lips curled in defiance, red hair clinging to damp skin, the memory of her pressed to a wall with my breath on her neck.

And Sorvane stirred. “Yes,” he hissed inside my skull, thick with hunger. “Think of her.”

My grip on Seraphina’s hips tightened, fingers digging deep into her flesh until she cried out, the sound somewhere between pain and performance. 

I wasn’t sure if it was me who moved next or Sorvane, because something inside me surged forward, driving my hips faster, harder, until the bed shook beneath us.

Seraphina moaned louder, rocking back against me. “Yes, fuck! Majesty... more...”

Her words meant nothing.

“Take her,” Sorvane snarled. I leaned over her, chest sliding along her slick back as I pressed her deeper into the mattress. Her breath hitched when I reached her shoulder, and before I could stop myself (before he could be stopped) my teeth sank into her flesh.

"Ah!" She screamed, body seizing under me as blood welled against my lips. 

Still, Sorvane devoured it. I could feel him clawing the edges of my mind breaking as he pulled everything from her, the lust, the energy, the pulse of life rippling with every thrust.

I moved because I couldn’t stop.

Because he wouldn’t let me!

The edges of my vision bled red. The room tilted, drowned in a haze of heat, and all I could see was her body beneath me. My muscles locked as Sorvane surged, riding the high of her surrender. My thrusts grew brutal, so I came.

A shudder ripped through me, a wave crashing too hard, too deep, not pleasure but release.

Seraphina cried out too, seconds later. Her body arched sharply beneath mine, her walls clenching around me in a reflexive spasm.

That was all Sorvane needed.

The demon’s presence tightened abruptly, no longer coiled but anchored, as if hooks had sunk deep where my soul should have been. Pressure crushed inward, merciless, and then the draining began. 

It wasn’t gentle. 

It was a violent pull. 

Sorvane tore into her from the inside, ripping heat straight from her veins. I felt it as a sudden chill against my skin, and her body reacted instantly, muscles locking, breath shuddering as the life was dragged out of her in long, brutal tugs. 

The scent changed. 

Sweat cooled too fast. 

Her body sagged beneath me, strength bleeding out with every second the demon fed, leaving her hollowed, trembling, emptied by something that did not care whether she survived the taking.

Her moan choked into a whimper.

Seraphina's body went still beneath me.

I pulled out quickly, stumbling back as if burned, my breath ragged, chest heaving. Her form lay sprawled across the bed, limbs slack, skin already paling.

“Sorvane,” I growled.

But he was fed now.

I stared at her. There was no blood from the bite anymore, cause even that had been taken. But no matter how cold the room suddenly felt, I couldn’t shake the heat of her blood from my mouth.

I dragged a hand through my hair and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. There was no pleasure, but there was satisfaction. I had fed the monster, so I was full too.

**

Steam still clung to the air when I stepped out of the bathing chamber with a towel slung across my shoulders, water dripping from my hair and tracing down the ridges of my back. I wore nothing but a pair of dark trousers, the rest of me bare.

I turned toward the window, resting my palms against the stone ledge.

I was never proud of having sex just to feed Sorvane, but it had been that way for so long that I’d grown used to it. Today, however, the disgust was sharper. Ragnar felt it too. For a wolf, finding his mate and being unable to claim her is like sacrificing his own instinct.

Behind me, the door creaked open without a knock and Romeo entered.

I did not look at him, but I heard the click of his boots on the marble, the sharp inhale he took before speaking. “So,” he began, voice low but pointed, “the guest wasn’t compatible with Sorvane after all?” Romeo paused. “Then why wasn’t she sacrificed first?”

“You owe me answers, Romeo. Not the fucking opposite.” I turned slowly, lifting my gaze to meet his.