26

She shifted in the tub, turning slightly as if the water could shield her from my gaze, her body still drawn in, defensive. But under all that defiance, I could smell it... pain.

“You hurt yourself.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

I did not answer right away.

Because I could still feel Ragnar pacing just under the surface, teeth bared, not in anger at her, but in a restless kind of protectiveness I hadn’t felt in centuries. His attention had locked onto that tiny cut like it was a wound.

“you are bleeding,” I said finally. “I can smell it.”

She frowned, looking down at her hand. The cut had already crusted over, a thin, clumsy scrape from something small. Glass, maybe. 

“I just cut myself,” she muttered. “You do not need to play concerned.”

I took another step toward the tub, and she flinched, though she tried to mask it with annoyance. My gaze stayed on her hand, but I did not speak. Ragnar still hadn't retreated. 

“But of course,” Melany said. “You do not really worry about your slaves, do you?” My eyes lifted to meet hers. “I heard what happens to them,” she continued, slower this time. “You fuck them. Then they die.”

I did not flinch. I’d grown used to the blood on my hands. But hearing it from her, said aloud... Still, I kept my voice calm. “Who told you that?”

She just shrugged, sinking deeper into the water.

I stepped closer, letting my voice drop. "I haven’t fucked you yet. And you are still breathing."

"Yet," she snapped back, her chin lifting. "You won’t touch me without my permission."

I had heard that the women of the Black Moon pack were raised for marriage, that the most obedient she-wolves in all of Atheon came from there. It seemed the rumors were lies. This girl from Black Moon was insolent, and I swear by the Goddess I would tear her head off if I could. If Ragnar allowed it.

"Then say no," I tilted my head, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "And make sure you fucking mean it."

Before she could fire back again, Sorvane surged up inside me, pushing harder. “She has no say. She’s here to feed us.”

My jaw clenched. I felt my hands twitch at my sides, the heat rising fast behind my eyes. 

Ragnar growled, warning, but Sorvane did not care. He was stronger than he’d been in weeks, drunk on the nearness of her. “Take her,” he hissed.

I took a step back, then another, my chest locking tight as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Heat surged beneath my skin, sharp and violent, coiling in my muscles, in my jaw, in the hands that curled into fists at my sides. 

The demon pressed in, relentless, crowding my thoughts, urging me forward, urging me to break, to act. My vision narrowed, the edges of the room blurring as my pulse thundered in my ears.

Staying was no longer an option. One more second and I would fucking lose control.

I turned abruptly and strode for the door. I yanked it open and crossed the threshold without looking back. The door crashed shut behind me, the impact ringing through the corridor.

Romeo stood waiting outside, arms crossed.

I did not look at him when I spoke. "Bring me a she-wolf every night."

Romeo raised a brow, but I did not give him time to ask questions.

"Let the demon feed until he chokes."

**

Melany's POV

Click.

The soft click of the lock slipped into my sleep before it dragged me out of it. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurred, my body still heavy as if the night hadn’t finished with me yet. 

I shifted against the mattress and brought a hand to my face, rubbing at my eyes, trying to understand where I was before the memory fully settled.

The door creaked as it opened.

Pale light spilled in from the corridor, cutting across the room in a narrow line. A figure stepped into it, moving unhurriedly, filling the doorway piece by piece. For a heartbeat, my pulse spiked — Ravok — but the shape was wrong. This man was older. 

His hair was sparse and slicked back with something oily, catching the dim light. His round stomach pushed against his vest as he advanced, leather and fabric shifting with each slow step into the room.

A sour stench of sweat, wine and stale meat hit me before his voice did. “The guards were talking,” he rasped, his lips curling into a wet, leering smile. “Said you had pretty legs. I had to come see for myself. And fuck… for a filthy little human, you are actually fuckable.”

“Who are you?” I pulled the blanket up to my chest, heart hammering, but he only grinned wider, dragging his tongue across cracked lips as his eyes slid down my body.

“That’s not a pussy worth keeping locked up for the king,” he sneered, stepping closer. “Open your legs and stay quiet, and I won’t call the guard to come in here and slit your throat.”

My stomach knotted with pure revulsion, but my body refused to move as I glared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. 

His knee pressed into the mattress, sinking it down beneath his weight, and the shift pulled me slightly toward him.

"Get out of here!" I jerked backward, scooting on my elbows until my spine hit the cold wall behind the bedframe. 

My fingers fumbled across the sheets, searching for something to use against him. The glass of water on the nightstand, the lamp, even the sharp corner of a tray; my mind ran through them all in a blur.

He noticed. 

His obscene grin widened. “Where are you going, little pet?”

My throat tightened, but I bared my teeth in a silent warning.

“I can even be generous,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a disgusting. “Let me taste that young little cunt of yours. I bet you’ve never been licked by someone who knows how to ruin a girl right.”

His hand crept forward, thick fingers brushing against the edge of the blanket as he tried to peel it away from my knee. 

The touch jolted me into action. I shot up from the bed and bolted to the other side of the room. My bare feet slapped against the cold floor as I backed into the corner near the dresser, one hand groping blindly for anything I could throw. 

He laughed again, dragging his bulk off the bed. His steps were heavy, the wooden floor creaking under his weight as he closed the distance between us inch by inch.

I backed up instinctively, my spine brushing the cold wall. 

His eyes roamed over me like I was meat on a table. "I can fuck your ass if you want to keep that pretty cunt untouched for the king," he sneered. 

His hand shot out fast, fingers grazing my thigh as he closed the gap. I jerked sideways, but he followed, his breath hot and sour near my face.

“do not touch me!” I snapped, but my voice was thinner than I wanted.

He just chuckled, ignoring the warning. His palm landed heavy on my hip, sliding upward with greedy fingers. “Mmm, they weren’t lying… ” he squeezed my hip, leaning closer.

I shoved at his chest, but it was like pushing against a wall of fat and muscle. 

He did not even flinch.

That was what all the girls in the brothel feared: wolves who slipped into their rooms and touched them without permission. At the time, I couldn’t imagine that one filthy wolf could ruin a night so completely.

“Let go!” I spat.

“You think you are worth the king keeping you all to himself?” His voice dropped to an ugly rasp as his hand dragged lower. 

I stumbled backward toward the table, fingers skimming over the surface for a weapon. 

“You think you can fight me, pet? I could make you scream just by using my tongue. Want me to prove it?” And then his hand lunged again, aiming for my thigh.