IV - A Pet

~AMARA~

The door wouldn't budge, no matter how much I pulled on the door handle.

The dark tinted windows were sealed shut also, locked from the outside—somehow—and after over an hour of trying, I was left a sweat-soaked mess.

I didn't have the strength to rip the door from the hinges.

I was practically human, except for one tiny part.

I have a mate.

Even now, without him in the room, I could feel it. Something newly awakened in me, a burning sensation that seemed to coil around every inch of me, searing deep into my soul, making me ache, making me crave things I didn't understand.

My body didn't feel like mine.

Finding your fated mate is a rarity, one that is always celebrated lavishly amongst the wolves and shifters alike. It meant we were following the exact will of the gods; it meant they had great plans for us.

Yet, I was mortified.

Kairox?

A man whose last name no one knew or where he came from. The only thing I know about him is the fact that he managed to tame rogues. Being a rogue himself, he raised an army, and since three years ago, he'd begun to wreak havoc on Orion's borders, breaching territories no other pack would dare touch.

He had no fear.

He had no emotions.

He took lives as though they had no meaning.

Just like he did to those poor drivers.

No.

I have to find a way out.

I cannot—will not—belong to such a beast!

Just as my thoughts began to spiral into full-blown panic, I heard the door click open and footsteps approaching. I went deathly still, breath stuck in my chest as I smelled him. He was back.

He left me a whole day in this room, and now he was back.

Kairox.

"Princess," he called out, low and enthralling. The baritone washed over me like an ice bath, making my skin break out in goosebumps, stealing the breath from my already failing lungs.

I didn't want to turn around. I feared what might become of me if I faced him.

I should reject him, I thought to myself.

That way I wouldn't be scared of my body's reactions to him.

The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood as he approached. I was standing by the window, still covered in sweat, still a shivering mess from his scent.

Something citrusy tinged his scent.

My stomach lurched in response, churning with a vengeance as it reminded me I hadn't eaten in hours.

I turned around, slowly, foolishly.

And there he was.

A crooked smile stretched his lips when he met my eyes, the simple action tugging at the scar on his jaw.

He was wearing a different shirt; it was a deep blue with a large skull on the center, it had red eyes and horns.

His brown hair was dry but messy, looking as if he'd run in the wind and never bothered to tame his hair.

He stood there, watching me like I was his prey, a source of amusement, and it lit up every spark I didn't think I had.

I was angry.

I've never been angry at anything in my life, but seeing those odd-colored eyes, the mirth in them.

Am I a joke to him?

A source of entertainment perhaps?

I should reject him.

"You must be starving," he said, tilting his head sideways as his eyes roamed my skin, searching for something.

"You heal slow," he noted, brows pulling together for a second. He took a slow step forward and I instantly took one back.

"What are you?" He raised a brow in question; he somehow managed to sound curious yet look unbothered by my identity.

"I'm a wolf." I responded, my voice smaller than I intended.

"Sure you are," he chuckled, staying in place.

"Come, let's get some food in you," he said, holding out a tattooed hand. I looked down at it warily, having absolutely no intention of taking it.

I looked back up at him, my intention clear in my eyes.

"Don't be stubborn," he said. "Would you rather remain in here and starve to death?"

"Will you let me go?"

"That will never happen," he replied with a shrug.

I took another step back, my back pressed against the wall now. "Then no," I huffed, my voice stronger. "I will rather starve," I declared.

His grin widened. "Your voice is soft, but your words are anything but." A low chuckle left him. "I won't hurt you, princess...I just want to feed you." He held out his hand yet again, not relenting.

His voice though was gentler.

Almost deceiving.

Almost.

I shook my head.

"When my fiancé comes for me—"

"—No one is coming for you," he interrupted sharply. "It will do you good to remember that." There was a chill that seeped into my bones as the look in his eyes changed.

I began to miss the humor.

"Now, come." He ordered. This time his voice was strict and the air around him shifted.

His wolf, I realized.

He was Alpha, and alphas had significantly more strength than the rest of us. Their wolves could bring anyone to their knees if they willed it.

It all depends on the strength of the Alpha, and the strength of the wolf they wish to break.

Unfortunately for me, I was the weakest there was.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I looked away while begrudgingly taking his hand. I couldn't resist the pull and I couldn't fight back the pressure of his wolf's presence.

His fingers wrapped around mine like satin with a vice grip. His palms were soft, hot, smooth and way larger than mine were.

The feel of his skin against mine was otherworldly; my heart hammered endlessly against my ribs as the contact sent jolts of electricity racing through my entire frame.

Something tugged and twisted in my stomach, pounding, aching, craving.

A low gasp left my lips.

And I heard him huff; it sounded almost like a grunt.

I was too scared to meet his eyes. I knew he felt what I felt.

And it scared me.

What if the bond keeps me here? With him, with a barbaric monster who has stolen my happiness?

He tugged at my arm before my mind could register what was going on, and he brought me closer, so close that our chests almost touched.

I looked up into his eyes then, and what I saw made my knees lose strength.

Heat. Dark, unbridled heat.

My lips parted as I struggled for air, breath mingling with his. Heavy, wanting.

Yet.

What did I want?

His other hand came up to my neck, and I feared another touch would leave me undone.

With ruthless precision, Kairox clasped what felt like a collar around my neck—leather yet with the unmistakable chill of metal pressing against my racing pulse, thrumming with a strange power that made my skin crawl. The click of the lock echoed like final judgment.

My eyes widened in shock.

"What...what is this?!"

Kairox leaned down, his lips brushed my ear as he murmured, voice dark with possession:

"This is meant to make sure you behave, princess."

"I...I am not some pet you can just put a collar on!" My hands went up to unclasp the collar but he caught my wrists midway.

"Pet?" He murmured against my skin. "Don't tempt me, princess..." he said. "That name suggests things you aren't ready for...yet."