FAZER LOGIN“Greer, what are you still doing here?” Rurik asks, pausing in the hallway as he passes my bedroom.“Kline told me to give him an extra hour today,” I say without looking up from the dead brick in my hands.It hasn’t worked since the moment we passed the gate into this hell-town, but that hasn’t stopped me from trying.I can’t scroll mindlessly for hours anymore. I can’t text anyone. Not that I had many people to text in the first place.So I’ve repurposed it.I use it as a journal now.A few weeks ago, I would’ve called people who journal nerds. People with too much time and not enough friends.Turns out writing your thoughts down so they don’t rot inside your skull is actually useful.Annoyingly useful.God.This is who I am now, isn’t it?Rurik raises a brow and shifts so he’s fully facing my doorway.“For what?”“I don’t know, Rurik. I didn’t ask.” I shrug and hit save on the note before finally looking up at him.He’s watching me like the phone is more interesting than I am.“Whi
He let me rest for two full days before I was forced to get back out and “earn my food.”Fucking ridiculous.Two days is the grace period for surviving an alpha’s heat, apparently.It was such a big deal until I actually did it.For two whole days, he fed me real food. Beef and beans the first night. Fish with rice, on the second. Both days I got breakfast. Actual breakfast. Not “go catch it yourself” breakfast.Warm. Seasoned. Plated.Like I was something worth stabilizing.It almost felt like mercy.That was the dangerous part. Because it wasn’t mercy.Now that I proved I could do it, I stopped being something to save and became something to maintain.You don’t pour gasoline into something you’re done using.You stabilize it. You keep it functional. You feed it food while it recovers.You assess the damage, let it rest for a while, and then you put it back to work.On the third morning, like some prophetic nightmare, he walks into the room and tosses a folded bundle onto the bed bes
Nothing changed.I knew it wouldn’t. Or I thought I did. The fact that I feel even a flicker of disappointment over that probably means I expected something to change after all.I was terrified of what would happen when his heat came. Now I’m lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and I’m alive.Obviously.I don’t know how to feel about that.When I thought I wasn’t going to survive, I shoved those thoughts down deep. Buried them. Now it’s over, and they’re still there, but I don’t know what to do with them anymore.He didn’t say another word to me.Didn’t touch me again once he got out of bed. But he didn’t stop watching me.Even when he left the room, I felt his attention. I don’t know how. I just know I could feel it. Like prey knows when it’s being watched from the tree line.From the shower. From the other side of the wall.The moment he came back, the pressure shifted. His eyes replaced it. Locked on me. Unblinking.Like he doesn’t know what to think either.That thought unse
He growls as I collapse forward, boneless and trembling beneath him. His deep brown eyes are locked on me like he’s been wandering in the desert, and I’m an oasis.He’s not done. Not even close. I knew he wouldn’t be. Not after my heat. Not after learning that his heat was made for a pack, not a person. Still, some part of me expected him to pause. To need a break. Something human.But no. He is not human.I swear to god, his cock doesn’t even soften. He comes. I feel it when he pulses inside of me. I feel it spilling out over my thighs every time he thrusts, but he does not go soft. Not even for a second.One hand fists in my hair, the other wraps around my waist, and in a single fluid motion he hauls me up and over. Onto my back. Sprawled beneath him, thighs still shaking, chest heaving.“Look at me,” he rasps.I can’t. I’m not sure I’d want to look into that depraved gaze right now, even if I could.He grabs my jaw and forces my gaze to his. His pupils are blown wide, eyes dark and
I wake up warm.Too warm.Too safe.My heart is already pounding before I even open my eyes. Because I know. I know where I am.The weight of the furs. The scent in the air. Dark woodsmoke, heat, male. The heavy presence behind me, breathing steady and deep.I don’t move.Not at first.Because if I move, it’ll be real. If I move, I’ll have to admit I came back.That even after everything I said. After screaming at him through the door, after bleeding and breaking and biting down the urge to crawl back... I did it anyway.I got up.I came to his room.I climbed into his bed.Again.“Don’t say it,” I whisper.There’s a beat. Then a low rumble behind me. His chest is shaking with something like amusement.“I didn’t.”I clench my jaw. “You were going to.”“Obviously.”I hate him.I hate this.My body isn’t screaming anymore. My blood isn’t clawing at my skin. I’m warm. Fed. Breathing without effort.And all of that makes me want to tear the furs off and run screaming into the woods.I shi
I wake in his bed again.I know it immediately, without opening my eyes or moving. The weight of his furs. The heat of his chest at my back. The slow brush of his breath against the crown of my head.God damn it.Yesterday, I managed to avoid him. Mostly.I caught enough fish to trade for a loaf of bread and two bowls of soup from a stall near the south wall. I almost cried over that bread.I think I did, actually.The woman didn’t comment. Just wrapped it and slid it across the counter like she’d seen worse reactions over worse things.After dinner, I didn’t linger.I bolted for the shower, stood under the bioluminescent glow until my muscles finally unlocked, then climbed straight into bed. I fell asleep almost immediately.That part doesn’t surprise me.Waking up here does.I keep my eyes closed, counting breaths that aren’t mine. His chest rises and falls behind me, steady and unbothered. His arm isn’t around me. He isn’t holding me.He doesn’t have to.My body is already pressed b







