Chapter 3

Elara's POV

I walked quickly toward the tent at the far end of the camp, the bottle of deer blood tucked safely against my side.

The guards who usually stood watch outside were nowhere to be seen, likely still enjoying the feast nearby. I reached the tent and pushed the flap open without knocking.

What I saw made me stop cold.

A female wolf, one I did not recognize, was straddling Lucian on the narrow bed, her hands pressed against his bare chest.

Lucian's own hands were wrapped tight around the woman's throat, both of them locked in a violent struggle. The fresh wounds on his shoulders had torn open again, blood dripping down onto the furs beneath him.

"Get off him!" I shouted, rushing forward.

The woman turned, startled, her grip loosening just enough for Lucian to shove her sideways. She landed hard against the stone floor and scrambled up, glaring at me with open hostility.

"This is none of your business," the woman spat. "The King sent me here."

"The King sent me too," I said, stepping between them. "Kane's orders. Leave now, before I call the guards and tell them you attacked the prisoner without permission."

The woman's eyes flicked between me and Lucian, weighing her chances. Finally, with a hiss of frustration, she snatched her cloak from the floor and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I turned to Lucian, who was pressing a hand against his bleeding shoulder, his chest heaving.

"Are you trying to die?" I snapped, kneeling beside him. "You are still injured. Fighting her like that could have killed you."

"Better to die fighting," Lucian said through gritted teeth, "than to let some Northern whore paw at me while I am wounded."

"That is not fair," I said. "She did not choose to be sent either."

"Fair?" He let out a harsh laugh, wincing as it pulled at his wounds. "Do not speak to me of fair, Northern girl. Your King tortures me for a month, and when torture fails, he sends women to finish the job in a different way. What is the difference between Northern females and cheap prostitutes, given to whichever man the King points them toward?"

My jaw tightened. "Careful what you say."

"Why should I be careful? What more can you people do to me?" His eyes narrowed, sharp despite the blood on his face. "Tell me, is that why you have come tonight as well? Did your King send you for the same purpose as her?"

I did not answer right away, and my silence was answer enough. Lucian's expression darkened.

"I see," he said quietly. Then, after a pause, "I will not kill you, at least. Not after the month you spent keeping me alive with your broth and your bandages. You have earned that much."

"How generous," I muttered, though my heart was pounding.

I sat back on my heels and studied him for a long moment. He was badly hurt, weak from blood loss, trapped deep within Northern territory with no way to escape. Even if he wanted to hurt me, he would not get far. And Kane would tear him apart the instant he tried.

"Even if I did not come tonight," I said slowly, "the King would only send someone else. Someone far worse than that woman who was just here. You saw how she was. There are others fiercer still."

Lucian said nothing. He stared at me, his jaw working, his breathing slowly steadying.

For a moment, guilt filled my chest. Was I really about to force myself on a wounded man who had already suffered enough?

But what choice did I have?

While he sat there, lost in whatever thoughts churned behind his sharp eyes, I moved quickly.

I grabbed the chain still hanging from the wall and looped it around his wrists before he could react, pulling it tight with the same practiced motion I used when helping Kane bind a struggling deer for slaughter.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, jerking against the chain, but it held firm. "Untie me immediately."

I did not answer. I pulled the small bottle from my dress, popped the cork free, and pinched his jaw open with one hand before he could turn away.

I poured half the contents into his mouth. He sputtered, coughing, blood and deer's blood mixing on his lips.

"What is this?" he snarled. "What did you give me? Poison?"

"It is not poison," I said, lifting the bottle to my own lips and swallowing the rest in one quick motion, grimacing at the sharp, metallic taste. "I promise. I will be gentle with you."

Lucian's eyes widened, disbelief and fury flashing across his face. "Gentle. You tie me like an animal and force poison down my throat, and you call that gentle?"

"It is not poison," I repeated, moving closer. "It only makes things easier."

I pushed his bound hands behind his back and climbed onto the bed, lifting the fur skirt of my dress as I settled myself onto his lap. Lucian's whole body went rigid.

"Get off me," he snapped. "You filthy Northern-"

"Promiscuous," I finished for him, my voice steadier than I felt. "Dirty prostitute. I have heard it already tonight."

Despite his words, despite the fury still burning in his eyes, I saw the flush spreading across his face, saw the way his body betrayed him even as his mouth kept cursing me. The blood mixture was already working.

What followed was far harder than I had expected. I had seen this act countless times from a distance, heard it through thin walls, watched animals do it in the breeding pens without a second thought.

I had assumed my body would simply know what to do.

It did not.

Lucian was larger than I had imagined, and every attempt to take him in brought a sharp, tearing pain that made my breath catch.

I forced myself to breathe slowly, the way I had once calmed a frightened deer before the killing blow, in and out, steady and even.

Sable lied to me, I thought, gritting my teeth. Where is the pleasure from sex that she has promised?

"You force yourself onto me," Lucian ground out beneath me, his voice strained, "when you clearly know nothing of what you are doing. Pathetic. Is this truly the best the Northern Pack could send?"

I ignored him. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the warriors I had watched from a distance having sex. I remembered how their bodies moved together. Slowly and awkwardly, I copied the movement, rocking back and forth.

A low groan escaped Lucian before he quickly swallowed it.

I opened my eyes and watched his face. I wanted to know what hurt and what did not. At first, my movements were slow and unsure. I moved my hips carefully, then rocked forward again.

Lucian swallowed hard. His breathing changed as he tried to control himself.

The pain did not disappear, but slowly, it became less sharp. It changed into something warmer, something I had never felt before… a different kind of pleasure.

I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, but his heart was beating fast beneath my palms, and his muscles tightened whenever I moved. To my surprise, I realized I was beginning to enjoy it.

Lucian's breathing grew rougher. His bound hands pulled against the chains, and his body moved with mine despite his efforts to remain still.

The angry frown on his face slowly disappeared, as his eyes began to close, and his jaw relaxed. He no longer had the strength to throw insults at me. He simply breathed heavily.

I watched as he leaned his head back against the furs, exposing his throat. His control was slowly breaking.

I found myself liking the sight of him like that. I liked knowing that I was the reason he was losing control.

A strange heat grew inside me and spread through my body. I had never felt anything like it before, but I did not hate it.

I moved a little faster, following the strange feeling without fully understanding it. My fingers pressed into his chest.

Time seemed to disappear. I did not know how long we stayed together in the dim torchlight. The chains rattled softly, and our breathing slowly fell into the same rhythm.

Then a warm wave passed through me. I became breathless as my whole body tightened before relaxing again.

At the same moment, Lucian's body tensed beneath me. His hips lifted toward mine, and the last of his control finally broke.

I sat still for a moment, catching my breath. Then when I was sure that I could move, I slowly climbed off his lap with shaky legs.

I smoothed down my skirt, glancing at Lucian, who lay against the bed with his chest still rising and falling quickly. He looked away from me when he saw me watching him.

This should be enough, I thought, reaching for the chain to loosen it slightly around his wrists. This must be how a child is made.