It’s Time: Sophia’s Perspective

I can feel Zane's eyes on me throughout dinner, a weight as tangible as his hand at the small of my back when we entered the dining room. Neither of us touches the elaborate meal much, the tension between us leaves no room for appetite.

When he finally pushes his barely-touched plate away and stands, extending his hand to me, I know exactly where we're going. I’m not going back to my suite tonight. His bedroom. Where he'll complete what the bite on my neck started. Where I'll become his entirely.

'He's been waiting all day,' Nyx murmurs in my mind, her voice strangely eager. 'Conri can barely be contained.'

'At least one of us is looking forward to this,' I reply silently, trying to keep the bitterness from seeping into our mental bond. But there's no hiding from Nyx, she feels my fear as acutely as I do.

'It won't be as bad as you think,' she tries to reassure me, but there's uncertainty beneath her words.

I place my hand in Zane's, my fingers disappearing in his much larger grasp. His skin burns against mine, alpha heat, a physical manifestation of the power that radiates from him in waves. He doesn't speak as he leads me through the corridors of his fortress-home. He doesn't need to. The claiming mark on my neck pulses in time with my heartbeat, a constant reminder of what's to come.

Pack members we pass lower their eyes, though I catch their curious glances. They must know what's happening tonight. Perhaps they can smell it on us, the alpha's intention, my resignation. The scent of fate being sealed.

Zane's private wing feels warmer than the rest of the pack house, the harsh stone walls softened by strategic lighting and subtle touches that speak of the wolf rather than just the Alpha. He stops before a heavy wooden door, carved with the pack symbol, a crescent moon partially eclipsed by shadow. How fitting, I think, that symbol of light being consumed by darkness.

The door swings open under his touch, revealing the Alpha's sanctuary. His scent hits me immediately, pine, smoke, and something primal that makes my knees weaken despite myself.

The room is exactly as I imagined an alpha's den would be, everything dark and masculine, from the stone fireplace with its dancing flames to the massive bed that dominates the far wall. The sheets are deep crimson, like dried blood against the black frame.

'My God,' I breathe, taking in the opulence that somehow manages to avoid ostentation. This room isn't designed to impress; it's designed for comfort, for privacy, for... what's about to happen.

'His scent is everywhere,' Nyx says unnecessarily. I can practically taste Zane on the air, feel it seeping into my pores.

Zane closes the door behind us, the soft click of the latch falling into place somehow more final than a slam would have been. I stand awkwardly in the centre of the room, arms wrapped around myself as if that could provide any protection.

"Come here," he says, his voice low but unmistakably a command.

I turn to face him, my legs moving of their own accord. The claiming bite makes refusal nearly impossible, my body responding to his authority even as my mind rebels against it.

When I'm standing before him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The gentle gesture catches me off guard, making my breath hitch.

"I told you I'd make this good for you, little wolf," he says, his steel-grey eyes holding mine. "I meant it."

In those eyes, I see something flicker, not just lust or dominance, but something I can't quite name. Something that might be consideration, might even be tenderness. But behind it lurks something wilder, something hungry that makes my stomach tighten with anticipation and dread.

'That's Conri,' Nyx whispers in my mind. 'He's riding Zane hard tonight.'

'Of course he is,' I reply bitterly. 'He's getting what he wants.'

Zane's hands move to the top button of my blouse, one of the finer garments Lyra provided, navy silk that feels like water against my skin. His fingers work methodically, unhurried, revealing inch by inch of pale flesh. I force myself to remain still, to breathe normally, though my heart threatens to hammer its way out of my chest.

"You're trembling," he observes, his voice neutral as the last button gives way and he pushes the blouse from my shoulders.

"I'm scared," I admit, seeing no point in lying when he can likely smell my fear.

Something shifts in his expression, a tightening around the eyes, perhaps, or a subtle downturn of his mouth. "I won't lie and say this won't hurt," he says, his hands moving to the fastening of my skirt. "But the pain will be brief."

The skirt joins my blouse on the floor, leaving me in nothing but simple underwear. I resist the urge to cover myself, knowing it would be futile. His eyes move over my body with undisguised appreciation, making me feel simultaneously objectified and strangely powerful.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra with practiced ease. The straps slide down my arms, and I fight the instinct to catch the garment, to hold it against myself. Instead, I let it fall, exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze.

'Breathe,' Nyx urges as Zane hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my underwear, drawing them down my legs in one smooth motion.

And then I'm completely naked before him, goosebumps rising on my flesh despite the warmth of the room. Zane takes a step back, his eyes never leaving my body as his hands move to his own clothing.

He undresses with the efficient movements of a soldier, no seduction, no show, just the systematic removal of barriers between our skin. First his shirt, revealing the muscled torso I've glimpsed before, covered in intricate black tattoos that ripple with his movements. Then his pants, leaving him in black boxer briefs that do little to hide his obvious arousal.

When he removes the final piece of clothing, I can't help the small gasp that escapes me. He's enormous, proportional to his massive frame, but still intimidating to someone who's never been with a man before. I swallow hard, imagining how this is supposed to work, how he could possibly fit inside me without tearing me apart.

'He won't hurt us,' Nyx says, though I hear the uncertainty in her voice. 'Not permanently.'

Zane steps forward again, his nakedness somehow making him more intimidating rather than vulnerable. One hand cups my cheek, tilting my face up to his. His thumb traces my lower lip, sending unwanted shivers down my spine.

"Once I start," he says, his voice deepening to a register that seems to vibrate through my bones, "I won’t stop until you're completely mine. Do you understand?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"Say it," he demands softly.

"I understand," I whisper.

Something like satisfaction crosses his features. "Good girl."