Burn The World

Althea’s throat was parched. Instinctively, she reached for the bottle on the table, uncorked it, and drank directly from it. 

Wine. She always kept it close because it was the only thing that ever helped her fall asleep when sleep refused to come.

The alcohol wasn’t strong, but her tolerance was low. The burn hit her throat, seeped into her chest, and eased the tight grip of dread twisting in her gut. She drank again, needing just enough courage to do what the Alpha King asked of her.

Gavriel observed her silently, his gaze calm and unreadable, like a predator patiently waiting for his prey to surrender.

This wasn’t how she pictured her first intimacy with a man. Not like this... But her choice had long since been taken away from her.

“I said strip, not get drunk,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “Or do you want me to do it?”

His eyes gleamed with something dark… amusement, hunger, and danger. “If I do, I won’t be gentle. I’ll rip that dress off you without hesitation.”

Althea tensed, her heartbeat quickening. Her fingers trembled as she put the wine bottle back on the table. The bitter-sweet taste still tingled on her lips. The warmth from the drink was quickly spreading beneath her skin, gentle but fast. 

Her chest rose and fell more quickly. She blamed it on the alcohol, but deep down, she knew it was also because of him.

Gavriel sat at the edge of the bed like a predator waiting. His forearms rested on his knees, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on her with intense focus. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. But everything about him radiated possession and restraint.

She hesitated, her throat feeling dry once more as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Finally, she did what was expected and reached for the clasp of her dress.

Gavriel’s gaze remained steady. Althea slowly untied the first string at the back of her neck, letting the fabric slip away. Her pulse quickened with each careful movement. She had never done this before, never been exposed in front of a man, but tonight, she had no choice but to go through with it. 

She had struck a bargain, and this was the price. The dress slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet like spilled ink.

She stood there, exposed, her breath catching as the cool air brushed against her flushed skin. Her face felt hot, not only from embarrassment but also from the heat pooling in her belly. The wine... it was affecting her more strongly now. A warmth was spreading through her limbs, clouding her senses.

Still, she stood tall, even as her knees wobbled.

“Come here,” Gavriel finally said, his voice low.

She moved forward gradually, each careful step, with the tension between them as tight as a bowstring.

“Sit on me.” The command sent a ripple down her spine, but she obeyed.

Carefully, Althea straddled him, her bare thighs brushing his clothed legs. Gavriel’s hands settled on her hips as he looked up at her. There was a flicker in his eyes… hunger, claim, a restrained madness he no longer tried to hide.

“You’re braver than most,” he muttered, his thumb brushing the side of her waist. “Or dumber.”

“Maybe both,” she whispered back, her voice barely steady. “You want a breeder. I’m giving you one.”

His eyes narrowed, yet he remained silent. Instead, he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was intense, fiery, and frantic, driven not only by desire but by something deeper. 

Her fingers clutch his shoulders, her skin igniting at his touch. Gavriel then slowed, his kiss lingering but his expression changing. He withdrew slightly, brow creased. He licked his lips, and his face grew tense, as if he sensed something unpleasant on her.

Althea blinked rapidly, her eyelids fluttering. “I feel… strange…” she whispered. There was an unusual sensation inside her, more intense than her typical low alcohol tolerance. Suddenly, it hit her… "Poison,” she gasped.

“Althea,” Gavriel growled, catching her as her body wavered and she nearly lost her balance. Her head rested on his shoulder, her warm breath brushing against his skin.

“No… no, no, no,” he muttered softly. He held her close, one hand supporting her head, the other wrapped around her waist. 

Who would dare do this?!”

She heard Gavriel grunt, his voice hoarse and angry.

Althea was not completely unconscious; her chest rose and fell faintly, her lashes fluttered feebly, but her limbs hung slack in his arms. Her head drooped against his shoulder, her skin hot with fever, and her pulse was slow under his hand. 

“You’re not dying on me,” he growled through gritted teeth, his voice rough with raw, primal emotion, rage and desperation.

Althea felt like she was slipping away. The room whirled around her. Her sight dimmed, and each breath became harder to take. Her body burned internally as the wine-turned-poison spread through her blood like wildfire.

Then... suddenly... she felt it...

Something sharp scraped the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder. Her eyes flew open just as she felt a sharp, piercing pain. She gasped, her fingers twitching from the shock.

“Wha-?” she tried to speak, but her voice faltered.

It wasn’t just any pain. It was a bite. His bite… Gavriel’s fangs had punctured her skin.

"Mine!" he grunted.

The heat from his mouth and the intense energy flowing through him surged into her veins like lightning. Her heart trembled and then pounded fiercely. The pain intensified, bringing with it a strange sensation… a pull, a binding. An ancient, unstoppable force.

‘Did he just mark me?’ she wondered as her body instinctively arched, caught between pain and a mysterious, indescribable emotion. He pulled back, blood at his lips, and then Althea felt a deep bond forming between them.

“You’ll survive," he muttered, breath coming fast. 

She was not dying. Feeling relieved, she smiled faintly and whispered, “Thank you.” Her vision dimmed to black but not before she heard his final vow. “Whoever dared to do this will pay! I’ll burn the world to the ground for touching what’s mine.”