Mouthy

Draco.

“What finally made you change your mind? Earlier, you insisted you’d never have her, Dracolian,” Alfos stated as he barged into Draco’s study with him.

He noticed the rigid posture of his body and wondered what was going on. “You still assume it’s her?” Alfos huffed. “Dracolian, you should know better than to assume anything like that considering the investigations we’ve made. That breeder is just a twenty-five-year-old human who grew up in Brindlemark with her family before being taken as a whore in Kalingrad.”

“I’m not deluding myself,” Draco hissed as he turned to face Alfos. He huffed a breath and ran his hands roughly through his hair. “That female out there is nothing like her. And will never be. It’s been so many years after all. Dita is dead. I know that more than anyone. I buried her myself.” He bit his lips, strolling past Alfos.

The beta turned to look at Draco’s rigid form, nodding his head. They’d better accept the truth and live their lives the way it was before this breeder came into the picture.

“What then made you change your mind about keeping her as your breeder instead of allowing Takoda to breed her on your behalf?”

Draco winced faintly at Alfos’ words, although the beta didn’t notice it. Unclenching his teeth, he gave Alfos a detached look over his shoulder and muttered.

“Why else except to make her pay? The breeder called me a monster. I thought it wise to show her what it truly means to be one.” The dark look on Draco’s face made Alfos step back a little. It had been ages since he saw such a crazed look on the lord’s face.

However, he laughed, loving this new side of Draco. “With all pleasure, have fun with this new whore as much as it makes you happy.”

“You get it, right?” Draco hummed, feeling satisfied. He crossed over to his desk, settling on it. He returned his gaze back at Alfos and commanded. “Did you later bring the person?” He asked, earning a nod from Alfos. Draco spat out more. “Very well then, tell Roga about starting a training session for the mouthy…”

“Mouthy?” Alfos asked, interrupting Draco. “You’ve given her a name already?” He chuckled.

“It’s nothing special. She deserves the name seeing how her mouth always kept running.” A strange look crossed Draco’s eyes as he added. “But don’t worry, by the time I’m done with her, she won’t have any strength to speak further.”

Pleased, Alfos nodded. “I’ll inform Roga immediately about the breeder’s training,” Alfos turned to leave but Draco called.

“Alfos,” The beta turned to him, hiking a brow. “Instruct the sentinels to bring her to me,”

Draco soon relaxed back in his chair, keeping his leg over the desk as he waited for the breeder. He felt anxious about being in her presence.

 As much as he knew the female would eventually die, he was prepared to torture her before she joined his nine dead Lunas. He somehow winced at the thought.

Isolde’s expression back at the courtroom filtered through his mind. He hated how pained she felt after his declaration of claiming her.

So, she wanted Takoda to have her? What a whore! Draco balled his hands into fists as thoughts ravaged his mind. He remembered every curve and dip of her body.

It all enticed him. The swell of her breasts. Her navel and belly button. Draco hated to say this, but for the first time in over sixty years, he found a female attractive again.

He’d been too into males that he’d forgotten what it was like to be hard at the sight of a woman’s nakedness.

Yet, Draco couldn’t understand what was different about her. None of his nine dead Lunas had such a strong impact on him until the fiery raven-haired. The whore!

Remembering how Takoda thrust his fingers inside her body, Draco growled. How did it feel to touch a female’s body? It had been so long that he couldn’t remember the details.

The few touches, skin to skin, his dead Lunas left on him brought nothing but dark memories.

Voices echoed down the hall that led to his study, followed by the thuds of feet. He leaped to his feet, knowing it was her. As usual, her mouth was blabbering threatening words at the sentinels.

“You! I mean you! What is your name? Ha! I’m going to kill you!” She threatened fearlessly.

Draco shook his head as he grasped his gloves and wore them. Wearing his armor and gloves that covered his skin was the best way a touch wouldn’t trigger his monster.

Although many people already knew him as the cursed lord, some literally believed it was just some rumor because, in truth, no one had seen Draco’s monster, save for Alfos and three other males.

He'd have worn a helmet too, but he decided against it. A knock came on the door, and he answered with a hoarse voice.

“Here’s your order, my lord,” One of the sentinels said, pushing Isolde to the floor. They exited and shut the door.

The lord shifted from his stead, turning to look at her. Her gaze was sharp, complete fire and brimstone, it singed his skin.

“You monster,” She growled, wobbling as she tried to rise to her feet. The moment she stood, Draco ran his eyes down her body, remembering how it looked flat-out naked.

He never knew a whore could be this sexy until Isolde, and gods be damned, he hated that he liked it.

 “Isn’t it petty of you to keep a woman against her will?” She rolled her arms across her chest. A hiss escaped her. “You know staying with that elder would’ve been better than being with you.”

A growl tore from Draco’s lips as he stood. “One more word, and I’ll have your tongue cut, female. Just one more word.”

Isolde reared back in shock. He oozed darkness at the moment. Violence shone in his eyes she nearly went to her knees. She would have pushed his button more, but the thought of returning to her parents and sister in Brindlemark held her back. Her poor parents might have a heart attack if they see her tongue cut.

“I guess you know better than to dare me, female,” He stated, running his eyes over her body. When they trailed up to meet hers, Draco’s heart nearly stopped.

She had almost the same eyes as her, he thought. The urge to reach out brimmed him. He wanted to touch those eyes so badly.

Don’t, he told himself as he reined in his control.

“You might assume it’s over, but it’s not,” Isolde’s words snapped him back into reality. He cast her a look, frowning. “I am not some weak female you can overpower.” Isolde bounced closer and spat. “I’ll kill you before you kill me!”

“Ha!” Draco chuckled humorlessly. He loved the challenge, and instantly he slipped out his dagger and presented it to her. “Take it. Do your worst…”

Without wasting a breath, Isolde snatched the dagger from the desk, lunging it at his ribs. However, his gloved hands stopped her movement before the dagger could thrust home.

In a rage, Draco twisted Isolde’s hand behind her back. A warbled cry left her lips, and her eyes moistened. Her back pressed against his armor as he grumbled behind her.

“Four females have tried to kill me, mouthy…” She bucked in his hold, but Draco gritted his teeth, holding on tight. His inside bloated with desire at her luscious scent. “But do you know what happened to them?”

“I do not care!” She hissed.

Ignoring her, he continued. “I tore into their soul. Ripped their flesh piece by brutal piece. Shredded their bones and crunched them under my feet. The same fate will meet you If you ever think of killing me.”

He pushed her away, and Isolde hobbled, falling to the floor. With watery eyes, she stared back at him and cursed. “You’ll die with your curse!”

Her words crushed Draco’s soul, wounding him. The words had never hurt him like this until now. He stared at Isolde with a dark look crossing his eyes, but when he blinked, the look vanished like it was never there before.

“Unfortunately, female, you won’t be alive to witness it.” He gave her a dark taunting grin as Isolde’s eyes turned wide.

Draco approached his desk and pulled out a parchment. He strutted back to where Isolde sat askew on the floor and threw the parchment at her.

“What’s this?” She asked, giving him a look.

“Open it, female.” He ordered.

Isolde sat well on the floor and unfolded the parchment. Seeing what was inside, her eyes widened.

TBC.