A new day, a new Celeste. Last night before bed, she had concluded that she'd hate Zillon for the rest of her life. She wouldn't forgive him ever, not only because he cheated on her, but because he *cheated* on her while she was in heat. She had begged him, she remembered...she had cried to him as well, and he had made it his point to ignore her. It had been her very first time experiencing such a torturous thing, it was painful, mind numbing and she wouldn't in her entire life want to relive it again. But perhaps it wouldn't have hurt so much if Zillon had done his part. If he hadn't marked her, such pain would've never been bestowed upon her in the first place, and despite that, he had the audacity to treat her unfairly. She hated him! She hated him so god damn much...and that's why she got up this morning and made noodle for only herself. He had told her not to touch his food, and she wouldn't, so it's either he ate it raw, ask Celia to come cook for him o

Celeste hollered out, her eyes running hot and boiling tears. Her body —naked, completely bare to the world— felt heavy, her mind too...and it was all because of the heat she was presently in. It felt even worst than the first time and just like then, Zillon had left before she even woke up. Today was a Sunday, the day that all pack men went out to hunt. Those who are unmated for themselves and those mated for their mates. But instead of bringing her back meat, Celeste hoped that he'd bring back a sense of understanding, of sympathy. She was in pain, his mate was in pain. All it took to help her was his touch. Would he be selfish like last time? Would he let her suffer? Celeste was certain he would and she feared that more than anything else. For how would she get rid of this heat if he didn't touch her? It didn't work when she touched herself and moreover, she hated doing it. It made her feel vulnerable, weak and shameless. This heat made her do things s

Celeste nodded, groaning breathlessly. "I'll do any—anything you want me to." She stretched out her arm, reaching for him. "Just please...touch me." Zillon stepped back over to the bed, sitting at the very edge of it. He was feeling a little uncomfortable as if he was about to do something wrong, but somehow, something inside of him told him that it was the right thing to do. Perhaps it was the beast inside of him, or the matebond that was strong enough to almost control him. He wasn't sure what it was, but it egged him on, it made lust travel from the depths of his mind to the tip of his c*ck. "Have you ever done this before?" He asked, words coming out in a coarsed yet subdued tone. Celeste shook her head, writhing against the bed. "My first kiss, my virginity...everything was saved for you. Nobody but my parents and you have ever seen me naked. I-I'm all yours." A growl seeped through Zillon's lips, his eyes flashing to orange for a second before turning b

Zillon woke up in a room that did not belong to him, but it didn't take him long to realize where he was. He was laying on Celeste's bed, covered in her sheets, dying happily in her scent. Last night was a blast that he'd never forget; the fresh smell of her desperation, her sweat and even her cum. He had never experience such a pleasurable night in his life. Everything was in place, every move, every moan she made pleased him greatly. He could still remember how tight she locked around him, how warm, how heavenly she had felt. Goddess, she was everything he needed, she had hugged him so tight, pulled him so close, clawed his back and cried out his name so many times. It was maddening in a way he couldn't explain. A good way, a way that was gratifying. Breathing in, his arm that was already locked around her pulled her even closer, enjoying the warmth that radiated from her flawless skin. Her breaths were even, her body calm, she must be in a rather deep

Zillon looked back at his house one more time before taking on the road. He didn't know why, but his guts, or rather his instinct kept telling him to go back. Celeste had seem different when she walked pass him. There was no life in her eyes, and her face reflected nothing but pain. His heart honestly ached when he saw her like that, but what else could he do? Giving her hope would be even more painful, it would destroy her, well that's if she wasn't destroyed already. Sorrow clouded his vision when he thought of it. Since the very moment she stepped into the house, he was bad to her. He treated her as if she was nobody and then blamed it on the fact that she was weak. But it wasn't her who was weak, it was him. He was unable to sort out his feelings, unable to choose, unable to be honest with himself. That poor girl had done so much for him since she moved in. She wanted to see him happy, and yet all he did was make her sad. He regretted his actions, and the