Chapter 205 A brother’s betrayal

Chapter 205 A brother’s betrayal
The next morning felt wrong from the moment I woke up.

Maybe it was because I had barely slept.

Maybe it was because every time I closed my eyes I saw the black velvet box sitting in the drawer beside our bed.

Or maybe it was because I knew something was coming.

The kind of certainty that settles deep in your bones before your mind catches up.

Beside me, Darius was already awake.

His arm rested across my waist, heavy and warm.

For a moment I allowed myself to enjoy it.

The steady rise and fall of his chest.

The quiet comfort of his presence.

The illusion that things were normal.

Then reality returned.

My sister’s claw.

Faruk’s voice.

The threat.

The secret sitting like poison inside my chest.

Darius pressed a kiss against my shoulder.

“You’re thinking about something.”

A weak laugh escaped me.

“Is that a wolf thing to know whenever your mate is in deep thought?”

“It’s a mate thing.”

I rolled onto my back.

He studied my face carefully.

The concern there almost broke me.

God.

I hated lying to him.

“I have meetings all morning,” he said.

“The Blood Guard commanders?”

He nodded.

“Every regional unit head is attending.”

That explained the suit hanging near the closet.Darius looked tired.The kind of tired that came from carrying entire packs on your shoulders.

I reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

“You should sleep.”

He snorted.

“You first.”

I pulled my hand back, tucking it against my chest. "I can't." The admission slipped out before I could stop it, and I hated how small it sounded, how it revealed the restless knot that had taken residence in my chest.

His mouth curved into that familiar predatory smile, the one that made my stomach tighten in ways I refused to examine. "I know something that will help put you to sleep." The words were a low murmur against my ear, and as he shifted closer, I felt it,his rod pressing hard and insistent against my thigh through the thin cotton of my pajama shorts. My breath caught, a sharp little hiccup I couldn't suppress.

He moved before I could formulate a protest, rolling his weight on top of me with a fluid grace that spoke of practiced strength. His hips settled between my thighs, pinning me to the mattress, and his mouth found the curve of my neck. The first kiss was deceptively gentle, his lips warm and soft against my pulse point. Then his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and a shiver raced down my spine, pooling low in my belly. I tilted my head back against the pillow an involuntary surrender and his tongue traced a wet path along my throat, tasting the salt of my skin.

His mouth traveled lower, dragging across my collarbone with open-mouthed kisses that left my skin damp and cooling in the night air. When he reached my breasts, I was already arching into him, my body betraying me with its eagerness. He pulled the loose neckline of my tank top down, freeing one breast, and his tongue circled my nipple once, twice, before his lips closed around it. A soft sound escaped me half gasp, half moan as he sucked, his teeth scraping the puckered flesh just hard enough to send a jolt of electricity straight between my legs. He gave the same attention to my other breast, kneading the first with his broad hand while his mouth worked, and I could feel myself growing wet, my pussy aching with a hollow emptiness that demanded to be filled.

His hand slid down my stomach, fingers tracing the strip of bare skin above my waistband before slipping beneath the fabric of my shorts. No hesitation, no asking just his calloused fingertips brushing through the dark curls between my thighs and finding my clit with unerring accuracy. He flicked the swollen bud once, and my hips jerked off the mattress. He did it again, a slow, deliberate stroke that made me whimper, and then his fingers settled into a rhythm, circling and pressing in just the right way to make my thighs tremble on either side of his hips.

Just when the pressure began to build toward something overwhelming, he pushed one finger inside me. My inner walls clenched around the intrusion, slick and yielding, and he curled his finger upward, stroking that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. His mouth found mine again, swallowing the moan that rose in my throat. The kiss was deep and consuming, his tongue pushing past my lips in a rhythm that matched his finger, and I was drowning in sensation,the wet slide of his mouth, the relentless pressure between my legs, the heavy weight of his body holding me down.

A second finger joined the first, stretching me open, and he fucked me with his hand in slow, deliberate strokes.

The sound was obscene wet, slick noises that filled the quiet room, punctuated by my ragged breathing and the soft creak of the bedsprings. I could feel it building, that tightening coil low in my belly, my clit throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I was so close, teetering on the very edge, my hands fisting in the sheets beside me

He pulled his fingers free, and I made a sound of pure frustration, my hips chasing his hand. But he was already moving, shoving his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head glistening with precum, and he positioned himself between my spread thighs. The blunt tip pressed against my entrance, and he pushed slowly,so slowly,inside. My body resisted for just a moment before yielding, opening around him inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt, his hips flush against mine.

He held there, letting me feel the fullness, the stretch, the way my pussy spread around his girth. Then he began to thrust, a slow, measured rhythm that drove me mad with its deliberate pace. Each stroke pressed deep, dragging against my front wall before pulling almost completely out, only to sink back in with agonizing slowness. His mouth found mine again, kissing me with the same unhurried intensity, swallowing every gasp and whimper

His hands found my wrists, his long fingers wrapping around them easily, and he pinned them above my head against the pillow. The position arched my back, pressing my breasts against his chest, and I was utterly trapped held down by his weight, his hands, his cock buried inside me. I couldn't move, couldn't do anything except take what he was giving me, and some traitorous part of me thrilled at the helplessness, at the way he owned every inch of my body in this moment.

The golden light from the window painted stripes across his shoulders as they flexed with each thrust, and I watched the muscles in his back shift beneath his skin. His dark eyes bore into mine, watching every flicker of pleasure cross my face, cataloging every reaction. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies the slap of skin against skin, the wet squelch of his cock sliding in and out of my drenched pussy, my breathless moans and his low, satisfied grunts.

He maintained that maddeningly slow pace, each thrust a complete sentence, a declaration of possession. My wrists strained against his grip, not trying to escape but needing something to anchor myself as the pleasure built again, cresting higher than before. The coil in my belly wound tighter and tighter, my inner walls clenching around him, and I knew I was about to cum harder than I had in my entire life.

The coil inside me wound tighter, every nerve drawn toward that shattering edge. My back arched off the

mattress, thighs trembling around Darius's hips as the orgasm built right there, right fucking there his name catching in my throat like a prayer I'd never meant to say.

Then the world spun.

His hands clamped around my waist and flipped me like I weighed nothing. My stomach hit the sheets, the air punching from my lungs, and before I could brace myself, his palm pressed between my shoulder blades and shoved my face into the pillow. The cotton was cool against my flushed cheek, muffling my gasp. I clawed at the sheets, fingers twisting in the fabric, and the golden light from the window painted stripes across my bare back.

His weight settled over me, pinning me flat. One knee nudged my thighs apart,rough, impatient,and then the blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance from behind. No warning. No pause. He drove into me in one long, brutal thrust that punched the air from my lungs and forced a broken sound from my throat into the pillow.

The angle was different like thisdeeper, more unforgiving. My body stretched around him, still swollen and sensitive from before, and every inch of him dragged against that spot inside me that made my vision blur. I bit down on the pillow, tasting detergent and my own salt, as he pulled back and slammed home again.

His hands found my hips. Not gentle possessive. His fingers dug into my flesh hard enough that I knew I'd see the marks tomorrow, purple and perfect against my skin. He held me in place, immobile, as he set a pace that made the bed frame shudder against the wall.

Each thrust drove my face further into the pillow. The cotton muffled my moans, but I couldn't have stayed quiet if I'd tried. My body was betraying me again, clenching around him, my hips rising to meet his despite every defiant thought screaming in my head. The wet sound of him fucking into me filled the room obscene and undeniable mingling with the slap of his thighs against mine.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against my back, and his breath was hot against my ear. "That's it," he growled, his voice low and rough, barely more than a rumble I felt in my bones. "Take it. Take every fucking inch."

I whimpered into the pillow, my fingers white-knuckled in the sheets.

"You're so wet for me," he continued, his hips snapping forward with each word, punctuating the filth with his body. "Dripping all over my cock like you were made for this." His teeth grazed the shell of my ear, and a shudder rippled through me. "Made for me."

His rhythm turned savage. The measured control from before was gone, replaced by something raw and desperate like he couldn't get deep enough, couldn't claim me thoroughly enough to satisfy whatever hunger drove him. The headboard cracked against the wall. The sheets twisted under my grip. My knees scraped against the mattress as he yanked my hips back to meet each punishing thrust.

"I'm going to fill you up," he breathed against my neck, his lips brushing my sweat-damp skin. "Pump you so full of my cum it'll be dripping out of you for days." His hand slid from my hip to my stomach, pressing flat, holding me against him as he drove deeper. "And you're going to take it all, aren't you little hybrid? Every last drop."

A sob tore from my throat pleasure or anguish, I couldn't tell anymore. The orgasm he'd denied me before was rebuilding, coiling tighter with every brutal snap of his hips. My walls fluttered around him, clenching and releasing, and I felt him throb inside me in response.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, the words dripping like honey and venom. "Squeeze my cock just like that. Show me how much you love being fucked by me."

I was pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, chasing the release he'd stolen from me moments ago.

His hand moved from my stomach to my hair, fisting the long dark strands and wrenching my head back. The pillow fell away, and my gasp echoed off the bedroom walls raw and desperate.

"Look at you," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. " Tell me you love it."

I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper.

"Tell me," he repeated, and his free hand came down hard on my ass,the crack of the slap ringing through the room, the sting blooming across my skin. My back arched, a moan spilling from my lips before I could stop it.

"Say it," he demanded, his pace never faltering, each thrust punctuating the command.

"I…" The words caught in my throat, defiance and desire warring on my tongue. "I love it."

"Louder."

"I love it and, I want it!" The confession tore from me, ragged and honest, and I felt him throb inside me again, his rhythm stuttering for just a moment before he resumed with even greater ferocity.

His grip on my hair tightened, pulling my head back further, exposing the line of my throat. "That's right," he growled against my ear. "You want my cum inside you. You want me to breed this pretty pussy until you're overflowing with me."

The coil snapped.

My orgasm crashed through me like a wave breaking against rocks,violent and absolute. My walls clamped down around him, spasming, pulling him deeper as I screamed into the empty room. My vision went white, my body shaking beneath him, every muscle tensing and releasing in waves of pure, devastating pleasure.

He followed me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips slamming forward one final time and holding. I felt him pulse inside me, hot and thick, filling me exactly like he'd promised. His hands bruised my hips as he ground himself deeper, making sure every drop stayed where he wanted it.

The room fell silent except for our ragged breathing. The golden light had shifted, casting longer shadows across the rumpled sheets. His weight was still on me, pressing me into the mattress, his softening cock still buried inside me. I could feel his release leaking out around him, warm against my thighs.

I lay there, face turned to the side now, My body hummed with aftershocks, tiny tremors that made my breath catch. His lips brushed,my shoulder almost gentle, almost tender and I closed my eyes slowly drifting to sleep.

A few hours later he was gone.

The pack house felt strangely empty without him.

I spent the rest of the morning trying and failing to focus.

Every report I opened blurred together.

Every conversation sounded distant.

By noon I was sitting alone in one of the upstairs offices staring at the same paragraph for nearly ten minutes when my phone rang from a text I received.

It was a text from Faruk talking about meeting to talk.

Faruk’s skyscraper dominated the city skyline.

Glass.

Steel.

Power.

The building rose above every surrounding structure like a monument to control.

As my vehicle approached, I found myself staring up at the top floors disappearing into the clouds.

I hated this place.

Everything about it felt cold.

Calculated.

Like Faruk himself.

The elevator ride seemed endless.

By the time the doors finally opened on the highest level, my nerves were stretched painfully tight.

His assistant greeted me immediately.

“Luna Lyra.”

Professional smile.

Perfect posture.

Empty eyes.

“This way.”

The office occupied nearly the entire floor.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city.

Dark wood.

Black marble.

Modern luxury wrapped around political power.

And standing beside the massive windows—

Faruk.

He turned when I entered.

The familiar smile on his face made my stomach drop.

Because it looked genuine.

Warm.

Almost affectionate.

Wrong.

Everything about it was wrong.

“Lyra.”

His voice sounded pleasant.

Friendly.

Like we were old friends.

Like he hadn’t threatened my sister.

Like he hadn’t mailed me a severed claw.

I forced my expression into neutrality.

“You wanted to see me.”

Faruk gestured toward a seating area.

“Coffee?”

“No.”

His smile widened slightly.

“Straight to business then.”

I remained standing.

So did he.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

The city stretched endlessly beyond the windows behind him.

Thousands of lives moving below.

Completely unaware of the monster standing in front of me.

Faruk folded his hands behind his back.

“I’ve been concerned.”

I nearly laughed.

Concerned.

The audacity.

“About?”

“You.”

His tone remained gentle.

“I know you’ve been searching for your sister.”

My pulse quickened.

Careful.

Don’t react.

Faruk studied me quietly.

Then sighed.

“I imagine that must be difficult.”

I wanted to rip his throat out.

Instead I said:

“If that’s all—”

“It isn’t.”

The warmth vanished from his eyes.

Not completely.

Just enough.

A glimpse beneath the mask.

Faruk walked toward his desk.

Opened a drawer.

Removed something small.

My beast immediately became alert.

Danger.

Danger.

Danger.

Faruk returned holding a rectangular metal container.

Silver.

Cold.

Frost coated the sides.

My pulse began hammering.

No.

No no no.

He placed it carefully on the table between us.

Then stepped back.

“Go ahead.”

I didn’t move.

Faruk smiled.

“You’ll want to see this.”

Every instinct screamed at me to leave.

Instead my legs carried me forward.

The container felt freezing beneath my fingers.

The lid opened with a soft metallic click.

And the world stopped.

Ice.

Inside the container sat a block of crystal-clear ice.

Suspended within it

A claw.

Long.

Sharp.

Blood-stained.

The scent hit me instantly.

My sister.

My twin.

God.

My knees nearly gave out.

The scent was unmistakable.

Familiar enough to rip straight through my chest.

I knew it better than my own.

The room blurred briefly around the edges.

Faruk watched me carefully.

Observing.

Measuring.

Enjoying.

“You recognize it.”

Not a question.

I closed the container immediately.

Too late.

The damage was already done.

My hands shook.

Rage surged violently through every part of me.

I wanted to kill him.

Right there.

In the middle of his office.

I imagined launching across the room.

Imagined tearing him apart.

But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Because my sister was still alive.

Somewhere.

And he knew where.

Faruk leaned against the edge of his desk.

Completely relaxed.

“As you can see, she’s surviving.”

My vision sharpened dangerously.

“Where is she?”

“No.”

The answer came instantly.

Effortlessly.

Faruk wasn’t even pretending.

“I don’t think so.”

I took a step forward.

His security team would be nearby.

We both knew it.

Neither of us cared.

“Tell me.”

Faruk’s eyes hardened.

“You’re in no position to make demands.”

Silence stretched between us.

Tight.

Dangerous.

Then he sighed.

Almost sadly.

“You’re making this difficult.”

I stared at him.

“I know you have her! Where is my sister! ”

His smile returned.Cold this time.

I wanted to scream. I felt myself begin shifting  

Instead I forced myself to breathe.

Think.

Control.

The Siberian training.

Yelena’s voice echoed inside my head.

Anger makes people predictable.

Faruk studied me carefully.

Then nodded.

As if pleased.

“There she is.”

The comment made my stomach twist.

“What do you want?”

At last.

The real conversation.

Faruk straightened.

The warmth disappeared entirely now.

No more pretending.

No more family concern.

“I sent you a warning.”

Silence.

Then quietly:

“The next one won’t be a claw.”

The threat settled heavily between us.

Real.

Absolute.

For the first time since entering the office, genuine fear twisted through my chest.

NOTE: BOOK TWO HAS BEEN POSTED