Chapter 10 The Poisoned Claim
Aurelia
The night air was thick with the scent of pine, smoke, and barely restrained fury. Alpha Zhayad stood at the center of the moonlit clearing, bare-chested, his skin gleaming under the full moon like polished bronze.
Every ridge of muscle, every old scar across his torso, was on full display, a living reminder of the violence he carried and the power he commanded.
His arms hung loose at his sides, but there was nothing relaxed about him. He looked like a predator waiting for the kill. And I was the prey.
The pack formed a wide circle around us, hundreds of eyes locked on me as I walked the long path between them. There were no cheers or smiles, only stone-cold silence and the kind of stares that could peel skin from bone.
The replacement for the dress Zhayad ruined in the bedroom was supposed to be “decent.” The pack seamstress had called it traditional. But I called it ‘barely there’.
The black silk fell in heavy folds to my ankles, but the bodice was slashed open from sternum to navel, a deliberate, wide V that left the inner curves of my breasts exposed.
High slits ran up both sides to my hips, revealing flashes of thigh with every step. Intricate silver circles were cut out over the swell of my hips, framing my skin like windows, elegant, cruel, and designed to remind everyone exactly whose body they were looking at.
The wind teased the edges of the fabric, lifting it just enough to make me feel naked under a thousand judging gazes.
Alpha Zhayad’s eyes found mine the moment I stepped into the clearing.
They glowed, hard, luminous green, like twin emeralds lit from within. His gaze raked over me, stripping away every inch of silk as if it had never existed.
Heat bloomed across my chest, my throat and my cheeks, even as fresh shame twisted in my gut.
Minutes ago, in the locked heat of his bedroom, those same eyes had watched me fall apart under his tongue, his claws, his fangs.
He’d left me trembling and aching, marked from the inside and out. And now he looked at me like he was already deciding how much deeper he would carve that claim tonight.
I forced my chin up, refusing to falter. A shifter-elder broke from the crowd, an old male with silver-streaked hair and eyes like chipped obsidian. He moved with the slow certainty of ritual, holding something out before him in both hands.
A knife.
The blade was long, wickedly curved, forged of dark metal that drank the moonlight instead of reflecting it.
The hilt was wrapped in black leather and etched with ancient runes that seemed to pulse faintly. It looked ceremonial. It looked deadly.
My steps faltered. My chest tightened so hard I could barely draw breath.
What was it for?!
The elder stopped directly in front of Alpha Zhayad and offered the knife with both palms up, head bowed.
The entire pack went still.
Alpha Zhayad’s gaze never left me as he reached out and took the blade. The moonlight caught the edge, and it flashed like a promise of blood.
My heart began to pound in my chest. The claiming was supposed to be a bite, his fangs in my neck, marking me as his Luna forever.
But no one had ever mentioned a knife. And the way he held it now, testing its balance in his palm, it made my blood run cold.
Irina stood near the front of the circle, her lips peeled back in a savage grin, her fangs fully extended.
She lifted one hand and slowly flexed her claws, waving them at me like a promise of violence. The gesture was downright evil, and the shifters around her shifted uneasily but said nothing.
Alpha Zhayad ignored her. He raised the dark-bladed knife without hesitation and sliced a clean line across the center of his palm. Crimson welled immediately, so dark that it looked like his blood was a different type entirely.
He tilted his hand, letting the blood drip in heavy drops onto the packed earth at his feet. The moment the first drop hit the ground, the mate bond snapped open like a trapdoor beneath me.
It roared through my veins until all I could see, hear and feel was the Alpha with the knife in his hand.
My vision sharpened to painful clarity. I could smell every scent, every heartbeat in the crowd crashing into me at once. The silk of my dress suddenly felt like fire against my skin. I wanted to tear it off. I needed air. I needed him like I'd never needed anyone before.
My feet moved on their own, carrying me forward through the silent ring of wolves. Whispers hissed around me like wind through dead leaves.
“Look at the little witch,”
“She’s fucking dangerous, look at her eyes!”
But I couldn’t stop. An invisible force was pulling me towards him and I couldn't fight it.
When I reached him, he caught me by the throat and tilted my head to the side, exposing the frantic pulse at my neck.
“This will hurt,” he whispered, the onyx fang looking sharper and longer than I remembered it.
“And when it’s done, you won’t be the same. Keep your eyes on me, Aurelia. Do not look anywhere else. Eyes. On. Me.”
Then he leaned down and his fangs sank deep into my skin.
Pain shot through every muscle and nerve in my body. I clawed at his bare chest, my nails digging into skin, gasping against the shock of it. The pack watched in utter silence as their Alpha claimed his Luna in blood and bite.
Then the pain twisted. It melted, reshaped itself and flooded into something else, like liquid fire racing straight to my core.
Pleasure crashed over me in waves, drowning the hurt. My hips rolled shamelessly against him, seeking friction, seeking more. I lifted myself off the ground, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my aching center to the hard ridge of him through his pants.
The bond sang between us, it was demanding, and insatiable.
He gripped my hips to still me, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Aurelia, stop.”
I didn’t. I ground harder, shameless and desperate for more.
“Fuck me,” I begged hoarsely, my voice still raw from all the screaming I did in the bedroom.
“Right here and now. Please, Zhayad, touch me, ruin me, I need you inside me—”
“What is wrong with her?” a voice muttered from the crowd.
Confusion flashed across his face, it was a rare look on his face. And fleeting. His lips were stained red with my blood, his fangs still dripping.
“Aurelia, what has come over you?”
“I just need you,” I pleaded, grinding again, uncaring who saw. “I need you to fuck me. Please—”
“Lilith,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “Come take her to the healers. Something is wrong.”
Female hands seized me. They were rough, and unforgiving. I knew it was Lilith.
She yanked me off him with bruising force, my legs kicking uselessly as she hauled me backward through the crowd.
Disgusted whispers rose like smoke behind us. I could only make out a few words like “Shameless.”
“Disgrace.”
“The witch is mad.”
I was delirious, burning, every nerve screaming for release.
When we were finally out of sight of the circle, Lilith leaned close, her breath hot against my ear.
“I poisoned the tip of the blade,” she sounded like she was bragging, satisfied with what she'd done. “With a special serum for sexual stamina. It makes shifters feel uncontrollable need. Unfortunately, or…. Fortunately, your body is too weak to contain it. He’ll hate you for this humiliation in front of the entire pack. And after tonight, there will be no place left for you here.”
She shoved me forward, and the world tilted.