Esma’s POV
The first thing that I was aware of was something heavy draped over my shoulders. It constricted my movements. The second thing that I slowly became aware of was the wall behind me.
My eyelids seemed to be too heavy to be lifted. When I tried to move, a wave of pain traveled through my body, forcing a whimper out of my lips. I instantly felt like a thousand needles were pricked on my body simultaneously.
“Esma,” a deep, manly voice rumbled over me. It took me some moments before I recognized the owner of the voice. I wanted to open my eyes to look at his beautiful face, but it seemed like a tedious job for me.
“Are you awake?” the same voice whispered. This time there was an urgency in his voice. I was only capable of whimpering in pain. My whole body seemed to be in some kind of post-burn-condition. The pain was unbearable. It made me numb.
“Esma.” His voice was gentle enough to be mistaken as a chime of the wind, “Are you in pain?” he asked. I could feel his cool minty breath on my face; it somehow calmed down my senses. A single touch from his side, and I was already melting.
“It hurts.” I somehow managed to tell him through my whimper. I felt some commotion around me but couldn’t open my eyes to look around at my surroundings.
“Open your mouth, please.” He returned after some time. This time I opened my eyes, and there he was, standing in front of me carrying a silver glass in one hand. He looked worried and scared for the first time. Worried for me?
Slowly, I turned around. He sighed, reaching up, cupping my face. He looked like he was in pain. A single tear escaped from my eye.
“It hurts me to see you like this,” he mumbled, wiping my tears. He seemed to be in thought for a moment before putting the glass on the table beside the bed.
“I can help you ease the pain,” he said after a pause.
“Then do something.” I yelped as the pain started hitting me again in the core.
“I can do the marking ritual. It will definitely dull the pain because I completed half the mating process,” he said, and I nodded quickly in desperation.
If he asked me to sell myself to the devil to dull this pain, I would do it without a thought. “Do it.”
“Are you sure? It’s not going back once it’s done. It’s…you…you will be tied with me,” he said finally, and I could feel his self-loathing for himself. Why couldn’t he see himself worthy of some love? I want to be tied to him.
“Reed!” I sobbed out and reached my hand for his face. “Do it already.”
“I can’t mark you,” he said again, but this time there was a ping of frustration in his voice. He was angry but not on me, more like at himself. “I don’t have a wolf,” he said and looked away in shame.
Fuck. Another wave of pain passed through my body, and I pursed my lips in thin line so that another whimper couldn’t escape my lips.
Reed noticed my reaction and rubbed his face in frustration. His eyes were pained and dull, as if he didn’t sleep for hours. He looked at the glass once again.
“This should work,” he mumbled to himself. “Drink this.” He took the glass from the table and brought it to my lips.
I closed my eyes and drank all the contents of the glass in one move. It tasted metallic and thick and…disgusting. I resisted my gagging reflex and continued drinking.
“What was that?” I asked after I swallowed the last drop of the fluid. He looked away sheepishly, and I swore I saw him blush. The most tyrant alpha was blushing.
“That was my blood,” he said, and I felt like I could throw up any minute. What the fuck? I am not a fucking cannibal. Even I don’t drink blood in my wolf form.
“Now, I can’t mark you, but my blood will do the same, just like how we tied the people of our pack to ourselves. You are now tied to me.” His words slowly settled in my brain. The pain started to fade, and I sighed in relief. I was feeling numb and tired suddenly, like his blood was some kind of sedative for me. He was my drug.
“Now you are tied to me, mine to cherish. Mine to take care of. Mine to love.” I dreamt of hearing those words from his lips before I collapsed into a dreamless slumber.
My eyes snapped open, and the first thing I noticed was the ceiling of the house. My breath was ragged and labored, and I was drenched in my own sweat. My mouth and throat were painfully dry, and my heart was palpitating in my chest.
It took me some moments to notice that I was not alone in my bed. I was wrapped in his strong arms. I was pressed to Reed’s chest as he slept peacefully. I glanced at him and trailed my finger down his cheek.
He was like a god, a fucking Greek god. My Adonis. Everything about him was perfect. His eyes made a fluttering movement, and I pulled my hands away.
“Good morning,” he said in a raspy tone, and for some reason, he looked extra handsome to me. I slowly sat up but instantly collapsed on the bed. I was tired, and it felt like I didn’t have enough energy to stand.
Reed’s eyes darkened before he sprinted outside and soon returned with the same silver glass in one hand. He must have seen the horror on my face because he smiled and showed me orange juice. Jeez.
“Now be a good girl and drink all of this like you drank my blood yesterday,” he said, and I could feel the ghost of the smile on his face. The bastard was enjoying it.
I glared at him before taking the glass from his hand and drinking the juice. He placed his palm over my forehead to check my temperature.
I shivered at the intensity of the sparks and the way his possessive eyes were trained on me.
“Your heat is gone,” he stated matter-of-factly while taking his hand off my forehead, but it descended to my neck, close to my heart. It was like two hearts were beating simultaneously in my chest. I was about to choke on my orange juice.
It was like his heart was beating in my chest too. We were tied together now. There was no going back from now. Instantly, I felt my chest fill up with possessiveness. It took me by surprise because I knew that this feeling didn’t belong to me. It was flowing into me from somewhere else…from him.
His ocean blue eyes blazed with the same possessiveness, proving my doubts right.
“How are you feeling, mate?” he asked gently while his eyes were still fixed on me.
“Lethargic.” I fought back a yawn.
“That is because of the blood ritual. You were out for the whole day and the night.” I looked at him, surprised. “I started to feel you were not accepting my blood to complete the ritual.” His eyes dimmed with pain for a second.
There he was again. Self-doubting himself. Sometimes, he made me stunned at how he showed hatred for himself. I didn’t know how I got so much courage because the next moment I lifted my hand and touched his face; he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.
“Are you hungry?” he asked finally.
“Very.” And I didn’t know if I was referring to the food.
He looked at me intensely for a full-length second, and I blushed under his gaze. He nodded before walking back to the bathroom. He looked completely different and changed. He was not any cruel and tyrant alpha now; he was my mate.