42- Scar of Desire
POV Lunara Grimwald:
He laughed and applauded, as if I had just told a funny joke.
"Do you know what will happen?" he asked, still smiling. I shook my head. "I will mark you again, and again and again. There's no way you'll be able to walk around without my mark and my scent."
I lifted my wineglass and turned my body to the side.
"Is that so? And why?"
"Because you belong to me from the moment we mated. And there is no other male in the world who will touch you, not while I am alive." He widened his eyes mockingly. "And, as annoying as it sounds, if I die, you die too, so…"
He wasn't jealous of me, nor did he care about the possibility that I might let another touch me. Edric was an alpha, and wolves were extremely territorial. He had me as his property; thus, the mere mention of another male touching me irritated him. It was instinctual, part of his nature.
"You can try," I retorted, emptying the glass.
"As I said, you will never touch me again. And, luckily, my wolf thinks the same for the moment, so there's no way I will lose control this time."
"Is that a challenge, little wolf?"
I shrugged and rose from the table, mirroring his posture. I noticed the way his eyes ran over my body, analyzing every curve the dress accentuated, lingering on the deep neckline that exposed my breasts.
"Look as you wish."
As long as my animal part was angry at his actions, I would have some freedom to act. She cared about him, even liked him.
"I will teach you that you should never, under any circumstances, challenge me," he growled, and in the blink of an eye he was in front of me, circling the table with his inhuman speed.
"If you touch me, Edric, things will get very bad," I accused, feeling the heat intensify inside me — partly from his proximity and partly from the anger that flowed from my wolf.
He extended his arm, very slowly, as if testing her reaction, and then took the back of my neck. I fell silent, pressing my lips into a thin line and breathing heavily. He tilted my neck to the side, exposing the damaged skin more clearly. I noticed the silver in his eyes expand, overtaking the deep blue. He inhaled, flaring his nostrils, and let out a growl at the absence of his scent on me.
There was still some trace left, but very little.
"I can't believe you had the nerve to wound yourself like that."
"Physical wounds are easy to heal," I hissed.
The touch of his hand on my skin was feverish. And I hated that I liked the comforting heat of his fingers.
He brought his mouth to my neck and an involuntary growl thundered through my chest.
"Calm down, little wolf, I'm only going to heal this," he whispered, his warm breath hitting my skin.
I remained motionless, completely rigid.
He stuck his tongue out and licked the wound. I felt the rough, hot, wet touch. I trembled and clung tighter to the table. His healing saliva began to tingle on my skin, numbing some parts.
He licked again, eagerly, as if he enjoyed the act.
My core tightened. I squeezed my thighs together when I felt my pussy pulse. I closed my eyes and started intoning in my head, recalling everything he had done to me and all the obvious reasons not to feel attracted to him, much less to get aroused.
The tongue dragged across the sensitive surface, leaving a wet trail of warm spit. The fingers around the back of my neck squeezed hard.
I inhaled sharply, smelling the scent of arousal in the air. And it wasn't only mine—Edric was as shaken as I was.
He licked me a few more times before pulling away.
I stared at him; his eyes shone, full of excitement. He smiled, one dark eyebrow arched.
"I'm going to mark you again, little wolf."
I blinked, clearing my mind and focusing on what really mattered.
"I already told you, Edric, you can try."
He ran his tongue over his wet lips, the incisive smile never leaving his face.
"And when I do it, you'll never dare take my mark off again."
"I'd pay to see that," I spat.
He put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and laughed, loving the challenge I'd thrown. Spinning on his heels, he walked toward the stairs.
"Didn't anyone tell you anything today?" I asked, unable to contain myself.
Still with his back turned, he stopped on the first step of the stairs and replied over his shoulder:
"Just that... there were some problems with your cakes. I hope you get it right next time; my wolves like good quality food."
I clenched my fists at my sides with so much hatred that I swore I would transform right there in the middle of the house, out of control. Power trembled in the air. He felt it, because the muscles across his back stiffened.
Saying nothing and ignoring my little lapse into rage, he went back up the steps. This time, I didn't stop him.
I looked at my reflection in the window glass. My neck was smooth, without any sign of what had happened, as if I had never ripped a piece of skin away.
I looked at the heads he had left for me as a gift. They disgusted me.
I let out a low hiss, cursing all the generations before him and the ones that would never be, since I couldn't have offspring.
I went to the decapitated heads and threw them to the floor, pushing them away from the sideboard, irritated and out of control. I stopped, breathing rapidly, furious.
That damned alpha, arrogant and overbearing. He would never mark me again. Never again.