60 Loss of Control
Right now, I know one thing for sure—there was no sincerity in her eyes.
Only calculation.
And strangely enough, that repulsed me more than all the fights I’ve ever had with Alina.
And… my problem hadn’t gone anywhere.
There wasn’t even the slightest reaction in my pants—not a twitch—which only fueled my growing anger.
This entire situation, all of it, started to seriously get under my skin.
Alina.
Alina, Alina…
Her name echoed in my mind—again and again, like a curse I couldn’t shake.
No matter what I did, she was always there.
Pushing Randaya away rather roughly, I told her to leave. I didn’t really want to be so harsh, but the irritation I felt was hard to hide. Obviously, the brunette was hurt, but I didn’t care much anymore.
Taking the champagne that the she-wolf had kindly brought me, I started drinking straight from the bottle right there in my bedroom, cursing my fate and its twisted sense of humor.
When the bottle was finished, I decided to head to the kitchen for something stronger. But halfway there, I couldn’t resist and turned down the corridor where the servants’ rooms were.
My legs carried me to the room where my redheaded problem was sleeping.
I just stood there for a few minutes, watching Alina sleep peacefully, breathing in her pleasant scent with reverence.
In her sleep, she looked so calm, serene, and surprisingly beautiful.
I couldn’t resist the impulse and gently ran my fingers along the girl’s cheekbone down to those tempting, sweet lips.
What are you doing to me, redhead?
At my touch, she slightly parted her lips, letting out a soft moan that turned my insides upside down, making certain parts of my body react urgently.
That only angered me more. Her unconscious power over me was infuriating. I was about to pull away and leave when I heard Alina’s quiet voice.
“Wayland.”
She called me in her sleep with such a pleading yet sultry voice that all my restraints fell away. I pounced on her like a predator on its prey.
At that moment, I wanted her with a hunger that made my teeth grind, and she gave in to me, caught in a blissful half-sleep.
But when my actions grew more forceful, Alina woke up and started struggling to break free from my grip.
I gave her no chance to pull away or stop what was happening.
My desire was burning fiercely, and the wolf inside me was going wild from the closeness of my true mate—something it had longed for all these past days.
Her stubbornness and resistance only fueled the fire inside me more.
But it hardly felt like forcing her, because I could smell her growing arousal—stronger, clearer, more intense. She wanted me, yet like me, she fought this pull with all her might.
Finally surrendering to my pressure and her own desires, Alina let go of her thoughts and gave herself over to pleasure.
And I gave in to passion and let my thoughts drift away as well.
But that was a mistake...
The beast inside me had been waiting for that moment and immediately took the chance to brand her as my mate.
I don’t know how Alina was quick enough to slip off my bite, but even though the mark was faint, I did manage to leave it—and I was fully aware of what I’d done.
The shock and self-loathing overwhelmed me, along with a grudging grin from the wolf inside me. I knew exactly what the mark meant and the consequences I’d doomed her to.
Alina looked at me with horror and started hissing like a wild cat, throwing all kinds of insults I honestly deserved.
The space between us seemed to ignite with fire, lightning crackled around, the tension flared like never before—and I didn’t stay silent either.
For which I got slapped hard across my arrogant face.
No one had ever dared treat me like that outside of a fight.
I knew I had hurt her deeply—it was written all over her face, felt in the air, and scratched at my soul.
Even after the slap—one that would’ve floored most people—she looked at me without a trace of fear.
Her face was a storm of emotions: pain, anger, hatred, fury, hurt, contempt—but never fear.
I admit, no one had ever put me in my place like that—not just with a slap, but with the words that followed. She lashed out at me like with whips.
That little redhead girl DEMANDED RESPECT FROM ME!
And in my eyes, she earned it fully—more than any highborn she-wolf with noble bloodlines... even more than I respected myself.
Yes, I respected her more than myself—for her spirit, strength, and courage.
Her eyes held pain and unshed tears, yet she met my gaze proudly, without lowering her eyes.
A true Luna. My mate.