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Draco.
"No, that's going to be too risky," Draco immediately countered, shaking his head as he moved away from the window.
His inner mind hated the idea of setting a trap for her. There was no way Isolde was a Wraithling. A beast. For all Draco knew, he was the first beast to ever exist. The abbot mentioned that to him after his first shift into a Wraithling years back.
He was the first of his kind, Draco was certain about that.
"Why? This is our only chance to prove this isn't a rare curse, Dracolian. Don't you see?" Alfos hissed, stepping further into the room.
The cool air quickly shifted into something hot as Draco paced, trying to come up with words that showed his disagreement with Alfos's suggestion.
"She might die, Alfos! I can't do that to her!" He yelled, glaring at Alfos.
Draco wasn't sure what kind of trap Alfos was suggesting they set for Isolde, but whichever one it was, he didn't support it. His heart couldn't stand it. Right now, it was nearly hammering out of control.
"Die? Is that what you're worried about?" Alfos was shocked to hear that from Draco. He took his time to assess Draco, and surprisingly, Draco's body language revealed he wasn't ordinarily unsettled about the idea. It was because he was worried about Isolde.
The realization made Alfos take staggering steps backward. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. This wasn't the Draco he knew.
What had changed?
"You've never cared whether any of your lunas die or live. They all die eventually. But now you seem to care about that female? What has changed?" Alfos advanced closer to Draco. He wheezed and said again, "Do you feel anything for her, Draco?"
He bristled at those words, practically offended that Alfos would ask him such a silly, unrealistic question about having feelings for any female.
"You seem to forget I've only loved one female all my life, Alfos. You seem to forget the vows I took on her grave. I won't love any other female except her. What in the seven gods makes you think I'll ever fall for her?"
Yet Alfos found it incredibly hard to believe what Draco was saying. Draco was a man of few words. Since Alfos knew him, he had never bothered to defend himself on anything at all. But right now, Draco was trying to defend himself by denying whatever he felt for the breeder.
"Don't lie to me, Dracolian," he slowly uttered, earning a scoff from Draco.
"Do you need me to prove that female doesn't mean anything to me?" He asked, glaring at Alfos, who blinked at the sternness of his words. Draco's voice rattled his bones, and he quivered.
When Alfos didn't respond, Draco hissed. He rubbed at the skin between his brows and sighed. "You know what? Set whatever trap you wish to set for her, but I assure you that female is only a human and nothing else. I hope she doesn't die before I can breed her. The blood summit is just around the corner."
There was anger in his voice as he spoke, and immediately he was done vomiting all the words out, Draco whirled around and exited his chamber, leaving Alfos there as he slammed the door.
He was angry. So furious, and he couldn't tell why. How could Alfos accuse him of feeling something for another female?
That was absurd!
Draco knew he would never reduce himself to loving that female.
Even though you can't forget the way she squirmed while you fucked her with your dagger? A voice spoke in his mind.
Even though you can't stop smelling the hilt of your dagger just to remind yourself of her sweet scent? Even though you've stroked your dick tirelessly whenever your nose was buried deep into the hilt of your dagger?
Draco groaned at those reminders. He paused along the hall, ignoring the servants zipping past him, as he faced the wall and landed a jarring punch on it. The impact left a crack on the wall.
Draco's mind felt full as were his veins. That was his little secret. The little strokes he'd give himself at night thinking about her, smelling her scent. Lately, he always awoke with jizz drenching his shorts. It happened that he used to have wet dreams about her.
"Fucking cunt!" He cursed under his breath. He'd never try that again. In fact, he'd find a means to prove Alfos wrong today. He didn't feel shit for her. He wanted nothing with her.
And yet you marked her. What was the word again? Aye, Mine, the voice taunted him again.
Gritting his teeth, Draco walked outside.
Soft shrieks of laughter filled his ears when he walked outside. It was melodious. A song to his ears. He looked around to know who that was. To his shock, he saw Isolde laughing at whatever Carldo was telling her.
Her hands casually flailed in the air the harder she laughed, listened, and watched Carldo dancing and twirling before her. There was this unguarded look in her eyes. At this point, her shields were down. That fiery look he always saw in her eyes whenever she was speaking to him wasn't there. Just soft undertone and carefreeness.
Draco hated that Carldo was the first person to witness that side of her. He balled his fists, watching them.
Carldo gave a few more twirls and said amid laughter, "I mean it, my lady. I can teach you,"
He stretched his hand, waiting for Isolde to grab it. She blushed a little. Draco swore under his breath, his chest swelling with rage and something else.
Jealousy?
No, he couldn't be jealous of anything, he reminded himself.
But the moment he saw Isolde grasp Carldo's hand and stand pressed to his chest with his hand circling her waist, Draco lost control of his reasoning.
His heart bumped with ferocity against his chest as he growled. The sound halted everyone on the castle ground.
Carldo and Isolde whipped their eyes toward his direction. They were so shocked they couldn't even move.
Carldo's eyes were wide the size of saucers. Tanned skin lost its color, turning ghastly pale.
"Get your hands off her," Draco commanded, his face deadpan.
Without meaning to, Carldo peed himself. His jittery hands left Isolde's body, and he put a huge gap between them. Carldo went to his knees, begging.
"Forgive me, my lord. I swear it, I didn't mean anything wrong. I was only teaching my lady our traditional dance." He uttered gibberishly as Draco stepped closer. "Please, my lord. Don't punish me, please..."
Tears stained his cheeks. Eyes shuttered when Draco stepped into his space. The lord leaned in and declared.
"Before even the slightest flick of your skin would touch her, you'll come to me and seek permission,"
"Aye, my lord. I wouldn't do it again. I promise,"
Draco stood back straight and gestured for him to leave. Carldo ran off like a scared cat while Draco turned to face the bewildered Isolde.
"Really? You're scaring my very own servant?"
Ignoring her, he spat. "I want to see you in the pit in the next ten minutes. That's where you should be," not here flirting with Carldo, he said this under his breath.
By the time he looked into her eyes again, the fire had returned.
"Why?" She hissed.
"Because it's your duty as the soon-to-be Luna,"
Draco turned to leave after saying that, but he saw Edrand shoving out of the tower. His hair was messy. Scooting over, Draco clasped Edrand into his arms, saying it loud enough for Isolde to hear.
"Let's go for the match together, beloved."
Edrand was all smiles as Draco led him out of the castle ground. The further away they moved, the more Draco felt her eyes burning at his back.
She was watching him.
TBC.