OPHELIA
"Who are–" I shuddered at the cold air that wafted through the open door. The hallway was dark and the light in the room wasn't illuminating the doorway. So the figure lingered longer there, stirring up a dose of fear in me. "–you?" I added, less audibly.
Silence. A second. Ten seconds. A minute. Nothing. The figure said no words. Made no movements either. My heartbeat skyrocketed. I was not always easily scared but after what had happened to me today, I felt my nerves had been scattered in different directions. I had no control over them.
"What do you want?!" I asked again, taking a few steps closer to the door. My nostrils were attacked by a strong, alluring scent. It's a delicious mixture of candy and rose, with a lowkey spike of raspberry. I don't know, it could be the cologne of whoever it was. But the smell was intense and stirred up a weird feeling inside me.
"You."
The reply was a hoarse, low, baritone, startling the heck out of me. Finally, the figure moved.
I took involuntary quick steps backward as the figure graced the room, coming into the light. I gulped loudly, frozen by the man in front of me.
Being 5'7, I've never felt lacking in height. Among my peers at home, I've always been the tallest, and I took much pride in my height. But right now, I felt incredibly small standing next to the overly tall man in front of me. What was he? A 6'3?
His face was hooded by his long silver locks, sleek and dripping wet. Maybe he just had a shower, or he's always had a thing for looking incredibly hot. My God, what was I saying?
But it's true. The more of him I took in, the more stunned and smitten I was. His bare chest flexed hard biceps, visible and inviting. I'd given anything to run my fingers through them. He's wearing a night coat and shorts.
My gaze dropped down to it and I felt my throat go instantly dry. It's a loose short but somehow, I could make out the frame of his hard cock through it. It's even more terrifying that he's not trying to hide it. The same way I've been tugging at my nightgown, hoping it covers me more than it does. I felt vulnerable next to this stranger, and it had to do with everything. My nightgown. His dominating poise. The scent lingered around him. How easily he could stir me up. Every damn thing about this moment was strange.
"At some point, you're gonna have to stare at my face, right?" The hoarseness dropped, replaced by a greater dose of huskiness.
I flushed from embarrassment, finally tearing my gaze away from his bulge and looking at his face. His hazel eyes were squinted by a frightening rage of emotions that I couldn't decipher. It shot sparks into my body, arousing uncontrollable wetness in my pussy.
Who was this man and how the hell was he making me feel this way in just a few minutes? I've met enough men to last a lifetime. I've been seduced by a thousand. But none made me feel close to this.
"If you keep up with that, we're gonna stand here all night, and I sure as hell didn't sign up for that." He said in a guttural tone, making me flinch.
"I'm sorry, uh…I didn't mean to stare like that –" I mentally chided myself for staring like a fool. But how could I not when he's looking like a hot, Greek devil?
"Stare all you want. That's not a problem. I just wanna have something to stare at too."
My brows arched. "I don't understand–"
"I'll make you understand. So listen keenly. I won't repeat myself, Princess Ophelia."
If I thought Beta Barton had called me in a disdainful tone, then this man just topped the game. My name had never sounded like trash until it came from his mouth.
And it's not just the way he called me. His hazel eyes were sizing me up like I was just a gust of wind. His aura was dominating me like I was not there. Like I didn't exist, standing next to him.
"Your father committed a grave mistake, and I intend to make him pay in every way possible. Stealing away his freedom would never be enough. So I went ahead to take the one thing he values more than his wretched life. You."
The silence that followed carried the racing of my heart and the low clattering of my teeth. My gaze swept over the taut frame of the man again. Every inch of him. Gasping at the horrific tattoos that graced his arms and his upper chest. I didn't notice them till now.
No way in hell could it be him. This can't be him. But – but it could be. I just didn't want it to be him. I didn't get stirred up by the monster who took my father. No way. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.
"I'm guessing you know who I am, right?" He asks. "And you know why you're here."
"I don't –" I gulped, clearing my throat to get rid of the fear in it. "I don't know why I'm here."
"But you do know who I am." He stated, seizing my gaze and silently coaxing me for an answer. Or so it feels.
"Yes," I replied, shutting my eyes briefly. The Lycan King. Oh, God.
"Good." He smirked, stepping closer so that I was left with no time to think before my butt hit the bed. He lingered in front of me, with his hard cock glaring at me through the fabric.
I forced myself to keep my eyes on his face. He lingered closer, brushing his bulge over my chin. A low gasp ruptures from my tight lips.
"You're here to be one of my breeders. In simpler terms, I get to fuck you, make you carry my pups and you give birth to them. As many times as I want. Do you understand?"