Chapter 38: Bound by Blood and Lies
{EMBER}
The Bloodmoon Pack’s den was thick with heat, the scent of wolves and burning wood curling in the air.
Outside, the moon hung heavy and red, casting long shadows through the open window.
Lorcan stood before me, the firelight licking over his body, sharpening every carved muscle, every brutal edge. He was power—danger wrapped in flesh and bone.
My wolf recoiled at the thought, snarling inside me. Traitor. This isn’t our mate.
He reached for me, fingers brushing my skin like fire meeting ice, and my wolf snarled in warning inside me. Bitch, she seethed. This isn’t our mate. This isn’t—
I silenced her with a growl of my own. My mate was dead. The bond was gone. The only thing left was my goal, and Lorcan was a weapon I needed in my hands.
But damn him. Damn the way he looked at me, the way his presence consumed all the space in the room, leaving no air for me to breathe.
"You want this," he murmured, his voice a dark, velvety promise against my ear. "You wear that confidence like armor, like nothing could ever rattle you . . . but I can smell it, Ember. Your hesitation. Your arousal."
I bristled, shoving at his chest, though it was like trying to move a mountain. "Don’t flatter yourself," I shot back, my tone sharp. "This is nothing more than consummating our marriage. And sorry to disappoint, but I’m no blushing virgin. I hope that doesn’t bother you."
I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze head-on, a slow smirk curling my lips. "But I can promise you this—you’ll never forget the best sex in your life."
His grin was slow, dangerous. "Best sex?" His hand wrapped around my throat—not tight, just enough to make my breath hitch. "Then why are you shaking?"
Damn him. I hated how he affected me.
Before I could spit back another lie, he crushed his lips to mine. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire consuming air, an unrelenting battle of dominance.
My teeth grazed his lip in defiance, and he growled—a sound so deep and primal it sent a wicked shiver down my spine.
I fought him. Clawed at his back, dragged my nails down his skin. He didn’t stop me—he wanted the fight, thrived on it. His hands pinned mine above my head, his weight pressing me into the mattress, heat searing into my skin.
"Yield," he murmured against my throat.
"Never," I gasped.
A low chuckle. "We’ll see."
He wanted me to submit to him, but he had another thing coming. I wasn’t about to let him boss me around.
This partnership wasn’t about dominance and submission—it was about equality. If he wanted to play the Alpha, fine. But he would have to treat me as his Luna and forget about his mate.
It wouldn’t be an issue for long. I knew exactly what men like him wanted. I might not have his heart, but I could make sure his body craved only me.
Men like Lorcan thrived on control, on dominance. But the moment you gave them exactly what they wanted, they got bored.
The key was to never make it easy—to push back, to challenge. To show him just how much I could make him want me and more.
Sooner or later, Lorcan Bloodhowl would be at my command. And when that day came, my plan would finally fall into place.
I needed him. I needed his wolf.
I was jolted back to reality when his hands roamed my body like he was claiming territory, like he had every right to take what was his.
But I wasn’t his—I was no one’s. Not anymore.
And yet, as his mouth trailed down my skin, as my body betrayed me and arched into his touch, I knew I was losing this battle.
I let my lips part, let my gaze flick down his bare chest like I was entranced, like I wasn’t calculating every move.
His dark eyes caught mine, predatory and knowing. He could sense my arousal, but he’d never know the truth behind it.
"You hesitate," he murmured, leaning closer.
I forced a smirk, tilting my head. "Maybe I just like making you wait."
His eyes flashed, amusement curling his lips for half a second before his hand shot out, fingers tangling into my hair, yanking my head back.
I let out a small gasp—not because it hurt, but because I wanted him to think it did.
"Liar," he growled, his mouth hovering over mine, breath hot against my skin. "You’re trying too hard to act like you want this."
My pulse skipped. Did he suspect?
But then his lips crashed into mine, stealing my breath, stealing my control. I melted into it—or at least, I let him think I did.
I pressed against him, moving my hands over his body like I needed him, like he was something more than just a means to an end.
He growled against my mouth, deep and possessive, his hands gripping my hips, dragging me flush against him.
I shuddered, feeling the raw heat of his strength. I hated how my body reacted, how every touch sent fire through me. But I kept my focus. I was in control. I had to be.
Until I wasn’t.
Lorcan didn’t just take—he conquered. He tore my defenses apart, claiming my body with unrelenting dominance. He didn’t let me pretend. Didn’t let me lead.
Every time I tried to push, he pushed back harder, forcing me beneath him, forcing me to submit.
My wolf clawed inside me, furious, trapped between hate and instinct. I told myself I was only giving in for my plan. That it wasn’t real.
But then came the moment of no return.
His body locked into mine, the primal, biological force of werewolves sealing us together. I gasped, a sharp, breathless sound. My muscles tensed, panic lashing through me.
No escape. No running. This was instinct. This was nature.
Lorcan’s forehead pressed against mine, his breath ragged. "Mine," he murmured, voice strained, full of dark satisfaction.
I clenched my jaw, swallowing the truth. I wasn’t his. This was just a game—a game I intended to win.
But as the night stretched on, and his body remained tangled with mine, I wondered who was really pretending.
