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Wrath and Temptation
Last Updated:
2024-03-23 23:32:12
Belle CYou might have guessed it already but Desmond is indeed Mason's mate. What will happen to them?
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"Ah, my little pet," Mason said, pulling a handcuffed Desmond forward. "Looks like he's been used as entertainment for that werewolf pack," he laughed without emotion. "Too bad he's now my little pet, and I have no intention of returning him." "Darius," the man, Desmond, whispered with a broken voice. He sounded broken. "My family?" he asked, and Darius replied, "Prius and Carla are here, fighting against the scum that is threatening their Luna's life." John's gaze flickered between Darius and the captive, his confusion palpable. He was about to voice his inquiry when Mason's voice cut through, demanding attention once more. "Enough with the sob stuff," Mason sneered, redirecting John's focus back to him. "So, the little lamb thinks he can challenge the big bad 'wolf'," Mason taunted, a smirk playing on his lips. John's eyes narrowed, a glint of defiance shining within them. "I've faced bigger threats than you," he declared, though uncertainty lingered beneath his bravado. Mason
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Desmond sat in his usual position, seated on the floor, his back against the cold stonewall of the cell. His arms were folded over his knees, and he rested his head on one of them, the dim light casting faint shadows across the room. It was a small comfort to him as the darkness was no longer as suffocating as it once was, courtesy of what he could only assume was the intervention of his mate. Though he still lacked the “luxuries” of the other cells, such as a bed or amenities, Desmond was no longer shackled like an animal. Instead, he had been granted small reprieves—a daily meal, the absence of chains—that served as a stark reminder of his newfound, albeit uncertain, freedom. Despite the lingering grime and tattered clothing, he felt a glimmer of strength returning to him, his body slowly healing from the wounds inflicted during his captivity. The scars would remain, a testament to his endurance and resilience in the face of adversity, but they no longer bore the weight of despair
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Mason barged into Lex's office without bothering to knock, walking in as if he owned the place. Lex, accustomed to the warlock's brash demeanour, rose from his chair slowly, his movements deliberate and measured.He met Mason's gaze, refusing to be intimidated by the dark aura that surrounded the warlock.Mason's lips curled into a sneer as he addressed Lex, his tone dripping with disdain. "Time to get those losers that you call a pack together and get working," he spat.Lex's jaw clenched at the offensive remark, but he remained composed, his expression unreadable. With a nod, he gestured for Mason to follow him, his silence a subtle acknowledgment of the task at hand.As they walked, a palpable tension hung in the air between them, the nervous energy crackling like electricity between the two. Lex's movements were purposeful, each step a silent declaration of his determination to see their mission through to the end.Mason’s eyes, dark and piercing, bore into Lex's back, a silent re
