12: Fatal Attraction

ATTICUS

I pushed the door open, expecting the silence I craved after a long, exhausting day. All I wanted to do was have a cold shower and sleep.

But when I entered the room, there she was—Lilith, standing in the middle of the room, completely naked, a sly, seductive smile curling her lips.

Why am I not surprised?

She stepped closer, her hips swaying, confidence dripping from every movement.

“I thought you might want to relax after such a long day,” she purred, her voice dripping with suggestion. Her hands reached out, brushing my chest, fingers sliding up to my neck as she leaned in to kiss me.

I caught her wrists, stopping her.

“Don’t.” I growled out dismissively.

She blinked, surprised, but her smile didn’t waver.

“Oh, come on,” she chuckled. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it last time.” Her tone hinted suggestion, taking my mind back to what happened last time in this same room.

Last time.

The memory of that mistake—a reckless attempt to push Hera out of my mind—flickered briefly, but I crushed it before it took hold. I shoved her back, hard enough for her to stumble slightly. Her smile faltered for the first time.

Good.

“It was a one-time thing, Lilith. Don’t make this into something it’s not,” I said, my voice colder than I intended. She straightened, her confidence barely unshaken.

“You don’t mean that.” She took a step forward again, letting her hands roam across her body, playing with herself as her eyes remained fixed on mine like she was trying to lure me in.

“You know I can make you forget about anything that is stressing you out, including that bitch,” she was referring to Hera. “We don’t have to play games, Atticus. I’m right here.”

She was relentless, desperate even, but as she moved closer, I felt nothing. She could’ve been a log of wood for all I cared. Whatever fleeting attraction I thought I’d felt that night was long gone.

In fact, there was never… and there would never be an form of attraction between Lilith and I. She was just a means to an end and she made herself available.

I stepped away, shaking my head.

“It’s not happening again.” I told her point blank, leaving no room for argument.

Lilith’s face hardened slightly, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she dropped to her knees in front of me, her hands moving to the waistband of my pants, her voice a low whisper.

“Then let me use my mouth. You don’t even have to fuck me to satisfy me—just let me—”

I grabbed her by the arm, pulling her roughly to her feet.

“Stop.” My tone left no room for argument, and finally, the desperation in her eyes started to show. She was losing, and she knew it.

“What’s the point in this, Lilith?” I asked, my voice sharp with impatience. “I already gave you what you wanted—free reign over Hera. That should keep you entertained, shouldn’t it?”

Lilith crossed her arms, her lips curling into a bitter smile as she shook her head bitterly.

“You think that’s enough for me, Atticus?” She spat out bitterly and my forehead creased in a frown. “You think letting me torture Hera is all I’ve ever wanted? It’s part of it, but it’s not everything!”

I narrowed my eyes, already feeling the familiar tug of irritation rising.

“What more do you want then?” I asked, knowing that I might regret indulging her. “You told me you wanted to get revenge on Hera and you are getting your revenge—what else could you possibly expect?”

She stepped closer, eyes burning with frustration.

“I want you, Atticus. I want what I’ve deserved all these years. I’ve been by your side since Rachel died—helped you, stood by you,” she cried out. “And all I get is scraps while you obsess over someone who should mean nothing to you.”

“Enough!” I thundered, my voice cold. I took a step forward, looming over her, my patience running thin. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

She flinched, but only for a second. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stood there, exposed, her confidence crumbling when she realised that I wasn’t the least bit interested in whatever she had to offer.

She picked up her robe from the floor and wore it. Then she turned, preparing to leave.

Somehow, I pitied her. Just a little bit.

“Lilith,” I called, stopping her in her tracks. “I don’t want to hurt you. Find yourself a man who actually gives a damn about you. This,” I gestured between us, “this isn’t going anywhere.”

She turned back to face me, her eyes blazing with frustration and something else—sadness, maybe?

“I don’t want another man, Atticus. I want you.” The defindesperation in her tone was very evident.

I stared at her, unblinking.

“Then you are just wasting your time. Leave.” I ordered coolly.

Her face tightened, and for a moment, it looked like she might argue, but instead, she turned sharply and walked out without another word.

As the door closed behind her, I felt nothing. Not guilt, not regret. Just the heavy weight of my unstable emotions pressing down on my shoulders—emotions that had nothing to do with Lilith and everything to do with a certain woman who, despite my best efforts, wouldn’t leave my mind.

I let out a breath, discarding my clothes carelessly onto the floor. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down my body. My muscles relaxed, but my mind didn’t. The water did little to drown out the images swirling in my head—Hera, storming into the meeting earlier today.

The fire in her eyes, the defiance in her voice.

Fuck!

I clenched my jaw, trying to shake the image, but it wouldn’t leave. Two days. It’s been two fucking days, and I still couldn’t get her out of my head.

My body reacted before I could stop it, my dick getting harder at the thoughts of her that kept swirling in my head. I slammed a fist against the wall, cussing under my breath.

She wasn’t supposed to have this effect on me. She was the enemy, the one I’d brought here to torment, to make pay for what she’d done to Rachel.

But even now, with all that rage coursing through me, all I could think about was how I wanted nothing more than to tell everyone to get out, bend her over fuck her senseless when she barged into that meeting today.

The way she challenged me, stood her ground despite everything I’d done to strip her of control.

My hand twitched, fingers curling as temptation crept in. I could end this right now—beat my meat and relieve the tension, give in just for a moment. I could almost feel her under my touch, taste the defiance on her lips.

No.

I growled in frustration, pressing my palm flat against the cold tiles, stopping myself from going any further. I wasn’t going to give her that power over me, not again. I’d already lost control with her once, and that‘s a mistake I don’t plan to repeat.

But damn it, what the hell was keeping this fake attraction alive? I’d taken away her powers, stripped her of the very thing that made her a threat.

So why the hell couldn’t I stop wanting her?

I slammed my fist against the wall again, water pouring over me, cursing at the insanity of it all. I was stronger than this—stronger than whatever pull she had on me.

I’m the fucking Alpha of Feral Blood Pack and the King of all wolves.

I shouldn’t be feeling like this.

But even as I stood there, breathing heavily, it felt like I was losing this battle.

I turned off the shower, the sudden silence almost deafening. Water dripped from my body, but the heat inside me remained, simmering just below the surface. I grabbed a towel and dried off mechanically, my movements rigid, like I was going through the motions just to keep from thinking about her.

But even as I slipped into bed, the cool sheets doing nothing to calm the fire inside, her face kept haunting me. The way she looked at me in the meeting, the defiance in her eyes, the fire in her words—it was maddening.

She should’ve been broken by now, should’ve begged for mercy. But instead, she kept fighting, kept pushing back, and somehow, that only made me want her more.

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, the dim light of the moon filtering through the curtains. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest.

Was she thinking about me too? Was she lying in her bed, replaying every moment, every glance, every touch? Did she feel the same pull, the same frustration that I did?

I hated myself for wondering. For caring.

This was supposed to be about revenge, about making her suffer. But instead, I was the one trapped in this spiral, constantly thinking about her when I should’ve been focused on anything else.

It made absolutely no sense.

I should’ve been able to control this, control myself. But somehow, with Hera, control was the one thing I couldn’t seem to hold onto.

As my eyes finally began to close, I couldn’t help but wonder if, wherever she was, she was lying there just like me—frustrated, angry, and maybe, just maybe, thinking about me too.

That thought stayed with me, lingering even as I fell asleep.