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Chapter 6: Eat or Be Eaten

ผู้เขียน: Ashtray
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-03-14 16:07:09

Lucien’s POV

She hadn’t eaten—three days of Vira hauling trays back untouched, meat going cold, bread stale. “She’s starving herself,” Vira had growled last night, mossy eyes narrow, like it was my damn fault. Maybe it was—snatched her, locked her up, and now she’s pulling this stunt, digging under my skin worse than her damn “Sourface” crack after catching me with Lena. Those green eyes, slicing through me mid-thrust, wouldn’t quit—her scent—blood, flowers, wild—clinging like a burr I couldn’t shake. Revenge was supposed to be clean—use her, break Dean—but she’s a splinter, and I’m the fool itching to yank her out or shove her deeper.

I’d had it—stormed the kitchen, grabbed a steak—rare, bloody, dripping on my hand—no plate, no fuss. She wants to play stubborn? Fine. I’d make her eat, shove it down her smart mouth if I had to. Upstairs, her door loomed—busted window frame still mocking me from Vira’s report—and I kicked it open, hinges groaning. There she was, slumped on the bed, legs kicked out, sweater stretched tight—nipples poking through, damn it, sharp as her glare. Her hair was a tangle, face pale but fierce, and she smirked—slow, cutting—when she saw me.

“What, Sourface, room service now?” she rasped, voice rough—hunger or hate, couldn’t tell—but it hit me low, a jab I felt in my gut.

“Eat,” I growled, tossing the steak on the bed—juice splattered, red streaking silk—and stepped closer, leather creaking as I loomed. “You’re not starving on my watch.” My arms crossed—shirt tight, sweat from pacing sticking—and her eyes flicked up, green fire daring me.

She laughed—sharp, dry, a bark that scraped my nerves raw. “Oh, big hero, huh? Gonna force-feed me like some pup?” She didn’t move—stayed sprawled, one hand twitching near her nails—long, glinting—and my jaw clenched, picturing those claws on me, not the damn bedpost she’d scratched to hell.

“Move, or I will,” I snapped, voice rough—stepped right to the edge, close enough to smell her, that wild mix hitting me hard. “You’re eating, Selene. End of story.” My hand flexed—wanted to grab her, shake her, anything—and she grinned, slow and mean, sitting up—sweater riding, a sliver of stomach flashing.

“Make me, tough guy,” she said, leaning forward—breath hot, eyes locked—and my dick twitched, instant and brutal, jeans straining. She knew—damn her—and tilted her head, taunting, “What’s the plan? Pin me down, shove it in?” Her smirk widened—teeth bared—and I growled, low and ragged, heat roaring up my spine.

“Keep talking,” I rasped, leaning in—too close, her lips inches away—“and I’ll do worse.” Her chest rose fast—nipples still hard, mocking me—and I pictured it: pinning her, steak forgotten, her thighs clamping, that mouth on mine. My hand shot out—grabbed the meat, not her—shoved it at her face. “Take it.”

She snatched it—fingers brushing mine, electric—and tore in, teeth sinking deep, blood smearing her lips. She chewed—loud, messy—eyes never leaving mine, daring me to blink. Juice dripped—chin, neck—and her tongue flicked out, catching it, slow and wet. My mouth went dry—her eating was a damn show, lips glistening, and I shifted—hard as hell, stuck watching. “Messy little wolf,” I muttered, voice thick—wanted to lick that blood off, taste her instead—and she grinned, tearing another bite.

“Your fault,” she shot back, sucking a finger clean—slow, deliberate—and my growl rumbled, not pissed—hungry. “Should’ve nabbed someone who plays nice.” She leaned back—elbows propping, sweater tight—and chewed louder, juice on her chin now, a smear I could’ve wiped with my thumb—or my mouth.

“You don’t play nice,” I said, stepping closer—bed creaking under my weight—and her scent flooded me—wild, meaty, her. “You’d bite my damn hand off.” My eyes dropped—lips, neck, that damn curve—and my hand twitched—hovering over her shoulder, scars pulling tight. She froze—eyes widening—but not scared—lit up, green cutting me open.

“Try me,” she purred, licking her lips—blood gone, shine left—and tossed the steak aside—half-eaten, red on silk. “Bet I’d enjoy it.” Her voice was rough—hunger cracking through—and my control frayed—imagined grabbing her, ripping that sweater, her nails digging in. I leaned in—breath on her cheek, leather mixing with her—and she didn’t pull back—chest rising, nipples taunting me still.

“You’re pushing it,” I rasped, voice gravel—her mouth was right there, parted, and I could’ve taken it—hard, fast—felt her growl back. My hand flexed—almost grabbed her—and her hum hit—low, weird, vibrating. The fork on the bed bent—metal curling—and she flinched, yanking back fast. “What the—” she muttered, staring at her hands—nails sharp, trembling—and I stepped off, gut twisting—lust slamming into something sharper.

“Eat the rest,” I growled, cold now—her power, that howl, rattled me—and bolted—door slamming, chest heaving. She’s trouble—damn right—and I’m screwed, wanting her more than I should.

Selene’s POV

He stormed out—door banging shut—and I slumped back, steak blood sticky on my fingers, heart hammering like I’d fought, not ate. That bastard—barging in, all muscle and growl, forcing meat on me like I’m his damn pet. I wiped my mouth—smearing more—and muttered, “Nice try, jerk,” but my thighs clenched—heat pooling low—his bulge, his snarl, stuck in my head. The fork was warped—bent from that hum—and I glared at it, nails digging into the sheets—sharp, too sharp.

“Not caving,” I snarled, but my nipples ached—damn him—and escape was still on. He’d be back, and I’d be gone—next time, no steak’s stopping me.

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  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter one: Silver thread and Blood

    The Ironclaw Pack’s ceremonial clearing was alive with this antsy buzz, everyone itching for something big. The full moon hung up there like a fat, nosy spotlight, catching all these werewolves still human-shaped, chatting and milling around. Their eyes had this yellow flicker—creepy little hints of the monsters they’d turn into later. Tonight’s the night I’m supposed to tie myself to Alpha Dean, big shot of these woods. Lucky me, huh. Yeah, right. I stand at the center of the clearing, the silver threaded gown clinging to my skin like a second pelt, itchy and restrictive. My long dark hair braided with moonflowers, a tradition I’d mocked earlier to my best friend, Mira, who rolled her eyes and told me to suck it up. “You look like a goddess” she’d said. “Act like one.” Easy for her to say- she wasn’t the one about to pledge her life to a man who treated her like a prized trophy.Dean stands across from me, tall and imposing in his ceremonial robes, his golden hair standing out am

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  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter two: Shadows stirke

    The forest held its breath as Dean’s teeth grazed my neck, his bite a jagged claim that sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. The pack watched, their eyes glinting yellow under the full moon, waiting for the blood seal to bind me to him forever. I couldn’t do this—couldn’t be his, couldn’t let this night steal my soul. I know for a fact that I'll be miserable.But before I could pull away, the world exploded into chaos. A howl—sharp, guttural, and wrong—tore through the clearing. Not the pack’s ritual cry, but something feral, laced with menace. The trees erupted with shadows, dark shapes spilling from the undergrowth like ink. Wolves, but not ours. Their fur was a clumpy mess, eyes glowing red like some nightmare fuel, and their growls screamed ‘you’re toast.’ My pack—Ironclaw—stood there like idiots for half a second before all hell broke loose with yelling and bones cracking into their wolf forms.“Ambush!” Old Galen’s creaky voice hacked over the noise, his twisted fingers

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  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter three: Chains and chandeliers

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  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires     chapter four: Gilded bars and bad ideas

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    Selene’s POVI stumbled back to my room, door slamming behind me, heart pounding like I’d sprinted through the damn woods, not just down a hall. Lucien—shirtless, sweaty, that blonde pinned under him—kept flashing in my skull, sharp as a claw to the gut. I leaned against the wall, breath ragged, muttering, “Get a grip, Selene, he’s a bastard,” but my brain wasn’t listening. It was stuck—his firm ass flexing as he moved, those six-pack ridges glinting with sweat, every muscle in his back rolling like he was built to break things—or bodies. I slid down, ass hitting the floor, and pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to scrub it out. Didn’t work. That image burned hotter—his scars crisscrossing that stupidly perfect chest, the way his arms flexed, pinning her like it was nothing. And then—damn it—my mind went lower, picturing what I didn’t see. His pants had been tight, zipper straining, and I couldn’t stop wondering—how big, how hard, what it’d look like free, thick and ready. My breat

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บทล่าสุด

  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter 6: Eat or Be Eaten

    Lucien’s POVShe hadn’t eaten—three days of Vira hauling trays back untouched, meat going cold, bread stale. “She’s starving herself,” Vira had growled last night, mossy eyes narrow, like it was my damn fault. Maybe it was—snatched her, locked her up, and now she’s pulling this stunt, digging under my skin worse than her damn “Sourface” crack after catching me with Lena. Those green eyes, slicing through me mid-thrust, wouldn’t quit—her scent—blood, flowers, wild—clinging like a burr I couldn’t shake. Revenge was supposed to be clean—use her, break Dean—but she’s a splinter, and I’m the fool itching to yank her out or shove her deeper. I’d had it—stormed the kitchen, grabbed a steak—rare, bloody, dripping on my hand—no plate, no fuss. She wants to play stubborn? Fine. I’d make her eat, shove it down her smart mouth if I had to. Upstairs, her door loomed—busted window frame still mocking me from Vira’s report—and I kicked it open, hinges groaning. There she was, slumped on the bed, l

  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter 5: Wolves at the Door

    Selene’s POVI stumbled back to my room, door slamming behind me, heart pounding like I’d sprinted through the damn woods, not just down a hall. Lucien—shirtless, sweaty, that blonde pinned under him—kept flashing in my skull, sharp as a claw to the gut. I leaned against the wall, breath ragged, muttering, “Get a grip, Selene, he’s a bastard,” but my brain wasn’t listening. It was stuck—his firm ass flexing as he moved, those six-pack ridges glinting with sweat, every muscle in his back rolling like he was built to break things—or bodies. I slid down, ass hitting the floor, and pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to scrub it out. Didn’t work. That image burned hotter—his scars crisscrossing that stupidly perfect chest, the way his arms flexed, pinning her like it was nothing. And then—damn it—my mind went lower, picturing what I didn’t see. His pants had been tight, zipper straining, and I couldn’t stop wondering—how big, how hard, what it’d look like free, thick and ready. My breat

  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires     chapter four: Gilded bars and bad ideas

    Selene’s POVThree weeks in this damn mansion, and I’m ready to claw my way through the walls—or Lucien’s face, whichever’s closer. It’s all silk sheets and polished floors, chandeliers dripping light like they’re mocking me, but it’s still a prison. Big windows show me a forest I can’t touch, locked doors remind me I’m not a guest, and every meal—fancy steak, wine I’d kill for back home—tastes like ash when I’m eating it under guard. Vira’s my shadow most days, her mossy stink trailing me, silent but watching. Ragnar’s worse—lurking, smirking, like he’s waiting for me to snap so he can break me. I’d snap his neck first if I could. Lucien’s rules choke me harder than the shackles did: stay in the mansion, don’t touch the doors, don’t ask questions. “Obedience,” he’d said like I’m some mutt he can train. Screw that. I’ve been pacing this room—my “suite,” he calls it—wearing tracks in the rug, plotting ways out. Smash a window? Too high, and Vira’s ears would catch the glass before

  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter three: Chains and chandeliers

    Selene’s POVThe cave was a damp, stinking hole—cold stone digging into my back, shackles chewing my wrists raw. I’d lost track of time, maybe hours, maybe days, slumped against that rusted ring like some kicked dog. My braid was a tangled wreck, moonflowers long gone, and my silver gown was more blood and dirt than fabric now. My side throbbed where that wolf’s claws had ripped me open, a dull ache I couldn’t shake. I was a mess, yeah, but I wasn’t broken. Not yet. Footsteps crunched outside—boots, not paws. I straightened, wincing as the iron bit deeper, and squinted into the dim light. Lucien stepped in, that bastard with his black leathers and ice-blue eyes, looking too damn calm for someone who’d just snatched me from my life. Two wolves followed behind him—Ragnar, the wiry creep with a smirk I wanted to claw off, and Vira, the braided one who smelled like moss and Sex for some reason. “Rise and shine, princess,” Ragnar sneered, cracking his knuckles. “Time to move.” “Cal

  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter two: Shadows stirke

    The forest held its breath as Dean’s teeth grazed my neck, his bite a jagged claim that sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. The pack watched, their eyes glinting yellow under the full moon, waiting for the blood seal to bind me to him forever. I couldn’t do this—couldn’t be his, couldn’t let this night steal my soul. I know for a fact that I'll be miserable.But before I could pull away, the world exploded into chaos. A howl—sharp, guttural, and wrong—tore through the clearing. Not the pack’s ritual cry, but something feral, laced with menace. The trees erupted with shadows, dark shapes spilling from the undergrowth like ink. Wolves, but not ours. Their fur was a clumpy mess, eyes glowing red like some nightmare fuel, and their growls screamed ‘you’re toast.’ My pack—Ironclaw—stood there like idiots for half a second before all hell broke loose with yelling and bones cracking into their wolf forms.“Ambush!” Old Galen’s creaky voice hacked over the noise, his twisted fingers

  • The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires    Chapter one: Silver thread and Blood

    The Ironclaw Pack’s ceremonial clearing was alive with this antsy buzz, everyone itching for something big. The full moon hung up there like a fat, nosy spotlight, catching all these werewolves still human-shaped, chatting and milling around. Their eyes had this yellow flicker—creepy little hints of the monsters they’d turn into later. Tonight’s the night I’m supposed to tie myself to Alpha Dean, big shot of these woods. Lucky me, huh. Yeah, right. I stand at the center of the clearing, the silver threaded gown clinging to my skin like a second pelt, itchy and restrictive. My long dark hair braided with moonflowers, a tradition I’d mocked earlier to my best friend, Mira, who rolled her eyes and told me to suck it up. “You look like a goddess” she’d said. “Act like one.” Easy for her to say- she wasn’t the one about to pledge her life to a man who treated her like a prized trophy.Dean stands across from me, tall and imposing in his ceremonial robes, his golden hair standing out am

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