Chapter 3- Magical Fire of Lust

Ethan was merely an observer at the pub. He never sampled the goods. After all, he was supposed to be in the shadows, just a watcher, a warrior, waiting for something... He hangs out the establishment for the secrets it unlocks. That was what the draw was to a place like The Secret Pub. It was drowning in secrets. Werewolves, Fae, and alchemists alike. Ethan learned from a young age that knowledge was power, and there was no knowledge more powerful than the sinful desires people hide from the rest of the world. Once you have the darkest desires of powerful men in your hands, you suddenly become the one with control, and that's what he has always craved. Control. Powerful men will go to any length to keep their skeletons hidden away in the closet.

Then a woman stepped into his vision, like the sun eclipsing the entire world around it with radiance and warmth.

He chuckled as soon as she came into his view. An alchemist, a powerful one. He smirked as he saw her shuffle her feet and keep her eyes glued to the floor beneath her, probably shocked at the depravity she was witnessing. She doesn't really look like she belongs here. That's what Ethan likes—her innocence, raw and pure. She was hesitant, wearing a novice outfit, a black leather dress with a warrior full-body leather woman, and a dark leather mask. He had always had a bit of a thing for warriors, especially alchemists.

When his fingers touched her skin, it was fire, but not the fire he had become accustomed to. The flames did not cause pain, dragging her and anyone else who came into his path to the fiery pits of hell, like a magical fire of lust and passion. Who could blame him? He was a fire lycan. A higher species of a werewolf with magical abilities. The four elements: water, fire, air, and earth, and he was the fire Lycan, the most powerful wielder of magic.

Yet, his fire now was the type of fire that can purify someone's soul; magical, full of passion and lust; the type where one lick can have someone trapped, willing to be its slave for all eternity. But Ethan couldn't be a slave. He can never be under anyone's foot again. He takes what he wants and leaves. Just one taste.

"Punishment is my specialty, little one," he said before nipping at the woman's bare shoulder. She jerked in his arms, then leaned back and relaxed. From the corner of his eye, Ethan noticed a Fae leader watching them. When he made eye contact, the fucker smirked, his hand moving against his dick, trying to cause friction. Pathetic.

Ethan narrowed his eyes at him, letting him know to keep his eyes elsewhere. The Fae just rubs his dick harder. He knew what he was about to do was crazy and it could fuck up everything, but he didn't give a fuck. "I'll be right back, little one. Stay here."

Ethan dropped her hand and marched right up to the Fae. He had the nerve to look turned on like he was about to drop to the floor and worship his tiny dick. Ethan's hands grab his face. His mouth parts. His smirk matched his, but it was not one of lust or desire. It was one of death and blood, the one he had worn his entire adult life. Ethan's thumbs move up from his face until they circle the outside of his eyes. "I don't fuck around, Fae. I don't care who you are!"

The gigantic, Fae warrior who wore nothing but a loin cloth and a mask just smirked, his oblong ears twitching.

It took a second for his words to register, a second too late. Ethan's thumbs dug into the fucker's eyes. He screamed, not realizing the more he screamed, the more it egged him on. That was his thing. He liked the screams, hearing the pain they felt. The pain dragged him to his knees.

He slammed his head against the wall, not once, not twice, but three times. Neon's blood splattered on the cold dark tile ground, followed by his limp body. "Don't ever look at what belongs to me again," Ethan murmured, puncturing each word with a kick.

"Yes, my lord." The Fae responded with shiny neon blood on his mouth as he bobbed his head.

"Good, now, begone!" Ethan whispered.

Moving back to the beautiful leather-covered stranger, Ethan grabbed her hand and started dragging her away. "Come on, little one."

Panic was laced in her words, causing Ethan's shaft to harden. "You just fuckin' kicked the shit out of him, and I'm not sure what else you did. I think he's bleeding." She glanced down at his hand. "Your thumbs look like they've been in a bloodbath."

Ethan's gaze locked with the blood, and he winced. He should've kept his damn cool and stayed calm like he usually does. He doesn't just lose it. He turned to her and snapped, "It's fine, little one."

She stopped moving, and for the first time, he could see fear flashing in her eyes. Fuck.

"The bastard knows the deal. He is a Fae, he would heal in no time and you know that."

Ethan expected her to rip her hand out of his grasp and storm out of there, but she didn't. Instead, she licked her lip as if what she saw actually turned her on. The girl makes his head spin, keeping him on his toes, something no one's been able to do for the past fifty years.

"Aren't we going to get kicked out?"

"No."

"How are you so sure?"

"I know everyone's secrets," Ethan smirked.

"Where are we going?"

"Someplace private, little one. These men keep looking at you, and I'm not in the mood to light them all up. I'd rather terrorize your body." Pulling her to his side, his hand firmly holding onto her waist, he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Would you like that? Me making you scream?"

Her bottom lip slides between her teeth. "Oh hell, yes!"

Okay. Ethan never thought that word would sound so magical and sensual, but on her lips, it was like someone had just informed him that he had won the damn world. He didn't know what the heck was wrong with him. All he wanted now was this woman.

Though, women have never really been his thing. That was why he only fucked the ones who knew the score. He used them, they used him, and after they both went nuts, one of them got the heck out. There were no tender moments or a desire to bring them so much pleasure that the world under their feet would shatter and their eyes would see stars. But this one, the little alchemist, Ethan wanted her to not only experience the stars but to transport her to a completely different realm and own her. He wanted his shaft to be a conductor, making her entire body play a symphony she'd never forget.

Ethan opened the door to one of the VIP rooms, a four-poster bed in the middle, with dark satin sheets. The place looked like a Fae-style brothel from the past. The wall was ordained with whips, chains, and floggers, and a Fire Kingdom symbol even sits in one corner. The orange fire of power.

The woman's gaze takes in the room, her plump mouth slightly open, her delicate hands rubbing against each other. "I'm not really sure if all this is what I had in mind."

He wrapped his arms around her and trailed kisses from her shoulder to her earlobe. "I don't need these toys. I can make you scream."

Her breathing sped up, her head falling back, and her body relaxing in his arms. "What do you need?"

She moaned when he grabbed her and tossed her on the bed. Her mask shifted, but she recovered, moving it back into place. "I'm not a freaking rag doll, lycan! You can't just toss me around."

"Isn't that why you came here, to be someone's little doll, or is your thing being the puppet master?"

He doesn't like it when she glances away from him. He wanted her eyes on him at all times. It was already hard enough to sense what she wanted with that stupid mask on her face. "No, I don't want to be the one in control. Um, that doesn't really work for me."

"Good, because I don't enjoy giving up control. Take the mask off."