Chapter 11: Whose Mark Is This?

Iris' POV

"What in the fucking hell?" Let's say what he said was true about my wolf being caged, how is having sex with the nitwit the 'only' solution to unlocking my wolf?

I snarled in anger and disgust, wringling the chains with the last drop of strength in me. I was weak. I hadn't had anything solid for a couple of days. I was hungry, and the antidote to my weakness was a good meal and a hot shower blasting over my naked body. Those were all I wanted, not having sex with someone I didn't want to look twice in the face.

"That's the only way, Wild Dog." He rolled his eyes in sheer mockery of my futile attempts to free myself from the metal chains.

"First of, let's agree now and forever that you stop calling me a dog. I'm no fucking dog, Gustav. And secondly, I'm never gonna have sex with you, not in seven lifetimes." I spat, fuming with brute anger.

Yes, he was fucking gorgeous. But he had called me unprintable names, and had tried to force himself on me. If I hadn't kicked him between his legs, I'd have been no use to him than an official royal slut. The part that crumbled me the most was that he did not take me as a second option, I was no option at all.

"First of," he began, clearing his throat " you're as violent as a rogue wolf, but because your wolf is still caged, I settled for dog. You should be grateful I didn't use a more 'dignifying' title to describe you." He made a quoting sign with his fingers in the air when he said dignifying. He gesticulated to make me understand the sarcasm he was pointing me to.

"And secondly?" I hastened, my blood ripping hot in my pipes.

"And secondly." He cleared his throat again. You can't be serious. Must he clear his throat everytime he wants to say something as if he was making a fucking speech?

He knotted his brows into a frown and folded his manly arms below his chest, and stood at ease before me, looking sexy as ever. But I blinked the thought aside immediately it came, before it nestled unsolicited seductions into my head.

"And secondly, you seem to forget I'm still your mate, Wild dog. Having sex with mates on or before the claiming night is a culture you and I are bound by. There's no escaping it for us."

I stared at his apparition behind the bright light overshadowing me. I couldn't see his face, but I had the inkling that he was wearing his signature grin on his face.

"You rejected me." I said between hot tears. " You called me a weakling. You called me wolfless. You called me a stain. You called me a bed omen, Gustav. You think I'll ever forget that?" My lips quivered. I bowed my head to let the tears fall. I did not want him to revel in my weakness.

I had no one to run to. It was then I wished I really had an aunt up Illinois to run to as I told Ludovic. No, as I lied to him.

I wished he was more than being a hitman. He is the only person my spirit found a safe haven with. I thought I could tell him anything. Everything. I wanted to lock my hands with his, and lay my head on his buffer chest again. I wanted to dance with him like there was no more sorrow in the world. I wanted him to touch me, to kiss me, to fuck...

"Snap out of it!" My subconscious reprimanded me. "This is not the time to swim in creamy fantasies. You're before the handsome devil."

"You're right." He strolled into the light, and squatted before me so he could be at bird eye view with me. A mask of victory was cemented on his diamond face. "I didn't want you to forget it. I want it stuck in your fucking brains till you leave this fucking world. The truth hurts, yet, it must be spilled."

He was right about me. I was all he said I was, and even worse. If only my wolf was not caged-as he said; if only the Moon Goddess could rewrite my destiny and make my travails bearable. I wanted to die, and I wanted it now.

"You're right." I confessed, sniffing away at the broken fountain of tears cascading freely from my eyes.

With his index finger, he tilted my face upward to meet his. His face was just few inches away from mine that I could smell his pungent aftershave up close "You should be grateful I chose you. No werewolf, not even a human, will chose a thing as low as you. I'm doing you a favour here, and I'll want you to accept my offer and remain loyal to me, or else..." He dragged, his jaws tensed.

His calloused hands below my chin felt like nails perforating it. I hated the feeling. I gurgled, and spat out the phlegm from my throat into his face.

What a shocker!

This was when the enraged torturer sends a memory-wiping slap across the face of the foolish tortured. And yes, I was right, he did send me that slap.

Waaam!

For a split second, I thought my eyes fell out of their sockets. I saw the Galaxy and the milky way making love, signalling unto me to draw the curtains close.

I spat out blood and fought back the tears welling in my sockets again. If I must go down, it must be with honour, not as a weakling as Gustav had called me. I wanted to prove to him that I was touch on the skin.

'Yeaaah!' I felt my subconscious cheer me on. It was a tap on the back to receive more slaps, and if need be, prepare my snow white skin to be lacerated with daggers and razors- if Gustav will not succumb to using his claws to gorge my eyes out.

"That's what you get for pissing on my offer." He snarled and stood up.

My suspended arms were beginning to ache now, as well as my knees planted on the coarse concrete floor. I attempted to stand up to change my position, but Gustav held me roughly by the hair and brought it down to meet his rising knee.

I felt my forehead split in half, with my brain juice leaking out. The pain was so unbearable for me that I forgot how to stand. All my strength fizzled out of me, leaving me at his mercy.

Warm blood trickled down my nostrils and down the sides of my mouth to stain the shirt. Ludovic's shirt. Splotches of blood messed up the shirt, and I felt sorry for ruining a good shirt because of my foolishness.

No doubt, I knew I had suffered a broken nose even without touching it. I tasted my blood for the first time, and it made me nauseous.

'Sorry!' My subconscious grimaced.

"Fuck you, Gustav. You're never gonna have me" I turned my face and spat out blood mingled with thickened saliva.

He darted at me with an unnatural speed, pinning me to the wall, with his hand holding up my chin roughly to face him. Our faces were too close that what happened afterward was no shocker to me.

He slammed his lips against mine and kissed me roughly like a hungry wolf.

"Screw you, Wild Dog." His right hand traced the cup of my bra-less breasts, pressing it hard against my rib cage. He took them full in his arms, fondling with my nipples without pulling the shirt off. His hands on my breast made my head jam with forbidden pleasure, as I fell cowardly into his lips luscious lips.

Why did my body resign to his touch so surprisingly. I thought I hated everything about him?

His lips travelled from my lips to my nose, kissing it and licking away the blood drying over it. He licked all the blood on my face and transferred his warm tongue to my neck, planting kisses across the slope of my neck.

"Gustav" I moaned with my eyes closed, fighting the wetness embarrassing my lower lips. What right does he have to torture me and make me want him at the same time? As much as I didn't want him to touch me, I didn't know why my body fell defeated at his masterful hands and tortuous lips.

"I don't know why I'm doing this, but I don't want to stop. I hate the way you make me feel, Wild Dog." His hands reached for the buttons of the shirt, yanking them open in a spilt second. His eyes glowed with intense want for me, and I loved the way I made him feel.

He dropped the shirt to the floor, exposing my naked breasts and shoulders to his satisfied grunt. His eyes were fixated on my breast, as if he was examining it for a mole, which made my face heat up with embarrassment.

Damn it! I wanted him to touch me.

He moved his eyes to my right shoulder, fixing his gaze on it. His look was vicious and raw. What is so special about the shoulder that could have stopped him in his track?

The pleasure I saw in his face evaporated in quick flash, with his villainous stare returning on full glare.

"Who marked you?" He growled, his eyes bulging with a death threat spelt clearly in it.

"What... What mark?" I stuttered. I turned my gaze to the shoulder in haste to see what he was talking about. And yes, there was a claw mark etched at the corner of my right shoulder.

'Ludovic.' thought. I am sure it was his.