Nicholas’s POV

My eyes snapped open.

The heavy, feral heat of the rut had finally burned out, leaving a dull, exhausted ache deep in my massive muscles. I inhaled deeply. The dark bedroom smelled entirely of sex, thick vanilla, and iron. It was the scent of absolute claiming.

I reached my heavy, scarred arm across the massive king-sized bed. I expected to feel her warm, fragile skin. I expected to pull my mate firmly against my chest and bury my face in her dark hair.

My hand hit nothing but cold, tangled silk sheets.

I instantly froze. My inner wolf violently snarled in the dark.

I sat up forcefully. The expensive duvet pooled completely around my waist. The other side of the bed was entirely empty. The pillows were cold.

A sudden, sharp spike of pure, territorial panic clawed brutally at my chest. *Where is she?*

Then, I heard it.

Through the heavy silence of the master suite, the dull roar of running water echoed from the massive marble bathroom. And beneath the rushing water, there was another sound. A soft, broken, desperate sound.

Crying. Hysterical, ragged sobbing.

My dark brows pulled fiercely together. A heavy frown completely swallowed my face. My jaw clenched so tight my teeth actually ground together. She was crying. Again. I had claimed her. I had marked her body with my own hands. And she was hiding in the bathroom, weeping like she had just been completely tortured.

I threw my long legs violently over the edge of the mattress. My bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor.

I was going to storm in there. I was going to demand exactly why she was acting like a terrified prey animal when she belonged to the King. But as I took my first heavy, angry step, a tiny movement caught my eye.

The temporary plastic crib.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The violent, simmering rage in my chest forcefully slammed into a brick wall.

I slowly turned my massive body. I walked quietly over to the edge of the crib and looked down.

Luka was completely awake. He was lying perfectly on his back, tangled in his faded blue blanket. He was shoving his tiny, chubby fist into his mouth, completely soaking his knuckles in drool.

He stopped gnawing on his hand the exact second my shadow completely covered him.

He looked right up at me.

His eyes were pitch-black. Deep, dark, and entirely fearless. The exact same eyes that stared back at me in the mirror every single morning. The eyes of an apex predator, trapped inside a tiny, fragile human-sized body.

My chest heaved. I stood there, a massive, heavily scarred mafia boss with blood permanently stained on my soul, completely paralyzed by a six-month-old baby.

Luka didn’t cry. He didn’t flinch away from my overwhelming, suffocating Alpha aura. Instead, he pulled his wet fist out of his mouth.

He smiled.

It was a huge, gummy, ridiculously bright grin. He let out a loud, bubbly giggle that violently pierced the dark, heavy tension in the room. He kicked his little legs frantically under the blanket, reaching both of his tiny arms up toward me.

My inner wolf practically melted into a puddle of absolute devotion. *My pup. My bloodline.*

Without a single conscious thought, my massive hand reached down into the crib. I shouldn’t touch him. My hands were rough, completely calloused from breaking bones and tearing throats out. But I couldn’t stop myself.

I gently extended my large index finger. I poked his soft, chubby stomach.

Luka squealed in pure delight. Both of his tiny, delicate hands instantly clamped down hard around my single finger. His grip was surprisingly strong. He tried to pull my massive hand straight into his toothless mouth.

A dark, genuine chuckle actually rumbled deep in my chest.

It was a bizarre, completely alien sensation. For a fraction of a second, the violence, the mafia empire, and the blood on my hands completely ceased to exist. There was only this tiny, perfect life.

But then, another broken, agonizing sob echoed loudly from the bathroom.

The brief moment of peace instantly shattered into a million jagged pieces.

My smile violently vanished. My face twisted back into a cold, lethal mask. I gently, carefully pulled my finger out of Luka’s tight, chubby grip.

"I will be right back," I murmured roughly.

I turned my back on the crib. My heavy, bare feet completely closed the distance to the master bathroom in three massive strides. I didn’t knock. I didn’t wait.

I shoved the heavy frosted glass door forcefully open.

Thick, scalding hot steam instantly rolled out, completely engulfing my bare chest. The heavy, suffocating scent of cheap floral soap aggressively assaulted my heightened senses. But beneath the soap, there was the sharp, sour scent of pure terror and absolute distress.

I stood perfectly rigid in the doorway. My golden eyes narrowed dangerously through the thick fog.

Irina was sitting completely naked on the floor of the massive, walk-in marble shower.

The heavy brass showerhead was turned entirely on full blast. Scalding hot water violently rained down heavily on her fragile, shivering body. Her dark hair was completely plastered to her pale shoulders.

But it wasn’t the water that made my blood run completely freezing cold.

It was what she was doing.

She held a rough, abrasive bath sponge in her trembling right hand. And she was scrubbing herself.

She wasn’t just washing. She was violently, frantically tearing at her own flesh. She dragged the rough sponge brutally across her collarbone. She scrubbed viciously at her slender arms. She scraped it aggressively down her stomach and her pale thighs.

Her skin was completely raw. It was violently flushed, bright angry red, dangerously close to actually bleeding.

And she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her tiny shoulders heaved with violent, ragged gasps. She was choking on her own tears, entirely consumed by absolute panic.

My mind went completely blank.

*She is washing me off.*

The realization hit me like a massive, physical blow to the jaw. She was scrubbing at the exact places my hands had pinned her down. She was frantically trying to erase the ghost of my touch. She was trying to strip my scent completely off her skin.

She hated my mark. She was utterly terrified of my claim.

A devastating, blinding wave of unhinged Alpha rage violently exploded in the very center of my chest.

*Mine.*

My inner beast roared deafeningly in my skull. She was my fated mate. She was mine to claim, mine to mark, mine to absolutely possess. How dare she try to scrub me away like I was some kind of filthy disease? How dare she reject my scent?

I stepped directly into the massive shower.

I didn’t care that I was still wearing my dark sweatpants. I didn’t care about the scalding hot water instantly soaking completely through the thick fabric, sticking violently to my heavily scarred legs. I marched straight through the heavy downpour like a predatory monster stepping out of a nightmare.

I loomed entirely over her broken, shivering form.

"Stop," I growled darkly. My voice was a lethal, vibrating threat over the sound of the rushing water.

Irina didn’t even hear me. She was completely dissociated. She just kept violently scraping the rough sponge back and forth across her bruised collarbone. *Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.*

My control completely and utterly snapped.

I lunged downwards. My massive, calloused hands fiercely seized both of her delicate upper arms. I gripped her pale skin tight enough to absolutely leave dark, permanent bruises.

"Ah!" Irina shrieked loudly. It was a sound of pure, blinding terror.

The rough sponge slipped completely from her trembling fingers, hitting the wet marble floor with a heavy thud.

I didn’t give her a single second to fight back. With one violent, effortless yank, I pulled her completely off the floor. Her bare feet scrambled frantically against the slick wet marble.

I spun her fragile body roughly around. I slammed her bare, wet back entirely against the cold, hard stone wall of the shower.

She gasped sharply, the breath violently punched straight out of her lungs. Her small, trembling hands flew up instantly, pressing desperately against my rock-hard chest, trying to push my massive weight away. It was absolutely useless.

I stepped completely into her space. I crushed her slender body forcefully between the cold marble wall and my massive, burning frame. The scalding water battered heavily against my broad shoulders, completely trapping us both in a thick curtain of steam.

She was violently shaking. Her large, terrified blue eyes were blown completely wide, staring up at me with raw, unfiltered horror. Tears mixed heavily with the shower water streaming rapidly down her pale, beautiful face.

I grabbed her jaw with one massive hand. I tilted her head forcefully up, refusing to let her look away from me. My dark, furious eyes bored entirely through her fragile soul. I leaned my face down incredibly close to hers. My hot, ragged breath completely brushed her trembling, wet lips.

"Does sleeping with me disgust you that much? Hmm?"