Lorali

This is it, the only room I have left to clean before I can finally call the day done, at least until dinner preparations demand my attention again. I pause in front of the door, staring at the sign that reads In Session. My head tilts, curiosity prickling. What is that supposed to mean?

I knock three times, pausing only a heartbeat between them. Silence answers me. No reply, not even the courtesy of a "go away."

"Housekeeping," I sing out, unable to resist. I’ve always wanted to do that, it looked so cool in the movies.

I raise my hand to knock again, but before my knuckles touch wood, the sound of a key turning jolts me. The door bursts open with such force it rattles the frame.

The man, Oril, I think, grabs my arm violently, yanking me inside. In one swift, merciless motion, he slams me against the wall, the impact reverberating through my body before I can even process what is happening.

He looms above me, a dark aura radiating from him. His hair is a mess, strands falling wild across his face. He doesn’t look put together like the last time I saw him. His eyes are bright and raw, rimmed red as though he spent the night crying or hasn’t slept at all. He’s still in the same clothes I saw him last in, rumpled and heavy with exhaustion.

I gulp nervously, inhaling his coffee smell, unrestrained, out of control. "I...I—"

Before I can finish, his mouth crashes against mine. This isn’t the gentle, innocent kiss you see in films.

This is a conquest. His lips bruise mine, his head pressing down as his hands seize my cheeks, holding me captive. My gasp opens the door for him, and he takes it ruthlessly, driving his tongue into my mouth. Heat floods me instantly, his tongue exploring, claiming and conquering.

Oh my moon goddess. My mate is kissing me. My mate is actually kissing me. WE ARE KISSING!

Even though he’s doing all the work, his tongue relentless in its assault, I can’t stop the sound that escapes me it’s like a whimper, a noise I didn’t even know I was capable of making. A rush coils in my stomach, sharp and consuming, before a sudden clench grips my vagina. That same sensation from yesterday, the one I thought was a dream, returns with brutal clarity. The silky substance. It has to be.

Panic spikes. This is bad. This can’t be happening now. I’m not wearing panties under this dress. I had to wash the only pair I own with me here, and they wouldn’t dry fast enough so I had to wild it out. If it drips to the floor and he notices. He’ll think something is wrong with me.

"Eyes on me, Omega,"growls, pulling back just enough for his words to cut through the haze. His breath is musky, his voice low and dangerous. His hands slide down, gripping the fabric of my dress, and then he pushes beneath it, his fingers finding my bare, clenching pussy.

"The scent of slick dripping from this pussy is driving me insane."

He drops to his knees, and my breath hitches violently. What is he doing? What is he about to do beneath my dress?

A strangled sound escapes me as something wet makes contact with my folds. A tongue. He’s licking me. He’s licking what he calls slick on me, tasting me as though it’s the only thing that matters. My shoulders roll back, pleasure surging through me in waves.

This feeling, it’s electric. Butterflies swarm my gut, my body trembling under the intensity. I yelp when his grip tightens on my thigh, his tongue penetrating me, ravishing me as though I’m the most exquisite meal on earth.

He lifts one of my legs, his mouth still locked on my pussy, and throws it over his shoulder. My toes curl, my shoes scraping against the floor as my fingers dive into his hair, clutching the strands, pulling him closer, desperate and undone.

My breath hitches as something builds inside me, overwhelming and I can’t stop. "I’m... need... to... p—" The words die in my throat as his tongue increases speed, merciless and unrelenting. In an instant, a sudden release bursts from me, squirting out in a rush I can’t bear to look at and I’m not sure what it is. He consumes all of it, licking me clean, devouring every drop before rising back up to press his lips against mine again. This time, he tastes like me, his mouth carrying my scent, my essence.

I’m so consumed by the kiss that I don’t notice until it’s too late when one of his fingers drives inside me, filling me and stretching me. The intrusion shocks me, and it hurts so I bite down hard on his lip, tasting his blood as it floods into my mouth. He doesn’t flinch nor does he stop. His fingers flicker inside me, curling, stroking, giving me unimaginable pleasure. My body floats, weightless, as though I’m on cloud nine. I’ve never felt anything this good. I want more. I want him deeper.

And he obliges. His finger dives further into me, relentless, while his tongue trails down my neck, licking the sweat that beads along my skin. I feel something poking at me as he pauses at my shoulder, lingering, tasting that spot longer than the rest. Then suddenly, he bites. His teeth sink into me.

A scream tears from my throat. Pain explodes through me, excruciating, burning hotter than any heat I’ve ever endured.

He remains locked in place, his mouth clamped on my shoulder, his fingers still plunging into my pussy. I am lost, torn between the great agony of his bite and the pleasure that makes my legs tremble uncontrollably.

Did... did this man just bond with me?

The textbooks say the moment your packmate bites down anywhere on you, the bond is formed for life. You are bound together, inseparable. For fated mates and scent matches, it is even stronger, the two souls become one. This is it. I always imagined it would be more romantic, carefully planned, but this is enough. One of my fated mates has bonded with me. Despite the pain, despite the burn, joy floods me. I smile through me, the joy stronger than the agony.

CLACK.

The sound of glass shattering cuts through the air, killing the atmosphere instantly. My head snaps toward the hallway, but I see nothing, no one, not a soul. Confusion grips me.

All at once, Oril shoves away from me, his blood-stained mouth twisting into a look of disgust. That look, those eyes, shatter my heart into a million pieces. He is horrified. He is disgusted by me.

"Lorali Alma," he scrambles to say, his voice desperate and trembling, "I, Oracle Spade of Pack Spade, reject you."

The words slice through me. Reject. He wants to reject me.

I stand frozen, shock rooting me in place. One moment I was in paradise, the next I am in hell. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

The man before me collapses to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "I reject this bond... I reject it... please, just break already," he cries, his voice raw and broken. But bonds cannot be undone once marked no matter how much you beg. What’s done is done.

"I don’t understand," I manage to cough out, staring down at him. He looks up, his eyes the reddest I’ve ever seen, filled with regret, contempt, and sorrow.

"This is your fault," he seethes, venom dripping from every word. "This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t come here. Into this house. Into this family. It would have been better if you didn’t exist. You cause nothing but problems."

His words strike like daggers, each syllable poisoning me. My mate, my fated mate, hates me with a passion so fierce it burns.

"Get out," he mumbles.

"What?" My hand moves instinctively to my chest, clutching at the ache.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!" he roars, rising to his full height, towering over me. His hands shove me out of his room, the door slamming shut behind me with brutal finality.

My vision blurs. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it will break through my ribs. I stumble downstairs, fleeing to my bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. And then I collapse.

Tears stream down my face, unstoppable, endless. My throat burns, my sobs clawing at my chest. My heart clenches, breaking apart piece by piece. Everything hurts. My body, my soul, my very existence, it all hurts.

What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t he want me? Why would he reject me? That would kill, he knows it would kill me, does he want me dead? I can’t do this anymore. The pain is too much. My tears fall onto the tiles, each drop the ashes of my heart, burned and destroyed, the remnants of what was once whole.