Falling For The Demon Wolf-Chapter 20: His Plaything

ZAIN.

I smelled her before I saw her.

That infuriating scent—wild, sharp, unmistakably human. It curled through the air, laced with frustration.

She was angry.

Good.

The heavy doors to the dining hall groaned open, and silence fell. My men turned to the entrance, their conversations dying mid-sentence. Eyes gleamed with curiosity, with amusement.

And then—her.

Violet stepped inside, shoulders squared, chin lifted, but I could see it in her. The tension coiling through her frame, the weight of the tray in her hands, the way she *hated* this.

I leaned back in my chair, watching.

She didn’t look at me immediately. Instead, her gaze darted across the room, taking in the long wooden table, the warriors lounging in their seats, the scraps and leftovers tossed onto plates.

She hesitated.

Barely a breath.

But I caught it.

So did my men.

A few exchanged smirks, entertained by the sight of the hunter reduced to a mere servant. They weren’t laughing, not outright—but the air was thick with silent mockery.

My wolf growled.

It didn’t like that.

Didn’t like them looking at her like that.

I forced it down.

This was what I wanted.

Let her feel it. Let her understand exactly where she stood.

She gripped the tray tighter, her knuckles white. A quiet fury simmered beneath her calm exterior, but she was smart enough not to let it slip. Not here.

She walked forward, every step measured, controlled.

When her eyes finally met mine, the room faded.

For just a second.

Defiance burned in her gaze, daring me to humiliate her further, daring me to break her.

Something twisted inside me.

She was mine.

She didn’t know it. She *didn’t want* it.

And yet, I felt it in my bones, in the pull beneath my skin, in the way my wolf *needed* her close, even as I despised the bond that tied us together.

Fate was cruel.

I reached for the tray, slow, deliberate.

My fingers brushed hers.

A small twitch. The faintest shiver.

Not fear.

Something else.

She pulled back too quickly, as if even that brief touch disgusted her.

Good.

Let her hate me.

Let her think she could fight this.

Because no matter how many times she glared at me like that—

No matter how much she dreamed of escaping—

She would never be free of me.

I let her serve me in silence, watching the way she forced herself to move without hesitation. She refused to look away, refused to cower, but I saw the way her hands trembled, ever so slightly, when she set my goblet down.

The room was quiet. My men waited, barely concealing their amusement. They knew me well enough to sense when I was in a mood—one that promised either violence or entertainment.

Tonight, I wanted both.

I leaned back in my chair, resting my fingers against my lips, pretending to consider her.

Then, in a voice smooth and low, I said, "Dance for me."

The hall fell into a deeper silence.

Violet’s shoulders stiffened.

Slowly, her gaze lifted, meeting mine with something dangerously close to rage. "Excuse me?"

A smirk curled at the edges of my mouth. "You heard me."

Her fingers curled into fists. I could feel the fury radiating from her, barely contained beneath that thin mask of control. She was a hunter, a fighter, not a plaything to be put on display.

But she was mine.

And I wanted to see her burn.

The warriors around us shifted, intrigued, some leaning forward, eager to see if she would defy me outright. They expected me to punish her if she did.

She knew that too.

Violet’s jaw clenched, but then, with a slow exhale, she took a step back.

And began to move.

At first, it was hesitant—calculated. A simple sway of her hips, her arms shifting, body adjusting as she found the rhythm of the drumbeats echoing from the far end of the hall. Someone had taken the cue, pounding out a low, steady rhythm, primal and deep.

My chest tightened.

She was defying me in her own way.

Not a timid, degrading show of obedience, but something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

Violet danced, and it wasn’t the forced, awkward movement of a woman being humiliated—it was something hypnotic, something that made the air grow heavy, thick with the scent of her defiance and something else.

Something I had not expected.

Desire.

She was fire—burning, untamed, daring me to stop her.

Her eyes never left mine as she moved, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate taunt.

My wolf rumbled.

I gripped the arms of my chair, my breath coming slower, heavier.

A challenge.

She was...challenging me.

I should have let her go on. Should have let her exhaust herself, let her believe she had won this game.

But I couldn’t.

Because in that moment, with her body moving like that, with those sharp, angry eyes locked onto mine—

I wanted her too much.

The thought was instant. Violent. Consuming.

My body tensed, and a growl slipped from my throat before I could stop it.

The drumbeat faltered.

I shot to my feet.

"Enough."

Violet froze.

For a moment, she looked almost startled—like she hadn’t expected me to break first.

Neither had I.

My breathing was uneven, my pulse a steady, roaring thrum in my ears.

The hall was silent, every pair of eyes on us.

I didn’t care.

I turned, storming out without another word.

If I stayed a moment longer, I would lose control.

And that—

That could never happen.

I stormed through the hall, each step measured, controlled—an illusion of restraint. My wolf clawed at the edges of my mind, restless, wild, *furious.*

I should have let her continue. I should have let her wear herself out, let her see that no matter how much she defied me, she would always be beneath me.

But I hadn’t.

Because the moment she moved like that, with that fire in her eyes, I felt it.

The pull.

That insufferable bond.

It had never been this strong before, never this... suffocating.

I pushed open the doors to the balcony, letting the cold evening air hit me like a blade. The scent of pine and damp earth filled my lungs, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the lingering trace of her.

Weak. She’s weak. You can’t want her.

But my wolf wanted her anyway.

Mine. it growled.

I gritted my teeth, hands gripping the stone railing as I fought for control.

Behind me, I heard footsteps—light, hesitant.

I didn’t turn.

"I thought I told you to leave," I said, voice low.

There was a pause.

Then a quiet, mocking hum. "You stormed out so quickly, I figured you wanted someone to follow. Alpha."

Violet.

I exhaled through my nose, forcing my muscles to relax. Slowly, I turned.

She stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable—but her body was tense. She was putting on a show, pretending she wasn’t affected by what had just happened.

But I had seen the way she had stopped breathing when I growled.

I had seen the way her fingers had twitched at her sides.

"Brave," I murmured. "Or foolish?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t throw me onto the table and rip my throat out."

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Is that what you think of me?"

She tilted her head. "That’s what I know of you."

I took a slow step forward, watching the way her body tensed, the way she fought not to step back.

"You don’t know anything about me," I said, voice quieter now, darker. "You think I’m a monster because I put your kind in their place? Because I don’t let weak creatures believe they are strong?"

Her jaw clenched, and for the first time, she did step back.

It sent a dark thrill through me.

But then, her eyes hardened.

"You think I’m weak," she said, voice steady.

I didn’t answer.

Because I had seen her move. I had seen the way she watched me, how she calculated everything, waiting for the right moment to strike.

She wasn’t weak.

But she would never be strong enough to stand against me.

Violet huffed out a breath, shaking her head. "You’re pathetic."

I arched a brow. "Careful, little hunter."

She gave me a sharp, humorless smile. "Or what? You’ll make me dance again?"

Something hot flared in my chest, something too close to amusement, and I didn’t like it.

Violet sighed, turning away as if she was done with me.

That should have been the end of it.

I should have let her go.

But then she muttered, just barely above a whisper, "Afraid of losing control, are we?"

My vision blurred for a fraction of a second.

And before I even thought about it, I moved.

One second she was standing by the railing, and the next she was caged between my arms, back pressed against the cold stone.

She inhaled sharply, eyes widening.

"You think I can’t control myself?" I murmured, leaning closer, letting my breath fan against her skin. "You think I stopped you because I was afraid?"

She swallowed, but she didn’t look away. "Yes."

A muscle ticked in my jaw.

I could hear her pulse, could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

I had cornered her.

And yet...

She didn’t cower.

She lifted her chin, daring me.

Claim her. my wolf snarled. Make her submit to you.

I exhaled sharply, pulling back.

"Go to bed, Violet," I said, voice low, controlled. "Before you push me too far."

She didn’t move for a moment.

Then, slowly, she slid out from beneath my arms, brushing past me without another word.

I didn’t turn to watch her leave.

Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d let her.