Bellatrix Sinclair
Fuck no, the universe was playing a twisted a game and I wasn't going to be a part of it.
Under the intensity of his intimidating gaze, I declare, "I, Bellatrix Sinclair, reject you, Lazarus de Loughrey, as my mate."
Everyone gasps in shock while I lost all ability to breathe. His obsidian eyes burned with the essence of rage, "You think you can reject me human." He snarled menacingly, "You are mine if I want you. Humans don't get to oppose the Mate Selection; you don't have a choice."
Trepidation was rapidly consuming me from the revelation that I was the Werewolf King's human mate, however his words had shattered the cloud of dread. Now I was fucking pissed. My blood was boiling, igniting a fire in my belly that spread like wildfire.
"And whose fault is that?" I snapped unconsciously with a bitter tone.
Lazarus's eyes darkened malevolently; sparks explode from his fingertips as they curl around my bicep with a punishing grip that I can't escape from as he drags me out of the doors and away from the crowd. Guards close them behind us, giving us privacy.
And I wasn't going to keep quiet, he will feel my fury.
He lets me go and the sparks instantly disappear, making me question if they were a figment of my imagination. However, he wasn't granting me mercy because in this solitude – I had to face his wrath.
"You, human, dare defy me, dare reject me. You need to be reminded who owns you, you should beg for my mercy after that fucking stunt." He spat venomously.
"Mercy?" I scoffed condescendingly. "Your majesty, you don't know the meaning of something you never enforced. Don't hold your breath because I won't be begging for anything."
He chuckled darkly, a deeply sinful sound. "Oh Bellatrix, I was going to give you an out, I was going to reject you. But you need to be disciplined, you need to face the consequences of your actions."
Lazarus's eyes grew cold, "You are weak, you are useless like all the other humans. There are no choices for you. That little tantrum did nothing but showcase your stupidity, you have no power to reject me." He stated callously, his lips twisting into a devilish grin, "I own you now human."
He shredded the threads of my self-control, letting my hatred wreak havoc upon my insides until I was violently shaking. "I HATE YOU!" I roared, pounding my fists against his chest over and over.
He let out a scornful laugh, "Scream and cry all you want. No one will save you."
"I would rather die than ever be your mate." I spat, my voice dripping with venom as I glared at him with pure disdain.
"That can be arranged," he seethed.
I exploded into a fit of rage, feral screams tearing my lungs as I lunged for him. My mind was racing, unable to process anything aside from causing him harm. Biting, kicking, punishing, scratching – I didn't care if he was King, I wasn't going to be his breeding machine.
My emotions were too overwhelming, my body unable to handle the vicious tremors. Black dots tainting my vision and my heart pounding so hard and fast that I couldn't breathe. Movements became sloppy and sluggish as my consciousness faded to black.
The incessant pounding stretched to my ears; a zealous fire cracking open my sternum. Releasing an audible gasp, drawing in a cool breath as I open my eyes. My mind groggery, slow to register my surroundings.
Staring at the ceiling of mosaic tiles, different shades of black blending into a pattern that was hypnotic. Freezing as memories rush to the surface and I'm keenly aware that this wasn't my room, it was his.
Lazarus's chambers radiated his opulence, walls replaced by floor-length windows that wrapped around me in an endless whirlpool. Fluffy clouds that imitated cotton candy as the sun descended. Silk sheets adorned my skin, a long rectangular coffee table near the window that was vertically sliced to showcase the illuminating glow of a firepit.
Everything shimmered of wealth that werewolves were privileged to. Such knowledge triggered my enmity and scorching my insides with resentment. They lived in luxury while humans lived in squabble. They enjoyed the lavishes of life at the expense of our suffering.
Boiling with rage that had my body quaking, heavy breathing as I stewed in silence. "You seem angry?" his rich voice teased.
"Behold, his majesty." I mocked dryly, watching him come into view.
Lazarus closes the distance and captures my chin, forcing us to lock eyes. "That attitude of yours will only get you in more trouble." His voice acidic, steeped in malice. "You better get familiar with this place Bellatrix, because until you give me an heir – this is your prison."
"Fuck you."
He smirks, "I plan to."
Lazarus's fingers slip from my chin, walking over to the single leather sofa near the fireplace. His mischievous orbs bore into mine as he crossed his ankle over the knee, exuding an affirmative energy was suffocating.
There was something diabolical about the mask he portrayed behind that dark humour. I was skilled at reading people therefore I knew it wasn't lust dancing in eyes, it was calculation. He was studying me, the situation and the future.
"If you are successful at providing me an heir, I will consider rejecting you." He reckoned.
Rejection would mean he would discard me, giving me freedom. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "Why? As far as that goes, it's too nice for even you."
"We share a similar dislike for each other. I wasn't fond of having a human mate but alas this is my current predicament." His steely voice said.
"So, all I need to do is pop out a baby for my freedom?" I grit through my teeth.
"Freedom," he chuckles sinisterly, "There is no such thing for humans."
My lips tug into a sneer, "As long as I'm away from you, that's freedom."
Lazarus laughed, a deeply coarse sound. "I'm glad I could be of your entertainment." I retort sarcastically.
He arose from the chair with ease, advancing towards me. Lazarus traces my cheek with his fingertips, an electric current branding my skin from his touch as I'm locked in a trance. His lips curl into a malicious smirk, "You are my slave Bellatrix."
There was no escaping him. Lazarus aura was magnetic and powerful, devouring anything he set his sight on. His burly figure loomed over me, a perfectly tailored three-piece suit that blended with the night sky. He was the epitome of malevolence, jet-black hair with faded sides while the top was sleeked back except for a few strands cascading over his forehead, his face carved of stone and perfection.
However, his dark eyes were the most enchanting. They were truly evanescent, an art of sorcery and sin. Lazarus was the physical embodiment of my destruction, dragging me into an unholy abyss that the darkest parts of me craved.
Lazarus is my curse, a sickening part of me already felt corrupted by his vile soul.
Unknowingly, he captures my wrist. Tension thickening the atmosphere between us, the sugary and spicey taste of our catastrophe on my tongue as he placed my palm over his hardened cock. He throbbed against my palm, leaving me in a daze of fear and lust that I can't seem to escape. Swallowing thickly as my pussy fluttered, I shouldn't be this attracted to him, but I was.
Lazarus exhales against my ear, coating my skin in goosebumps of anticipation and arousal. "Bellatrix," his voice smooth and rich like whiskey, "Please your master." He commands.
