[ AURORA’S POV ]
The mattress was too soft, making me feel like I was sinking into a trap. I climbed onto the high bed, my movements jerky and stiff.
Every muscle in my body wanted to curl into a ball, to hide, but I forced myself to lie flat on my back.
My breath hitched as I slowly parted my legs. The cool air hit my skin, making me shiver, but the shame was worse than the cold.
I stared up at the dark canopy of the bed, a heavy, broken sigh escaping my lips. This was it. This was how it ended.
A moment later, the bed groaned.
The mattress dipped violently as he climbed on. The sheer weight of him sent a ripple through the blankets, pulling me toward his side of the bed.
I whimpered, my eyes snapping shut as a bead of cold sweat rolled down my spine.
I tried to brace myself. I tried to imagine my soul leaving my body so I wouldn't have to feel whatever was coming next. But I couldn't.
All I could feel was the terrifying heat of him closing in, and the sound of his ragged, animal-like breathing filling the space between us.
He was right there. I could feel his shadow falling over me, blotting out the moonlight.
The bed jolted under his weight. He didn't wait. He didn't whisper sweet words or try to ease the terror out of me.
Before I could even gasp, his body was a crushing weight on top of mine. He was solid muscle and burning skin, pinning me into the mattress until I felt like the air was being squeezed out of my lungs.
My hands flew up instinctively to push at his chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
He grabbed both of my wrists in one hand, snapping them up above my head and pinning them against the headboard.
The strength in his grip was terrifying, I felt like my bones might crack if I struggled.
"Don't fight me," he growled in my ear. His voice was a jagged mess of hunger and pain.
I felt his teeth sink into the sensitive skin of my shoulder—not enough to draw blood, but enough to make me cry out.
His other hand dragged down my body, his touch heavy and demanding as he forced my legs wider.
There was no King left in his eyes when he looked down at me. There was only the wolf. He looked at me like I was something to be consumed, something to be broken.
My breath came in sharp, jagged sobs. I felt the rough fabric of his trousers against my inner thighs, and then the sudden, shocking heat of his skin. He moved with a raw, frantic energy, his movements jerky and desperate.
He didn't look at my face anymore. He was focused on the kill. The air was ripped from my lungs as he shoved himself into me.
It felt like being torn apart from the inside. A scream tore out of my throat, raw and jagged, echoing against the cold stone walls of the chamber.
I thrashed, my instinct taking over as I tried to crawl away, to get off the bed, to escape the white-hot pain. But his hand was like a vice.
He gripped my hip so hard his fingers bruised my skin, anchoring me to the mattress. There was no escape. I was pinned under a mountain of muscle and fur-scented heat.
He didn't pause. He didn't let me adjust.
A guttural, chest-shaking growl ripped from his throat—a sound of pure, animal hunger.
He pulled back, and for a split second, I thought he might stop. I gasped, sucking in a lungful of air, but then he slammed back into me.
The second strike was even more brutal than the first.
My head hit the headboard with a dull thud. My vision swam with black spots and tears.
I felt my legs shaking, my muscles seizing up as he began a relentless, punishing rhythm. Every time he surged forward, it felt like he was trying to claim not just my body, but my very soul.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands clawing at the silk sheets until my nails felt like they would snap. I was drowning in him.
The smell of him, the heat of his skin, and the terrifying, rhythmic sound of his growls filled the entire world.
I let out a shriek that felt like it would tear my own throat. My body was locked, frozen in a state of pure, primal terror. I was certain that if I struggled too hard, he would simply snap me in two.
"Stop... please, it hurts!" I sobbed, the words coming out as a broken, breathless mess.
But the man I knew as the King was gone. The creature above me didn't hear words, he only heard the pulse of my blood and the sound of my fear.
His massive hand shifted, his fingers digging into my backside with a grip so bruising it forced me to arch my back. He didn't slow down. He pulled out completely, a split second of cold air that made me gasp, and then he slammed back into me with a force that made the entire bed frame rattle against the wall.
The impact was brutal. It was a collision that should have broken me.
But then, something shifted.
The white-hot sting of the pain began to blur at the edges. My breath hitched, and instead of a sob, a low, shaky moan slipped past my lips.
My skin felt like it was on fire, a strange, terrifying heat spreading from where we were joined and rushing up my spine.
I tried to swallow the sound, but it happened again, a soft, involuntary cry that sounded nothing like fear.
The sound of my moan was like gasoline on a fire.
The King snapped. A roar, deeper and more animal than anything I’d ever heard, erupted from his chest. His restraint, the tiny thread of humanity he’d been clinging to, finally disintegrated.
He lunged forward, his teeth bared as he buried his face in my neck. He wasn't just taking me anymore, he was devouring me.
His movements became frantic, a blur of raw, unhinged power. He was a beast in a frenzy, his breath coming in hot, jagged bursts against my skin as he lost himself completely to the rut.
I was lost, too, tossed about in the storm of his madness, my own cries growing louder as the world outside the room ceased to exist.
