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Chapter 31

Note: 18+ Explicit mature content, violence, gore


The marking was complete.

Or so the blissful expression on the fucker’s face would suggest. But my wolf and I, we, weren’t going to let it end like that. He wasn’t going to have a forever after with us. No. We might have been bruised, but we weren’t fucking broken. Not yet.

Not yet.

I felt the taste of blood under my tongue, and it fueled my resentment. Before this little piece of shit could get out of his haze and understand what we were about to do, we moved our mouth up, bit into his neck, and jerked our head to the side, ripping the artery open with our teeth. Red gushed out, painting the walls, splashing my face, dripping off my lips...

The psycho looked at me with a shocked expression as he touched the wound, a funny gurgling sound leaving him before he collapsed on the mattress, his unseeing gaze locked on the ceiling.

I leaned to the side and puked a second later.

Trembling, I hugged my legs close to my body and hid my face between my knees. It was over.


Sometime later, I heard the commotion outside and then the light sound of steps. I didn’t look up to see who came in - it didn’t actually matter. But I felt him anyway; his sweet smell pierced the stench of blood, death, dank, and sex. The mattress dented under the weight of his body, and I hugged my knees closer, whimpering. I didn’t want to face him. I couldn’t face him. Not after...

He placed his arms under my knees and lifted me up. I tried to wriggle free, but he hugged me even more tightly, his erratic heartbeat familiar and safe.

I started crying, breaking into thousand little pieces again, my heart bleeding for him, for us, for my innocence.

“I’m sorry, Gemma. I’m so sorry...” Zack said, drawing circles on my back, his voice odd. “But it’s over. It’s over now. Let me get you home.”

I just nodded, feeling guilty, dirty, and broken.


10 months later

I sat up abruptly, disoriented.

I was short of breath. Cold beads of sweat gathered at my forehead and the nape of my neck, slowly dripping down my back. A heavy arm was wrapped around my waist, pinning me to the mattress, locking me...

I was trapped! Oh God, it was that psycho! He came back for me. He was here...!

A strangled whimper left my mouth as I started heaving loudly, struggling to get free. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t breathe...

“Easy, Gemma. It’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe...” An all too familiar, drowsy voice pulled me out of my panic attack. My head snapped to the side where Zack was lying beside me, his hair ruffled, his cyan blue eyes half-lidden, watching me with wariness. The boy slowly withdrew his arm, masking the hurt I knew was there with a careful smile.

I exhaled loudly, wiping sweat from my head, and wordlessly got out of bed, heading for the bathroom. I was a shivering mess, and I hated it. I hated what I became. I hated that my relationship with Zack was now tainted with... this.

I opened the tap, splashed my face with the cold water, and looked at myself in the mirror. My wolf was peaking through my eyes, ready to break free and defend us any second now. But there was no threat. It was only my fucking head.

I sighed and wiped my face in the towel.

It had been almost ten months since I had been kidnapped and raped by that psycho, ten months since the car crash in which Keely had lost her life. I was now a fully-fledged werewolf, a high school graduate, and a green belt. I moved out of my parents, finding a fragile semblance of peace by Zack’s side. We were officially a thing, though we had not completed the marking yet. With how messed up I was, our intimacy ended up only on a stolen kiss here or there or a hug if I wasn’t too panicked at the time to run for hills. However slow, the progress was, nevertheless, steady. It helped that Zack was incredibly patient with me and gave me all the time I needed.

But I could feel his pain, and I was scared that he would finally snap or lose interest altogether. I saw his need to complete the marking. I actually craved it too, yet I was too scared to make a move, too wrapped up in the image of that loser forcing himself on me to allow myself to be touched. It made me angry. I wanted to put the psycho behind, to move forward. I wanted to erase it all.

And I was finally about to.

I took a deep, steadying breath and left the bathroom, resolved. I was a jumble of nerves, but I climbed the bed with a purpose. Zack peeked a sleepy eye at me, but something in my expression put him on full alert. He sat up as I straddled him.

“Wha...?” He started. Before I could chicken out, I smashed my lips in his, showing him, rather than telling, what I wanted. He entertained me for a while, then suddenly stopped the kiss and pressed his forehead against mine. “Are you sure...?” He asked, piercing me with those cyan blue eyes, full of want and love.

Was I sure?

I bit my lip and nodded slowly. Zack exhaled silently, then he kissed me again, deliberately if a bit warily. He tangled his hand in my hair, gently massaging my scalp, helping me to relax even more. I melted into him, but still placed my hands on his shoulders ready to push him away as panic fought for a better with the sudden carnal lust I felt.

I tried to convince myself I was in control - Zack made no move to pin me down or rush me, letting me take my time - and it worked a bit. I started to calm down as our tongues and lips danced, molding together until, finally, I felt confident enough to move things further. My mouth went to the side of his jaw, nipping its way down Zack’s neck to the place my wolf wanted to mark. He moaned, and his erection poked me through the sheets that were still between us.

I froze, opening my eyes abruptly, more than ready to flee. My heart was beating erratically in my chest, my breath coming out in short gasps...

I met Zack’s gaze. There was no judgment in his eyes, no anger or condemnation, just love and understanding. He was waiting for my decision and was ready for whichever.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down.

I wasn’t going to shy away this time. I wasn’t going to let that fucker take my choices from me. Not anymore.

I took a steadying breath and kissed Zack some more, slowly removing the last barrier between us - the sheets and his pyjama bottoms. He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth as cool air met his huge, swollen member. I gulped, feeling both intimidated and, oddly, aroused. Carefully, I slid my hands down his bare chest towards his manhood. I started stroking it, strangely intrigued, learning its size and length, getting used to its silky texture. Zack moaned, closing his eyes as my hand increased its pace, moving up and down with greed and confidence I was surprised I still possessed.

I liked what my touch did to him. I enjoyed being in control. It was kind of liberating.

“Gosh, Gemma, you’re killing me...” Zack murmured as his tip glistened with a pre-cum.

I circled my thumb over it, slicking it down his length. He grunted, fisting his hands in the sheets but still made no move to take charge. It made my wolf howl in appreciation, her lust fueling my own.

I could no longer hide the smell of my own arousal, not from Zack, not from myself. The boy opened his eyes and looked at me, his nostrils flaring, his irises fully wolf. But for the first time in those bloody ten months, I didn’t shy away from the desire I saw in them. Rather than that, I welcomed it as I removed my shorts and deliberately guided his tip to my pulsing, sensitive entrance while still holding Zack’s gaze.

I rubbed my slick folds with him, testing my reaction, making us both moan. More wetness dripped from me, making it easier for Zack to enter me, should I let him. And I did, slowly lowering myself down his shaft. I felt the intrusion as my body got adjusted to his size and length. I froze again. My heart was galloping in my chest. I was panting, but not from need.

I gulped, then slowly lifted myself up. I was going to do it. I was going to start anew.

I lowered myself again. And again. And again.

Until I was panting, but not from fear. Until wetness was soaking Zack’s manhood so much, he went in me like a knife through butter. Until I no longer knew who was moaning louder. Until I was begging for Zack to pound in me as hard as if our lives depended on it. Until we both lost control and roared our pleasure when we sunk our teeth in each other’s necks. Until all the jagged scars that the psycho left in me were covered in the tattoos of Zack and me.

Until the light finally blossomed in my heart...

The end...

of part 1.


Thank you all for being with Zack and Gemma until the end, for all your kind words and feedback. I hope you enjoyed the story, as short as it was.

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