Thorn (Werewolf)

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Chapter Two

I sit on the edge of the chair as Lyle pours us drinks. I keep my attention on the door, my body readying itself to flee at a moment’s notice. I wasn’t prepared for this and I don’t know what my reaction will be if he tries to force himself onto me.

“The King is pleased with my decision,” Lyle says as he passes me the glass of wine. “And so am I.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

He positions a chair right in front of mine so that our knees are touching. I stare at my leg as his hand runs along my thigh beneath my dress. I know what is happening but I am paralyzed to stop it. I turn my face away sharply, breathing heavily at the floor.

“Let me get one thing clear,” Lyle says, he grabs my chin and snaps my head back to the centre. “You only exist for my pleasure and for pregnancy. Your body will be at my disposal whenever I demand it to be.”

He stands up and circles around my chair. I hear him stop directly behind me and I take a large sip of the wine before one of his hands pins me backwards into the chair and the other trails down my chest.

I try to push my legs closed but he tears them back open. His hand pulls the end of my dress all the way up to my waist.

“It’s only fair that I inspect the merchandise before I commit,” he says. “I must get your body ready for our wedding night.”

I am becoming angrier and angrier. I am so close to snapping but if I fight back then he’ll do even worse things. His lips kiss against my throat and his fingers slip into my underwear. I have never been touched like this and so many things are happening at once. My body is betraying me, it is twinging with arousal, but my eyes are dropping tears that soak my cheeks as my heart stings with a painful resistance. I feel his fingers enter me over and over again, he can’t quite get a good grip from the angle of being behind me so he walks back to the front and kneels down between my legs. He stares right into my eyes as he pushes his fingers back and forth. I bite down as I snarl; he watches my every reaction with a dark and twisted smirk.

I breathe with relief as he takes his hand back. I hurriedly push my dress back down my legs as he walks over to a desk and wipes his fingers on a napkin. I bring the glass of wine back to my lips, my hand is trembling and I stare at it intensely, trying to calm myself so that I don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s almost broken me.

“I am satisfied with you,” he says. “You are mine now. I have marked you for consummation.”

Marked me? That makes me feel sick. I hold my breath as the soreness between my legs begins to grow.

“Are you grateful that I chose you?” he asks.

I still can’t speak. I wipe the remainder of my tears and I look back to the door. Lyle has the power to order guards to drag me back inside if I choose to run. I know that I won’t make it far but anything is better than staying here.

“Answer me!” he demands.

“Yes,” I say, pinching my eyes closed.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I am grateful that you chose me,” I say.

“You will soon be married to the future King,” he says, grinning at me as he crosses the room and spreads his hands on either side of my chair’s armrests. His face is inches from mine and his breath is horrid. I look at his thick arms that flex as he holds the chair. I suddenly have the image of those arms pinning me to a bed. “You will have privilege and wealth that some only dream of. But first, you must conceive my child. The other potentials will be scurrying to marry now too so it will be a race to conceive an heir. You will do everything in your power to get pregnant because you are really not going to like my attitude if you don’t.” His fingers pinch against my chin until I cry out. “Understand?”

I nod.

“Good. You may leave. I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow.”

My heart almost stops. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, I am not delaying. Sleep well.”

He grabs the wine glass from my hand forcefully and I almost run to the door. I clench my hand into a fist as I charge down the hallway. My anger melts away when I am alone in my bedroom, it is replaced by an emotional scream that I contain into my pillow.

I scream until there is no air left in my lungs. I cry until there is no water left in my eyes. And then I fall unconscious.

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