**~Cyrius’s POV~**
My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as though a million bricks were pressing down on them. My head throbbed, every beat of my pulse echoing like a hamr against my skull. I couldn’t rember... not properly. Just flashes.
Now, my eyes fluttered open, and a low groan escaped . I was... sowhere. The air slled faintly of lavender and wood polish, and the sight before clawed at sothing deep in my mor..this was my room. My room back in France. The sa one I stayed in with Hazel and her twins
But sothing was wrong.
I tried to sit up, but the mont I moved, the tallic bite of cold iron clamped around my wrists and ankles.
Chains. Real chains. I twisted, tugged, but each movent only made them rattle louder. My arms were spread to the bedposts, my ankles pinned, like a prisoner awaiting judgnt.
"What the hell?" My voice cracked. "Where am I? What’s happening?"
My mind raced. Who would drag back to France? Who would chain like this?
And then it hit —a scent, sudden and unmistakable, brushing against my senses like a mory. Warm vanilla. Wild musk. Hazel.
My chest tightened. "Hazel...?"
The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. A figure slipped inside. The scent grew stronger, headier, until it filled every inch of the room. And then I saw her.
Hazel.
She stepped in like a goddesso, brunette hair tumbling over her shoulders, brown eyes gleaming with a strange. My jaw slackened. She wore a sheer nightgown, nearly transparent, teasing every curve of her body. Her breasts outlined, her skin glowing faintly in the low light.
She smiled at ...no, smirked. A predator’s smile.
"H–Hazel," I stamred. "What’s going on? Why am I chained? What’s happening?"
She didn’t answer. Instead, she crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps, her hips swaying, the sound of her bare feet soft on the wooden floor. She reached and cupped my cheek, her touch gentle.
"Oh, Cyrius," she purred, her voice a velvet whisper in my ear. "How you doing, baby? You good?"
A shiver crawled down my spine. "Hazel—unchain . We need to get out of here. Who brought us here? Was it Dahlia?"
Her eyes flickered with sothing dark. "Dahlia? Oh, that woman’s dead." She tilted her head, her smile deepening. "I just want you to take care of ."
My heart pounded. "What do you an take care of you? Hazel, are you even in your right mind? We have to leave. Now."
"No leaving." Her voice hardened. "Don’t you see? This is the sa room you confessed your feelings to . The sa room where we spent our last night together... before I stabbed you."
The words hit like a blow.
She trailed her fingers down her lips, as though tasting her own guilt. "I wanted to apologize for that," she murmured. "I want you to take care of . Or maybe..." Her eyes flickered with mischief. "Maybe I should take care of you instead."
"Hazel!" I twisted against the chains, straining. "What are you thinking? What are you doing? Unchain now." But no matter how hard I pulled, my strength felt like it was leaking out of , as though the house itself drained it.
"Oh, darling," she said, almost teasing, "you can’t use your strength here. Not in this house. Not with ."
"Is any of this real?" I muttered. "Am I dreaming?"
I bit my tongue hard. Pain blood, and the tallic taste of blood filled my mouth. This was no dream. But it didn’t feel real either.
Hazel’s expression softened, but only slightly. "Don’t think of as Hazel," she whispered. "Don’t think of this as real or fake. Just... be in the mont. Feel it."
And then, before I could speak again, she reached for the thin straps of her gown. Slowly, with deliberate grace, she slid the fabric off her shoulders. The gown pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but lace, and then even that fell away.
Her full, plump breasts were bared, her skin warm and glowing. She cupped them in her hands, fingers toying with her nipples as she stared directly into my eyes.
"Believe yourself," she whispered. "Be in the mont."
"Be... what?" I stamred, my throat dry, my voice cracking like glass. "Release ! Now! And what are you doing?"
But even as I barked the words, my eyes refused to leave her body. She moved like liquid fire, like temptation given flesh. Every inch of her glowed under the dim light of the room—Hazel’s face, Hazel’s body, Hazel’s scent—only sharper, hungrier. My heart hamred, and sothing far lower inside strained against my pants.
I tried to shift my hips away from her, but the chains pinned flat. My cock was already thick and throbbing, an ache so intense it felt like it would tear through the fabric.
She noticed. Of course she noticed.
Her lips curved into a playful, almost childish smile. "Oh look," she said, tilting her head like a teasing lover. "Daddy is awake." She gestured at my straining bulge and giggled softly, a sound that was both cute and maddening.
"What are you doing?" I hissed, my teeth gritted, my muscles trembling.
She moved closer, her hips swaying with a predator’s grace. With a single finger, she traced the length of , even through the barrier of my pants. The heat of her touch burned. My body shuddered.
"Release yourself, Cyrius," she whispered.
I bit the inside of my mouth so hard I tasted blood. "Hazel—stop it."
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, I told you," she murmured. "Do not call Hazel. Don’t think any of this is real or fake. Just... be in the mont."
She reached for again, but this ti a growl tore out of , raw and animal. "Don’t touch ."
Because this wasn’t Hazel. It couldn’t be. My mate wouldn’t do this—not here, not now, not when our lives hung by a thread. She would be fighting beside my brothers, not chained in lace and perfu, whispering filth in my ear.
"You’re not Hazel," I spat. "Are you?"
Her smile deepened, a flash of sharp white teeth. "I already told you. Don’t call Hazel. Don’t think. Just feel."
"How can I feel," I snarled, "when you’re wearing my mate’s body, chaining here, dragging back into the past when I should be with my brothers?"
"Your brothers?" Her eyes flickered, briefly confused. "Who are they? Where is ’there’?" She leaned closer, her hair brushing against my jaw, her scent overwhelming. "Look, Cyrius. Nothing is real. Nothing is fake. Nothing exists. Just..." Her lips brushed my ear. "...fuck , and then you’ll go back to wherever you ca from."
Her words were honeyed poison. My body trembled, straining against the chains, caught between fury and hunger.
Finally my wolf intervened.
A low, deep growl reverberated inside my chest, a sound only I could hear. This is fake. This is a trap. If you give in to that lust, you’ll lose everything. This is nature testing you. You’re running through a test right now. Fight it. Fight it hard.
The voice surged like a tide, burning through . Fight it, Cyrius. Or everything, your brothers, your mate, your twins, will be gone.
I squeezed my eyes shut. My breath ca in ragged bursts. She was still whispering, still teasing, still tracing my skin with her fingers, but now her touch felt cold.
"I..." My voice cracked again. "I won’t."
My wolf’s voice rose, louder now, a snarl that filled my skull. Fight. Now.
This wasn’t a seduction. This was a battlefield.
I bared my teeth, a growl rumbling from deep in my chest. "You’re not Hazel," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "And you won’t have ."
She lay sprawled across the floor like a fever dream, With slow, deliberate fingers she dipped into her wet flowers.
"Oh, Cyrius..." she moaned, voice thick with honey. "This should be you right now. You should be the one touching . You should be the one sucking ..."
Every word dripped into my skull like poison. My wolf’s growl was fading, its voice growing distant. My body was betraying HARD.
"Don’t you want it?" she whispered. "Say it. Say you want it."
My head shook weakly. "No..." The word wouldn’t leave my throat. My mouth opened, but no sound ca, just breath. I was stuck between refusing and surrendering, pinned inside my own skin.
She crawled closer, breasts swaying heavy and obscene, her eyes locked on mine. Her fingers slid under the waistband of my pants and with one tug my cock sprang free, hard and aching. She gasped in mock surprise, licking her lips.
"Oh, you’re so big," she purred. "So huge. Let fuck you, baby."
Her hands wrapped around , stroking with slow, maddening pressure. She brought her mouth down, hovering, heat rolling off her in waves.
I flinched, dragging back as far as the chains allowed.
She pouted like a child denied candy. "Don’t be a baby, damn man. Let fuck you. Forget all of this." She pressed her breasts together, gliding her hands over them, saring the flower’s red across her nipples.
"Don’t you want to put your cock between my tits and clap until you see the clouds? Don’t you want to ease your stress?"
Her words were a knife sawing through the last thread of my control. My body scread yes. My heart scread no.
"Get out..." I snarled, my voice breaking. "Get out, you devil."
She tilted her head, her smile turning sharp. "Fine," she hissed. "Then I’ll take you anyway."
She lunged forward, mouth open, fingers clawing for .
Instinct took over. My leg snapped up and I kicked her hard in the chest. She fell back with a shriek, sliding across the floor.
I kicked again, striking her arm this ti. The illusion flickered, her body warping for a heartbeat before reforming.
Pain tore through my wrists as I yanked against the chains. tal groaned, then snapped. My left hand ca free, then my right. Blood ran down my palms, but I didn’t care.
I stumbled to my feet, heart hamring, cock still hard but my will finally stronger than the hunger.
She lay on the floor, laughing low, her form already starting to distort, hair turning black, eyes glowing green. "Run if you want, little wolf," she hissed. "You can’t outrun nature."
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