He casually coughed and shifted positions, stretching out on the cushions as if he were completely relaxed.
"So..." He said, throwing on a lazy smirk. "Work is over for the day?"
Soren didn’t respond.
Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward.
His head tilted slightly.
Amused.
But there was a dangerous glimr in his expression.
Riven knew he was caught.
Well, what could he even do after getting caught? He would not admit it until Soren outright said it! Delulu is solulu!
He wasn’t sure how, but he was certain Soren could see the guilt on his face.
Maybe it was the way his ears twitched.
Or how his tail flicked nervously.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that Soren was a damn predator.
The kind that could sll fear.
And Riven?
Oh, he reeked of it.
Soren let out a low hum, stepping closer.
Riven resisted the urge to fidget.
"You seem... tense," Soren murmured, his voice silky smooth but mocking.
Riven forced out a laugh.
"Hah! ? Tense?"
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Nonsense! I’m the picture of relaxation! Look at !"
He stretched his arms above his head for emphasis.
Soren’s lips curled.
A smirk.
But not a nice one.
More like the kind a predator had when it was toying with its prey.
He took another step.
Riven swallowed. What was going to happen to him, he did not know.
Soren walked toward the table with unhurried confidence, his deep obsidian eyes never leaving Riven.
The way he moved—slow, deliberate, like a predator circling its prey—made Riven’s tail twitch nervously.
Then, with an almost lazy grace, Soren reached for the box.
Riven held his breath.
He watched as Soren lifted the lid, his fingers moving with that sa predatory patience as if he already knew what had transpired.
And then, he pulled out the golden collar.
The very sa one Riven had touched.
No, caressed with genuine admiration.
But that didn’t matter right now. The point was, he was busted.
Soren ran a finger along the smooth gold before turning to Riven.
His gaze was unreadable, but there was a distinct, dark amusent in his expression.
"Did you touch the box?" Soren asked, his voice deceptively calm.
Riven imdiately shook his head.
"Nope. Not at all. Not even a little bit."
Bold-faced lie.
He even had the audacity to smile.
But the mont he saw Soren’s smirk widen, he knew.
Shit. He knows.
Soren took a step closer, the collar dangling between his fingers.
His voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur.
"Are you lying, little wolf?" He was giving Riven another chance. A chance to tell the truth. If he did, maybe he would be gentler.
Riven gulped.
The way Soren emphasised those words, slow and almost taunting, made every inch of fur on Riven’s tail bristle.
He had two options.
1. Continue lying and dig a deeper hole for himself.
2. Co clean like the honest little wolf he definitely wasn’t.
Riven sighed dramatically, flopping backwards onto the cushions.
"Okay, okay! You caught ~"
His ears flattened, but instead of looking guilty, he tilted his head playfully and batted his eyelashes. If he was going to get ’punished’ then he welcod it.
"You know ~ I’m just a curious little wolf."
Then, with a sly grin, he purred, "Your curious little wolf."
He even wiggled his ears for extra cuteness.
Surely, this would work.
It always worked!
Soren was a cold-blooded tyrant, but Riven had mastered the art of getting away with nonsense by acting adorable.
...Right?
Soren’s smirk deepened.
"Oh?"
That one word sent a shiver down Riven’s spine.
He suddenly felt very, very stupid.
Soren lifted the golden collar slightly, turning it in his fingers, and examining it.
Then, with a low chuckle, he murmured, "The little wolf didn’t wait for my orders."
His eyes darkened, filled with mock disappointnt.
"Therefore..."
Riven perked up.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait—
"...He has to be punished."
Riven gasped.
What do you an his tactics did not work?
Riven’s tail fluffed up in alarm.
Punished?!
His big erald eyes flickered between Soren’s smirk and the golden collar.
Oh no.
He knew that look.
The one that promised danger, possession, and an absolute refusal to let him go.
Riven swallowed hard, scooting back just slightly, but his dark gaze made it impossible to escape.
Soren watched him with predatory amusent.
"Scared, little wolf?"
Riven lifted his chin, defensive.
"N-No! I just don’t see why this is necessary!"
Soren humd, twirling the golden collar between his fingers.
"This?" His voice was deceptively soft. Too soft. "It’s a gift."
Gift, my ass.
Riven narrowed his eyes.
"And why does this ’gift’ look suspiciously like sothing you put on a pet?"
Soren’s smirk deepened.
"That’s because it is."
Riven gasped.
The audacity. THE SHEER AUDACITY.
He pointed a trembling finger. "I AM NOT A PET."
Soren didn’t react. He simply took a calculated step forward.
"You’re mine."
The words hung in the air, heavier than they had any right to be.
Riven’s breath hitched. The more he acted like this, the more Riven refused to go back to Ronan. But Raphael... He wished Soren would help him ensure Raphael’s safety... But knowing how this man acted, it would only put a target on Raffy’s head.
Riven’s heart pounded against his ribs, but he forced a smirk. "Yours? Do I have a say in this?"
Soren pretended to think for a second before smirking, "No."
He suddenly closed the distance, his presence overwhelming.
His scent... Dangerous, dominant, intoxicating, it wrapped around Riven like an inescapable embrace.
Riven’s body tensed, every nerve on high alert.
Soren raised the golden collar, letting it dangle just inches from Riven’s throat.
Then, in a tone deceptively gentle, he murmured,
"This will let everyone know that you belong to ."
Riven sputtered. "Co on now... It’s a bit deaning." But was that not Soren’s whole thing? He was into BDSM and also degradation, years of trauma ford his present kinks.
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