Beside him, Astra curled inward, her limbs tangled in torn sheets. Her hair clung to her damp skin, wild and knotted, and her wild eyes were dull with tears, staring at the stone ceiling above.
The room bore the scars of their violent activity; claw marks on stone, blood sared like art across sheets. There was no tenderness here – only desperation, destruction, and the undeniable scent of war disguised as desire.
"So, it’s her," he mumbled. "It has always been her."
He finally found out the reason behind his sudden heat cycles.
"Who are you talking about?" Astra asked, her voice hoarse, brittle like cracked glass. She dragged her battered body up against his.
The masked man didn’t look at her. His gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight, eyes stormy with evil and mischief. For a mont, he didn’t answer.
Suddenly, he chuckled. Then he roared with unbridled laughter.
Astra was stunned. She’d never seen him so excited...except when he turned so rogues into monsters. The thought sent shivers down her spine.
This man was scary. She knew. But she loved it.
"My mate," he finally said, the na rolling off his tongue like a curse and a prayer all at once.
Astra flinched as if struck. Her breath caught in her throat.
The silence that followed was heavier than stone.
"Y– your mate?" she whispered, voice trembling. "Y– you have a mate?" she raised her head from his chest.
He turned his head then, slowly, eyes sharp beneath the shadows, but filled with mad joy. "You don’t think I should?"
Astra swallowed. Dare she say otherwise, she knew he’d snap her neck without a second thought, or skin her alive and turn her into a monster like he did to the other rogues.
She tried to smile, but it ca out crooked and terrified. "Of course you should," Astra whispered. "You’re... powerful. Beautiful. Why wouldn’t the goddess choose soone for you?"
His grin widened at that—too bright. Too beautiful. Too evil. The kind of smile that could lure you into hell.
He rolled onto his side, his hand sliding up her throat with mock gentleness. Not choking –yet– but just enough to remind her who held the strings.
"She’s not just soone," he murmured, his thumb brushing the base of her jaw. "She is better than you all combined." He continued with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "She’s fire and shadow. Light and storm. A girl they tried to undermine... but she rules them now, doesn’t she?"
Astra didn’t breathe. Her pulse beat frantically beneath his touch. A girl they tried to undermine...?
"You’ve seen her, haven’t you?" he said suddenly, voice low and gleaming with cruel delight. "The one who walks like prey but hunts them like a predator. The one the rogues hates, but admires when they think no one listens."
Astra’s mouth parted, but no words ca.
He leaned closer, his breath hot on her ear. "Tell , little dove. Does she still smile like she was not broken, like she doesn’t need to quench her heat? Does she still carry his scent?"
A chill ran down Astra’s spine. His scent. Her mind rushed. But she didn’t know who he was talking about.
"I don’t know who you an," she said carefully, eyes flicking toward the broken gold mask on the floor.
He hissed, annoyed. "Why are you not smart like her?" His grip on her neck tightened just for a few seconds, just enough to make Astra gasp and go still.
Seeing her going limp, he scowled. "You’re no fun."
Then he let go.
She collapsed onto the sheets, coughing violently, her hands trembling as she covered her throat. Her pulse throbbed in her ears.
He almost killed her. She saw her life flash before her. Astra coughed.
The masked man sat up slowly, muscles shifting beneath spotless skin. He rose like a lion growing bored of his bleeding prey. He picked up the mask and stared at it—cracked down the middle, like sothing holy had split in rage.
"She’s mine," he murmured. "She always was. But he got to her first." His lips curled in disdain. "He touched what was mine. Claid her. Defiled her with his tenderness and promises."
Astra stayed silent. She knew better than to speak now.
He stood suddenly, his presence filling the room like a stormcloud. "I’ll carve her out of him," he said, voice dark. "Tear her free with blood and bone if I must. And when she sees what I’ve done for her... she’ll understand."
He turned to Astra again, mask in hand, naked and terrifying in the flickering lamp. "You’ve served your purpose. Be grateful I let you love —for a mont."
Astra swallowed her cry. She didn’t plead. She knew pleading made it worse.
"The Alpha you want to kill, is he here yet?" he asked.
"I– I don’t know. I’ve not asked."
"Then ask."
Astra hesitated but only for a mont. She knew better than to disobey. She reached for the sheets, wrapping them around her naked body as she crawled off the bed, her body sore from the chaos they’d just shared.
The room spun around her, and for a mont, the world felt like it was slipping through her fingers. The man was dangerous, terrifying, and yet... she couldn’t deny the strange pull she still felt toward him.
She had seen him tear through people, rip apart their souls with words and violence. She had witnessed him destroy those who crossed him without rcy. But it wasn’t just fear that tethered her to him; it was sothing darker, sothing she couldn’t shake even as her mind scread at her to run.
Still, she got to her feet, shaky but determined. She crossed the room to the door, pausing only to glance back at him. His figure was a shadow against the dim light, every muscle taut, every inch of him exuding danger.
But his eyes... those eyes, gleaming with madness and satisfaction, were fixed on her like a predator watching its prey.
"Does he not have a na?" he questioned, more forceful now.
"He does," she tried to answer without fear, but she couldn’t help the tremble in her voice. "Alpha Dren," she replied.
He waved her over. "Then, I’ll find him when I’m not happy." He muttered, but just as he was about to leave, Astra’s voice sounded before her mind could think.
"At least, tell your na."
He paused...
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