This Chapter contains mature and sensitive content, including scenes of psychological distress. These elents are integral to the characters’ journeys and the dark thes of the story, but they may be triggering or uncomfortable for so readers.
Please read at your own discretion.
If you are uncomfortable directly proceed with Chapter 46.
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Lucian’s POV ~
She turned her face away from .
That one small movent. That one deliberate, shattering act... it broke sothing inside .
As if I was filth. As if my touch would sar dirt on her body.
And she is so untouchable goddess who couldn’t bear to be tainted by soone like .
My chest rose and fell with erratic breath. I stared down at her tear-streaked face, and all I could feel was heat boiling in my veins. Rage, sha, need all of them twisted inside at once.
She wasn’t supposed to cry for him. Did he matter to her so much?
She wasn’t supposed to look at like I was the monster...like I had stolen sothing sacred.
My fingers dug into her chin again, forcing her to look at . "Look at , damn you," I hissed, my voice barely human. "You don’t get to look away from ."
Her lips trembled, but her goddamn eyes still refused to et mine.
And sothing snapped inside . I could no longer tolerate her like this. All my reasoning was gone, and before I realized it... my mouth caught her cherry-like lips.
I crushed my mouth to hers in a harsh, desperate, uninvited way, forcing my tongue past her lips. It wasn’t a kiss ant to be soft. It wasn’t ant to be gentle. It was anger — the rage boiling inside for years. It was punishnt for her, so she could feel even a fraction of the pain from my years of suffering, all because of her.
A cry for her to feel what I had felt.
She struggled beneath , her muffled whimpers only fueling the madness burning through . But I still wasn’t done... I wanted her to feel what she had done to .
My free hand gripped her thigh and clenched it hard enough to leave a mark, dragging her body flush against mine. Her already flimsy gown had ridden up past her stomach, leaving her bare beneath , with only a single piece of fabric separating us.
Like if I held her close enough, I could make her understand... what she had done to , and to my wolf.
But it wasn’t enough.
Nothing was enough.
My hand moved on its own, roaming up the curve of her waist, tracing the softness of skin I had once only dread of touching. Every inch ignited sothing inside —pain, need, fury—all tangled into a storm I could no longer control.
Her breath hitched beneath , but I didn’t stop. My fingers slid over her stomach, up to the dip of her collarbone, morizing every line like it could sohow erase the mories that haunted . As if knowing her body now could make up for the years she had belonged to soone else—anyone else but .
I needed her to feel this. To feel .
To feel the tornt I’d carried, buried under every shift of the moon, every silent night when my wolf cried for the betrayal.
Her scent flooded my senses, sweet and maddening. My palm brushed over her breast, hesitant only for a second before I gripped it...not with tenderness, but with desperation, like I could anchor my sanity there.
Still... it wasn’t enough.
Because no matter how close I held her, no matter how bare she was beneath , the space between us remained—aching, hollow, broken because of what she had made .
She trembled beneath .
Not from desire—but from fear. From confusion. From the weight of everything crashing down around us.
Her hands pushed weakly against my chest, her palms shaking as if even touching burned. Her legs tensed beneath my grip, trying to shift, trying to close—anything to shield herself. But I held her too firmly. I was everywhere. And still... she fought with all her might.
Her body writhed beneath mine, soft and desperate, and it only fed the storm in .
"No—please—" she gasped, her voice hoarse and broken between muffled cries. Her head turned to the side again, refusing to et my eyes, her hair clinging to her tear-streaked cheek.
But her body... gods, her body trembled like a fragile thread about to snap. Her chest heaved against , and when I kneaded her breast, she let out a strangled sob, biting her lip so hard I thought she’d bleed.
I should have stopped.
I knew I should have.
And still, I couldn’t stop.
Because she would always look at like I was less. Like I was the one who ruined everything. Like I didn’t bleed the day my world was destroyed. Like I wasn’t the boy who once dread she might be the only light left in it.
I was lost.
Drowning in mory. In rage. In the ghost of a love that had rotted into sothing far more dangerous.
Until...pain shot through my mind.
My mouth filled with the taste of iron, and I jerked back with a hiss, blood flooding over my tongue. She had bitten . So hard that I bled.
And in that instant... everything shattered.
The haze cleared. The fire in my veins turned cold. My breathing hitched as I stared at her beneath —really saw her. Not as the ghost I’d been chasing. Not as the past I wanted to punish.
Her lips were swollen, sared with saliva and red where her teeth had scraped against my mouth. Her tear-streaked face was pale, eyes wide with fear. Her body—gods—her body was covered in the proof of my cruelty.
Finger-shaped bruises already blooming on her thighs where I had gripped her too hard. Her gown twisted and bunched around her hips. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
I staggered back like I’d been burned, like I had touched sothing sacred and defiled it.
What had I done? I couldn’t even look at her. I didn’t deserve to.
Sha crawled up my throat, but I swallowed it—choked it down with the bitterness of my own guilt. My fists clenched at my sides as I stepped back, refusing to touch her again. Refusing to even help her fix the ss I’d made.
Still, I couldn’t leave her with silence. Silence would an regret. And I couldn’t allow myself to regret this, not after what she has done. I dare not pity her.
So I said the one thing I knew would burn deeper than any bruise I left on her skin.
I looked at her trembling form and sneered.
"This is where you belong, Selene," I spat, my voice as cold as I could muster. "Crawling and crying on the floor, right where you belong...under my boots."
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