It was that fire in her that captivated Gavriel the most. She had nothing left... no power, no protection yet she didn’t cower. Any other woman in her place would have begged for rcy, but Althea stood her ground. Perhaps it was courage... or maybe the stubborn belief that her father would eventually co for her.
Gavriel sat on the edge of the makeshift bed, his gaze fixed on her. Slowly, he leaned closer until only an inch separated them. A faint, amused smile curved his lips as he murmured to her ear, “Yes, you shouldn’t break so easily, little wolf. I need you to get to your father, so behave well... and don’t make angry.”
Her lips parted slightly, and that was all the invitation he needed. He captured her mouth in a heated kiss. She didn’t resist; instead, her arms instinctively slipped around his neck.
When she finally pulled back, her breath brushed against his ear as she whispered, “You told to behave, and I’ll do as you say. Don’t mistake this for surrender, My King. This is —trying to survive your hold.”
Gavriel frowned, amused despite himself. This woman always found a way to challenge him, even in the smallest monts. He didn’t want to admit it aloud, but he found it... intriguing.
Then Althea leaned in and kissed him.
He could tell she was trying to be brave. Her lips were soft but unsure, and he felt the faint tremble in her body as she pressed the kiss on him a little clumsily. Even so, there was a sincerity in it that tightened sothing in his chest.
He didn’t return Althea’s kiss right away this ti. He hovered over her, studying her face as if weighing two sides of a war inside him. But the mont she touched his jaw with those trembling fingers, sothing in him flickered, a crack of heat pushing through the stone.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low, steady but threatening. “You keep touching like that and you’ll forget who I am.”
Althea’s breath faltered, but she didn’t pull her hand away. “I haven’t forgotten, My King.”
“Good,” Gavriel said, though his jaw clenched, contradicting the cool tone. “Because I am a man who owes your father oceans of blood.”
A faint sting shot through Althea’s chest. Still, she whispered softly, “I’m not him.”
Gavriel’s expression didn’t soften. But his gaze dropped to her mouth again, betraying his restraint. “No,” he agreed, almost grudgingly. “Indeed, you’re not him.”
Gavriel leaned close, lips brushing her ear. “But you carry his blood.”
Her pulse thundered. She could have gone still, any other woman would have, but instead she forced herself to et his gaze. Then his mouth crashed against hers — fierce, demanding, almost punishing.
Althea’s gasp broke into a sharp exhale as his hand slid along her thigh, lifting her leg to his waist. She wasn’t prepared for how deeply he kissed her, how completely he swallowed her breath, how every controlled touch felt like he was claiming sothing he had no intention of returning.
And yet... she kissed him back. Soft at first. Then bolder, warming under the force of him. She tangled her fingers in the back of his hair, pulling him closer because it felt impossible not to.
“You’re doing it again,” he murmured against her lips.
“Doing what?” she breathed, dazed.
“Playing .”
Althea blinked, caught, but refused to shrink. “If I’m playing... you’re letting .”
His eyes blazed as he grabbed her wrists gently but firmly, pinning them above her head. “No, little wolf. I am in control and will always be.”
But she didn’t look frightened. She looked... aware and he noticed. He noticed how she angled her chin just enough to keep her dignity even when pinned. He noticed that every ti he tried to intimidate her, she didn’t crumble.
It made him furious. It made him hungry. It made him want her.
Gavriel kissed her again, slower this ti, deeper, letting the desire take shape without ever losing control. His hand settled firmly on her hip, guiding her closer. When her thigh brushed his waist, she felt it his hard length pressed against her before she even realized he was already bare.
Then he pushed into her in one sharp, deep thrust.
A soft gasp escaped her. She still felt a bit of discomfort at how massive he was, her body stretching around him. But Gavriel moved slowly, his breaths rough against her cheek as he eased her into the rhythm. Her back arched as the pain faded little by little, replaced by warm waves of pleasure each ti he drew back and slid into her again, steady and gentle.
Her breaths trembled, but she didn’t pull away. And he didn’t rush her. He simply held her, controlled and intense, letting her body adjust to his even as the heat between them deepened.
He kissed down her neck, biting lightly at the pulse point until she trembled beneath him.
“Tell ,” he whispered against her skin, each word a hot breath, “is this you surviving... or surrendering?”
Althea let out a shaky exhale. “Neither.”
“Then what?” His lips trailed lower.
She swallowed hard. “This is ... choosing.”
When Althea whispered his na, quiet and real, it broke through his restraint. For a mont he forgot everything. He forgot Cain. He forgot her lineage. There was only her — her warmth, her breath, her body soft beneath his hands.
Her thighs tightened around him, pulling him closer without thinking, and he answered with a deeper thrust that dragged a soft cry from her lips.
Her back arched into him. Pleasure rippled through her, sharp and overwhelming, and she clung to him as the rhythm built. Gavriel’s breathing grew heavier, each thrust stronger than the last, as if he was done fighting the pull she had on him.
“Althea...” His voice broke.
Her nails dug into his skin when the pleasure surged again, faster, harder. His hand slid up her spine, holding her flush against him as he drove into her with a force that left her gasping. The heat coiled tight in her belly, unbearably close to breaking.
“Look at ,” he commanded softly.
She lifted her gaze. The mont their eyes t, everything in her unraveled. Her climax hit hard. Her body convulsed around him, tightening so sharply that Gavriel’s control snapped.
He buried himself deep with a harsh groan, his grip tightening as he followed her over the edge, releasing with a force he couldn’t hold back.
But when she curled against him afterward, his body went still. The haze shattered. Reality returned cold and sharp. She was Cain’s daughter, the traitor’s blood who almost killed her sister Riela and drove her to insanity.
Gavriel drew back. Althea looked up, startled by how fast his expression shut down.
“Gavriel?”
He didn’t answer. He stood, fixing his clothes, his face turning to stone.
“Rest,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”
She pushed up. “You’re leaving?”
He paused and grunted, “...A king doesn’t stay in the bed of his enemy’s blood.”
The words hit her like a blow. Before she could respond, he stepped out and left her alone.
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