Powerful.
Inexorable.
She had smelled him. She had wanted him. She had chosen him.
Brushing at her own teeth marks with her fingers while he worked her insides, the rawness of her exposed emotions transformed into satisfaction. Her tears faded, replaced by enchantment.
She could do this. She would do this.
Some seed planted by her upbringing whispered like an extra voice in the back of her head, reminding her of how she had gotten here. It poked at her about her unsigned contract with Crispin and her family's expectations, demanding her outrage.
She pushed the thoughts aside as soon as they came, facing them down one by one while her alpha held her close. She wouldn't think on what she couldn't change.
That voice sounded like her mother's, and this was no place for her mother.
Intoxicated by their bond, vulnerable and open as a book, she gave him everything of herself. Normally allowing someone to see her in such a raw state would have made her embarrassed or ashamed.
But not with him.
With the monster, she felt free.
Chapter Seven
Darre
His release too-long denied, Darre's knot refused to relax. He hadn't been thinking when he’d shoved the sharp claw of his forefinger up her precious little ass, but it was now locked inside her by the massive swelling at the base of his dick. He couldn't remove the offending digit for fear of hurting her.
Maybe tomorrow the situation would be funny. He'd have a fucking story to tell.
Unable to move, worried about them becoming dehydrated, Darre felt like an idiot.
This was going to be an ongoing problem. He'd avoided putting his fingers in her tight little pussy for just this reason. He'd need to cut one of his claws off. File it down.
Better make it two.
Three.
Damn. She was declawing him.
His berserker gloated at the thought, ridiculously pleased with himself.
Darre did not want a mate. He had done everything in his power to kill the desire for a mate that burned inside him.
He had devoted himself to his memories. Sweet Alennie. Adorable Alennie. Shy. Quiet. Everything an omega breeder should be.
Obedient. Biddable. Sun-gilt and full of life. He'd been afraid to hurt her or frighten her. He couldn't imagine daring to rub his thumb down her crease, much less jamming his favorite disemboweling tool up her asshole in search of an omega's hidden pleasure nodule.
Now he was locked tight and tangled up with this little thing his monster had claimed.
She needed water, and he needed protein to last through her heat. Accustomed to his rages and self-isolation, his people wouldn't come knocking at his door, wouldn't offer any aid.
They'd learned long ago that trying to placate brought about the deaths of well-intentioned people when the monster thought they'd crossed a line.
On average, a knot rarely lasted twenty or thirty minutes. Darre wasn't so sure about his, though. He'd never knotted a female before, had never even cum in one.
When he'd been young and still dicking around, he hadn't wanted any beta or drone offspring chasing after him. He wanted the dream—Alennie and her blessing—the peace, and a purr to ease the ugly of his soul.
Why should he have settled for a weak, transitory emotional connection with a beta? It would never have been enough.
