Mate of the Lycan

#Chapter 1

The Lair of Cohen

"Open your eyes, Naomi! Come on, you have to wake up!" The weight on my eyelids felt unbearable, as though the world itself was pressing down on me. I groaned, my head throbbing with pain. It took all my strength to lift my heavy lids, revealing a scene of darkness and confusion. I could feel the bruises forming on my body, evidence of the brutal force that had brought me to this place.

Confusion clouded my thoughts as I struggled to form words. My tongue felt thick and sluggish, matching the heaviness in my eyes. Pain shot through my cheek, a reminder of the slap that had awakened me from my nightmare. Adrenaline surged through my veins, urging me to fight, to flee.

A girl stood beside me, her grip tight on my arms. She shook her head, a silent warning for me to stay still. Her voice was a hushed whisper, barely audible amidst the chaos. "We're in Cohen's Lair. We've been brought here as offerings. Don't make trouble, or they might kill you before you even get a chance to see him."

"Cohen?" I stammered, fear gripping my heart. The name sent shivers down my spine, a foreboding warning of the horrors that awaited me.

The girl nodded, her eyes wide with desperation. "I'm Joanna. My parents saved me to offer to him. I hope he chooses me. If I become his Luna, my family will be elevated to the Alpha House. It's a position of power and privilege. I'm the first Snow White our lineage has seen in generations."

A Snow White—a werewolf female with pure white fur. The epitome of strength, beauty, and desirability for wolves seeking a mate. I glanced down at the tattered wedding dress I wore, a far cry from the pristine image of Snow White. But it was all I had left, a symbol of the life I had been torn away from.

Suppressing the panic rising within me, I pushed down the voluminous skirt and shuffled to sit beside Joanna. Our wrists were bound with zip ties, our ankles secured with thick ropes. A glance along the row revealed that we were not alone. Women, like us, were trussed up, their fates intertwined as virgin sacrifices for the last Lycan.Anxiety coursed through my veins, heightening my senses as I pondered the impending doom that awaited me. The tales surrounding Alpha Cohen, the last Lycan and sole heir to the Alpha King Mason, were etched in my mind like scars. They dubbed him 'Cohen' due to his untamed nature, a ferocious beast within. Whispers carried the rumors that only the touch of a virgin wolf under the full moon could quell his inner demons. Every pack sent their virgins as sacrificial offerings, hoping to tame him. But he turned them all away, callously and violently. Some were driven mad by his rejection. What unspeakable horrors did he inflict upon them with just a mere denial?

In an attempt to divert my panic, I initiated a hushed conversation with Joanna. "Your parents sent you as tribute? Are you from Lone Wolf?" I inquired, desperately seeking solace in our exchange.

Her response was laced with pride for her pack. "Yes, I am. And what pack do you hail from? I haven't seen you before," she inquired, her question tinged with a hint of jealousy.

Suppressing a frown, I wondered why she would envy me. Did she not know the atrocities attributed to Cohen? Did she believe I had willingly offered myself? Did she think I stood a chance against the countless other virgin wolves who had come before me?

"I belong to the Fiery Cross Pack. My father, Alpha Henry, leads us. As a Tiger Lily, I don't often venture beyond our territory," I explained. My coat, reminiscent of the wild princess Tiger Lily who yearned for Peter Pan's affection, boasted a fusion of three distinct colors. My family had hoped for a better fate for me, but my initial transformation had shattered my father's heart.

Joanna seemed to relax slightly upon learning about my mixed coat. In her eyes, I was already less desirable.

As I tested the strength of the zip ties binding my wrists, a realization dawned upon me—I could only break free by shifting. Attempting to loosen the rope coiled around my ankles, my feeble fingers struggled to untie the knots. Helplessness consumed me, much like the other women lining the hallway leading to Cohen's lair.

Surprisingly, the imposing wooden door stood solid and unyielding. I had expected it to be in ruins, for I had heard that Cohen was kept chained within his chambers. He was rumored to unleash his wrath upon some of the virgins offered to him.He couldn't possibly unleash his violent tendencies behind such an exquisite door, could he? Joanna's plea for an explanation echoed in my ears, tugging at the frayed edges of my resolve. Reluctantly, I realized that recounting my capture to her might not be as detrimental as I had initially feared.

"I made a terrible mistake," I began, my voice laced with remorse. "I ventured into a bar alone, seeking solace in the numbing embrace of alcohol. In my confusion, a group of soldiers stumbled upon me. Their crude inquiries about my virtue were met with my naïve affirmation. Laughter erupted, mocking my innocence, and before I could retaliate, a blow struck me. Darkness descended, and when I regained consciousness, I found myself in this wretched place. You were the one who shook me awake, Joanna. That's the whole story."

A faint smile played at Joanna's lips as she probed further. "Except for the part about why you were donning a wedding dress in a desolate bar."

I shrugged, evading her gaze. The truth, too humiliating to confront amidst our dire circumstances, remained cloaked in silence. Some secrets were better left unsaid, even when survival was at stake.

Without warning, the door swung open, and a terrified she-wolf was thrust inside. Within seconds, she scampered back out, fleeing as if pursued by the hounds of Hell. The pattern repeated itself, each woman rejected or expelled within minutes. Tears, incoherent babbling, and desperate screams reverberated through the air, marking their futile attempts to appease Cohen's inscrutable desires.

As my turn approached, anxiety coursed through my veins, while Joanna exuded an unwavering confidence. I had expected her to fare better, but her entrance into the room was abruptly halted by a thunderous roar. She was unceremoniously flung out, landing in a crumpled heap at my feet. Her arm twisted at an unnatural angle as she struggled to regain her footing. I yearned to rush to her side, but before I could act, I was propelled through the door, thrust into the heart of Cohen's Lair.

A chill wind nipped at my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The room, shrouded in darkness, offered little visibility even to my heightened werewolf senses. The clinking of chains reached my ears, a reminder of Cohen's perpetual confinement, his uncontrollable rages tamed only by restraints. My trembling intensified, consuming me entirely.

"Hello?" I whispered hesitantly, unsure if engaging in conversation with him would hasten my expulsion or invite a more forceful ejection.

To my surprise, Cohen responded, his voice a velvety baritone that stirred a different kind of tremor within me. "Hello."

Taking cautious steps forward, I found myself ensnared in his powerful embrace, his formidable arms enveloping me with an intensity that both terrified and intrigued.The scent of the untamed forest mingled with sandalwood, filling my senses and rendering me powerless in Cohen's embrace. Instead of struggling against his hold, I surrendered to the intoxicating allure of his touch.

His large hands traversed my body with a possessive urgency, caressing my breasts through the fabric of my gown before gliding down to explore the contours of my waist and hips. Never had I been so acutely aware of my own form as I was in that moment, with Cohen unraveling my shape beneath the layers of my wedding dress. What would it feel like to have his hands on my bare skin?

A mixture of fear and desire surged through me, an unfamiliar blend of emotions that left me uncertain whether to scream or surrender myself completely to Cohen's advances. He effortlessly spun me around, causing my head to tilt to the side as his lips found the sensitive spot at the base of my neck, leaving a scorching imprint.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling with an inexplicable agreement. I couldn't fully comprehend the significance of what I was consenting to, but there was an undeniable pull, an unspoken connection that made this encounter with the enigmatic Cohen feel like the culmination of a lifetime.

Cohen's presence loomed behind me, a solid wall of masculine strength. Even through the barrier of my wedding dress, his searing heat seeped into my skin, while his breath danced across the shell of my ear, setting my senses ablaze. "Mate..." he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

If Cohen was the last of his kind, I feared that damnation itself would be preferable.

I had been sheltered, kept chaste and untouched by any male presence. But now, his scent enveloped me, as suffocating as his arms, and his lips scorched my pulsating pulse point at the base of my throat. My heart skipped a beat, while my body responded with a surge of heat that mirrored the primal desire coursing through the Lycan.

Never before had I felt such an intense heat, such vibrant vitality, such acute awareness of my own skin. His hands traced the contours of my dress once more, eliciting a moan as his warm palms cupped my breasts, causing the satin fabric to graze against my hardened nipples. 

I yearned for him to rip away my dress, to touch my bare flesh, to consume me wholly.

He pressed his body against mine, provoking another moan from deep within, even though the layers of my gown prevented me from fully experiencing the contact I craved. Never had I desired to touch a man with the same wild abandon as I did in that moment.

Desperation propelled me to reach behind me, my fingers curling into claws as I dug them into his hips, urging him closer. But in an abrupt motion, he pushed me away with a forceful shove, propelling me towards the door, leaving me stunned and disoriented.

#Chapter 2

Scars marred his body, reminders of the whips and chains that had sought to subdue the monster within him. Every full moon brought more torment, as the Alpha King demanded she-wolf virgins be offered to Cohen. His body craved their touch, their tender flesh and intimate connection, but his beast rejected their fear as unworthy of its attention.

The beast within Cohen was nameless, a primal force driven purely by instinct. It never desired to harm the she-wolves presented to him, but their tears, screams, and overwhelming fear were unbearable. They failed to grasp the honor it would be to feel his touch, to experience his passion. Until she walked into his life and uttered a simple greeting.

"Hello."

Her scent wafted towards him, a delicate blend of moonlight, rain, and an elusive flower he couldn't quite place. Gardenia, perhaps? Cohen had been confined for so long that he had lost touch with the outside world, including the fragrant wonders of a garden. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that she smelled irresistible, a temptation he couldn't ignore.

Mate.

The beast within him groaned, its voice echoing in his mind. Cohen knew he couldn't let her leave so soon. He had to have a taste of her, just a taste. It wouldn't hurt, would it?

Mate.

The struggle to restrain himself from her was overwhelming, causing Cohen to tremble with the effort. But then, the beast spoke again, its repetitive words breaking down his resistance.

Mate.

Running his hands over her body, Cohen marveled at how perfectly her curves fit within his grasp. Never before had his beast spoken in words. True, it was only one word repeated over and over again, but it was a breakthrough nonetheless. Any form of communication was preferable to the violent emotions the creature usually expressed.The searing pain radiated through my shoulder as it collided with the unyielding oak door. My body still tingled from Cohen's forceful touch, his hands exploring every inch of me with a primal hunger. But strangely, I didn't feel violated. Instead, I felt an intense heat, a heaviness that permeated my being, even as my own wolf stirred within me in response to the powerful Lycan male who had laid claim to me.

Why did he stop? The stories always said that the last Lycan needed to mate with a virgin she-wolf to tame his beast during the full moon. It was supposed to be a mutually beneficial exchange, with him gaining control and her gaining power. But no one ever warned me about the pain of being rejected by a mate. They never told me how it would feel for a male to discard me instead of mating with me.

In that moment, as Cohen roared at me once again, I realized I craved his desire, his possession. I wanted him to want me, to take me, to claim me as his own. But his animalistic sound, devoid of any words, sent a shiver down my spine. I fumbled for the doorknob, relief flooding over me as it turned and allowed me to escape into the hallway, where I was met with bewildered stares.

"I..." My voice trailed off, lost for words. What was I supposed to say in this situation? Should I apologize for not satisfying the Lycan? Should I be angry that he hadn't chosen me? Should I cry?

Tears threatened to spill over, but I pushed them back, not ready to confront the depth of my emotions. Thankfully, a strikingly handsome wolf stepped forward, offering a lifeline of introductions.Extending his hand towards me, a warm smile graced his lips as he introduced himself, "I'm Spencer, soon to be Cohen's Beta when he ascends the throne as the Alpha King. Care to share what transpired between the two of you in there?"

His genuine curiosity radiated through his words, piquing my interest. The mere thought of Cohen, tamed enough to rule over wolves as the Alpha King, felt surreal. I found it hard to believe such a day would ever come.

I let out a hollow laugh, trying to mask the pain that lingered within me. "Nothing much. He touched me, called me his 'mate,' and then threw me out like everyone else." My nonchalant shrug failed to conceal the shattered pieces of my heart, which felt more bruised than my body.

Spencer's eyes scanned me from head to toe, taking in my disheveled hair and the worn-out state of my shoes. I didn't dare dwell on how I must have appeared to him, standing before him in a rumpled wedding dress, evidence of tears, sweat, and being dragged around all night. 

But whatever Spencer saw in me, it seemed to appeal to him. With a gentle tug, he untied the rope binding my ankles. Rising to his feet, he flashed a reassuring smile before motioning for me to follow. "Let's take a walk. Just keep up."

Lifting my skirt slightly to avoid tripping, I hurriedly followed him through a labyrinth of corridors and staircases. The maze-like layout was so intricate that I knew I would never find my way out if I tried. 

Eventually, we arrived at another imposing wooden door, even grander than the one guarding the previous Lycan's room. Spencer held it open, gesturing for me to enter. "Please step inside. The King is ready to see you now."

The King? The Alpha King?

I stood at the threshold, utterly stunned into silence. Spencer's firm grip on my elbow propelled me forward until I found myself standing in front of an expansive desk, where the Alpha King patiently awaited my arrival. 

I recognized him instantly from his public appearances. His status as our King was renowned, even among humans. And here I was, standing before him, looking like a survivor of some unimaginable disaster.

I waited, my voice silenced by years of conditioning. My family had taught me to be seen and heard only when summoned. I knew my place.

"My son referred to you as his mate," the King finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence."Is this true?" I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I faced the King. "Yes, your majesty. He said 'mate' and he touched me, then he made me leave." 

"Touched you? Touched you how? Did he want to have sex with you or was he pushing you away?" The King's voice was filled with concern, his eyes searching mine for answers.

I didn't know how to answer. Cohen had wanted me, that much was clear from the passionate way he had explored my body with his hands. But then he had pushed me away, his strength sending a jolt of pain through my shoulder. It felt like a giant bruise, a physical reminder of his rejection. 

"Both," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "He was passionate and then he pushed me away. Told me to 'get out.' He didn't hurt me."

The King's gaze hardened, his brows furrowing in thought. "That's good. My son needs his mate. His heat cycle starts every full moon and continues to get worse the longer he goes without a partner. You have twelve hours before this full moon ends. You will mate with my son, give him your virginity, and you will live to become his Luna."

I felt my world spin, the weight of the task ahead crashing down on me. Twelve hours to convince the Lycan to have sex with me? It seemed impossible. I didn't even know how to seduce any man, let alone a wild creature like Cohen.

"I don't know if I will be able to do... that," I admitted, my voice trembling. "What happens if I can't?" I added, my eyes pleading with the King for an alternative.

"You'll die," the King said matter-of-factly, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. "I'll kill you."

I stared at the King in disbelief, my mind struggling to comprehend his words. How could he be so callous? How could he condemn me to death if I failed?

"It's up to you, little wolf," the King said with a coldness that sent shivers down my spine. "Go be a good mate to my son."

As Spencer, the King's trusted advisor, walked me back to Alpha Cohen's room, the weight of the impending encounter pressed heavily on my shoulders. The ornate door loomed before us, a barrier between the life I had known and the uncertain future that awaited me.

As soon as we reached the Lycan's room, I was thrust back into the darkness. The growl that escaped Cohen's lips was a warning, causing me to sink down to the ground right outside his door. Conversation was impossible amidst the growls, the rattling chains, and the palpable tension in the room.

Overwhelmed by it all, I found myself succumbing to tears, my body shaking with sobs. My first mate had rejected me on our wedding day, choosing my sister over me. And now, my second chance mate was a monster. What kind of curse was I under? 

But amidst the darkness and despair, a flicker of determination ignited within me. I refused to let fate dictate my destiny. I would fight for my own happiness, even if it meant facing the monstrous Lycan who held my fate in his hands.

#Chapter 3

Silence enveloped the room, suffocating any attempt at conversation. Alpha Cohen, an imposing figure, hadn't uttered a single word since shoving me back into this confined space. In the pitch-black darkness, I couldn't discern if his gaze was fixed on me or somewhere beyond.

My wolf, Joy, urged me to test the waters and appeal to Cohen's dormant humanity. Surely, even Lycans retained some semblance of their human side. But every time I mustered the courage to speak, he would respond with nothing more than a menacing snarl.

Although my tears were artificially induced, the fear and sadness behind them were genuine. I concentrated on exuding every ounce of despair within me, hoping to elicit some empathy from the Alpha. In this cramped room, we were both prisoners, confined by our own demons.

"I was rejected, you know?" I confessed, laying bare the truth. Perhaps honesty would earn me a modicum of favor with him. I had nothing else to offer, for the mere thought of bridging the distance between us sent shivers down my spine, fueled by his intimidating growls.

Fingering the fabric of my skirt, I pressed on, my voice trembling. "My sister stole my mate. On my wedding day. That's how I ended up here. My mate discarded me because my sister made a more suitable match. I drowned my sorrows in a bar, and wolves from your pack, or a pack loyal to yours, took advantage of my vulnerability."

Every word I spoke to Alpha Cohen was an unadorned truth, and as my feigned tears transformed into genuine streams cascading down my cheeks, I questioned how my life had spiraled so rapidly out of control.

"Today was supposed to be my wedding day," I whispered, the confession fractured and raw. It required no pretense. Adam, my fiancé, had always been too good for me, never hesitating to remind me of my inferiority. His family, a formidable Alpha lineage, embodied the epitome of purity, with their males boasting jet-black coats and their females adorned in pristine white. Marrying into their esteemed bloodline was a leap beyond my station as a mixed coat, someone whose claim to an Alpha father was doubted by many."Why did your sister find a better match? Are you two not from the same parents?" 

Startled by the unexpected line of questioning, I gasped, lifting my head from my hands and straining my eyes to pierce through the darkness that enveloped the room. 

"No," I replied, hoping to capture Alpha Cohen's attention for just a little longer with my story. "We share the same mother and father. I am... younger by a year. My older sister Naomi is more stunning. She's like Snow White herself, with the purest white coat any she-wolf could ever possess. I, on the other hand, am a Tiger Lily, my coat a blend of three different colors." 

"So, your mate had the audacity to reject you in favor of a she-wolf with a pristine coat?" 

The way Alpha Cohen put it made the whole notion seem ludicrous. 

Until that moment, I had never truly considered the significance placed on coat colors from his perspective. Was it truly shallow to desire a mate who possessed more purity? 

In the world of werewolves, a coat not only represented beauty but also power. A she-wolf with an immaculate white coat was deemed as strong as they come, while the addition of more colors, creating a mixed pattern, signified weaker magic, diluted and less reliable. 

My sister could shift in mere seconds, while it took me over a minute, sometimes even longer, to assume my wolf form. 

In a battle, my sister could come to her mate's aid in the blink of an eye, while I would require precious minutes. 

Minutes in a werewolf altercation meant the difference between life and death. 

"You're crying again. Did you truly love your mate?" 

"He was my fated mate," I responded, bewildered by his inquiry. "Of course, I loved him." 

"No, I mean did you love him as an individual or simply because his wolf was destined to be yours? There's a distinction... What is your name?" 

"Paige," I confessed, unsure why I was still fabricating the truth about being my sister. 

"Paige. What was it that you loved about him, Paige?" 

It dawned on me that a part of me clung to the hope that this entire encounter would soon come to an end, and I would be permitted to return home. If Alpha Cohen remained ignorant of my true identity, he wouldn't be able to track me down once I left. And if I managed to persuade him to mate with me, I could still escape afterwards.After my night with Cohen, the thought of being able to leave provided me with some comfort. I felt compelled to respond to him with absolute honesty, knowing that he deserved nothing less.

"The way his wolf loved mine was truly something remarkable," I began, my voice trembling slightly. "But my family... they never wanted me. I have always been an embarrassment to them, a Tiger Lily staining our House's reputation. My mother, in particular, despises the mere sight of me. She forces me to dress as a maid whenever guests are around, so they believe I am merely a servant rather than her own flesh and blood. And my father, well, he allows it all to happen because he too is ashamed."

My words spilled out, the pain of a lifetime of rejection flowing through them. Cohen listened intently, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion.

"I wanted so desperately to make my family proud," I continued, my voice quivering. "But I don't think I ever truly knew him enough to love him. He was just as disappointed to be my mate as my family is to have me as their daughter."

Cohen's response came without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute. "Anyone who is disappointed in you is a fool."

His words washed over me like a soothing balm, providing a momentary respite from the weight of my insecurities. I appreciated his sentiment, even though I understood that his perspective as a Lycan might not align with my own.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice soft. "Your kindness means more to me than you could ever know. You don't have to say these things, but I am aware of who I am and what I bring to the table. I understand that you could have your pick of mates, that you might even wish for someone different. But I am grateful that our paths crossed. A second chance mate is an unimaginable stroke of luck. I never thought I would be so fortunate."

In the world of wolves, finding a second chance mate was akin to being struck by lightning twice. Most wolves spent years searching for their fated mate, either eventually stumbling upon them or resigning themselves to a life without one.

Cohen's voice took on a peculiar tone, a mix of emotions that I couldn't quite decipher. It was as if he were angry, confused, and disappointed all at once, despite his earlier dismissal of such feelings towards me.

"Forgive me for my bluntness," he said, his words laced with a hint of curiosity. "But how did he reject you? Your first mate. How did he manage to do so before the wedding?"

A wave of shame washed over me, causing me to lower my head in response. I focused on taking slow, deliberate breaths through my mouth, trying to fend off the encroaching panic that threatened to consume me.Draped in the ethereal fabric of my wedding gown, I stood there, a vision of shattered dreams and unrequited love. How could he not comprehend that Adam had callously rejected me, right there at the altar? The weight of his indifference crushed my spirit, leaving me gasping for breath amidst a sea of emotions.

Perhaps, in his mind, he couldn't fathom the depths of cruelty that a wolf could possess, especially towards their intended mate. The sheer audacity to humiliate me in front of our combined packs on what was meant to be the pinnacle of happiness, our wedding day. My tears flowed relentlessly, like raindrops cascading from swollen clouds, each one carrying the weight of my sorrow.

"He wasn't there," I managed to utter through my quivering voice.

"What? Your mate didn't show up? He abandoned you?" Her disbelief mirrored my own.

Shaking my head, I continued, "He wasn't waiting for me at the end of the aisle. We rehearsed the entire day, ensuring every step was perfect. I knew when it was my turn to walk. Everything was flawless, everyone looked so beautiful. But he was absent. Completely absent when it was time for me to take that pivotal stride."

I lifted a trembling hand to wipe away the tears that threatened to ruin my carefully applied makeup.

"I waited, hoping for some semblance of explanation. And then, he appeared with my sister. They entered through a side door. As I began my solemn walk, Adam halted the priest, bringing everything to a standstill. He took my sister's hand, severing our mate bond with a formal rejection. In that very moment, he asked her to step into my place as his wife, and she obliged. He married my sister after rejecting me."

My tears overwhelmed me, and I surrendered to the depths of despair, burying my face in my hands as sobs wracked my body. Lost in my misery, I felt the warmth of large hands gently lift my face, and then Cohen's lips met mine.

I surrendered to the kiss with a desperate hunger, unwilling to examine the depths of my longing too closely. Our bodies pressed together, and I parted my lips, inviting his tongue into the intimate dance. Inexperienced as I was with such passion, I tried to mimic his movements, allowing myself to be consumed by the moment.

As my arms wound around his neck, I trailed a hand down his back, only to recoil when he emitted a feral growl upon my touch grazing a wet, raised scar on his shoulder.

"You're bleeding!" I exclaimed, my concern overriding my own heartache.

#Chapter 4

The sight of blood filled my nostrils, engulfing me in a rush of hot copper that churned my stomach and left me feeling dizzy and disoriented. It was as if I could feel Cohen's pain, even though we weren't bonded. 

"It's nothing," Cohen dismissed, throwing my own words back at me. "My father fears the beast will consume me completely, so he tames it with pain. The creature responds best to suffering. He finds the whip to be effective."

"But it matters to me," I retorted, my lips numb as I struggled to my feet and shook out my skirt to regain my balance. If Cohen used pain to control his Lycan, then surely there would be first aid supplies in his rooms. I couldn't fathom the Alpha King leaving his own son without any means to treat his wounds. But then again, I couldn't fathom a refined Alpha King resorting to whipping his own heir either. What did I really know?

I stumbled around the room, my hands searching until they found a dresser. However, the drawers held only clothes. I hadn't had a chance to examine the room properly when I was forcefully shoved inside from the hallway. The lights had been off ever since I arrived.

"What are you looking for?" Cohen asked, his tone laced with more amusement than I cared for.

"Bandages. Antibiotic ointment. You must have a first aid kit, right? Who would inflict regular beatings without providing treatment for the injuries?" My judgmental tone betrayed my emotions, but I couldn't help it. If the Alpha King could harm his own son, what would he do to me? Was a whip in my future too? How was I supposed to seduce a man who was bleeding everywhere?

"There's a box in the bathroom, under the sink. It's truly nothing. Worrying about it is a waste of time." Cohen's nonchalant response did little to alleviate my concerns.The Alpha Prince, regal and powerful, deserved nothing less than an opulent en suite bathroom. It was a foolish oversight on my part not to have considered the possibility of another door in his room. But there was no time for self-reproach. My focus shifted to his injuries, determined to tend to them despite his protests.

Tracing my hands along the furniture, I finally stumbled upon a concealed door. With a sense of purpose, I swung it open, revealing a hidden sanctuary. Inside, I located the First Aid Kit and beckoned the formidable male to join me. It was an opportunity to heal his wounds, but also an opportunity to ignite a spark between us.

I lacked experience in the realm of nursing, as my family had never engaged in physical altercations. We were a peaceful lineage, far removed from the world of violence. Yet here I was, faced with the sight of blood trickling down my mate's back, defying my attempts to staunch it. The notion of covering a wound that still bled seemed futile.

"What are you doing?" the Lycan growled, his annoyance palpable.

Startled, I fumbled and dropped the cloth onto the floor, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I had jumped away from him in alarm, all because of a simple question. Retrieving the cloth, I winced at the sight of blood staining the pristine floor.

"I'm not particularly skilled in nursing," I admitted sheepishly. "You're still bleeding, and I can't seem to make it stop. How do you usually treat your injuries?"

Alpha King Mason likely had a team of doctors or perhaps even a gifted healer at his disposal, capable of closing any wound with a flick of their wrist. The idea of having to venture into the hallway to seek assistance weighed heavily on my mind.My disheveled appearance would likely lead them to believe that I was the one in need of assistance, rather than Cohen. A wave of shame washed over me as I realized that I was still acutely aware of the Lycan's scent - a potent blend of masculinity that stirred my own inner wolf - while he seemed unaffected by my presence. Wasn't my mate supposed to desire me with the same intensity that I desired him? Was I destined to be forever unwanted by any mate?

"You seem lost in unpleasant thoughts. Care to share?" Cohen's voice broke through my internal turmoil.

"Just wondering why you don't want me. But it doesn't matter now. You're bleeding and I don't know how to stop it," I replied, my voice laced with a mixture of frustration and concern.

Cohen let out a weary sigh before pivoting on the edge of the tub. His massive hands effortlessly controlled the shower knobs, releasing a gentle cascade of warm water. Then, to my surprise, he nudged my shoulder, silently urging me to turn around so he could tend to my injury.

Fear gripped me, knowing that I was exposing my vulnerability to the last remaining Lycan. Yet, all he did was unlace my dress, allowing it to fall to the ground in a pool of fabric, leaving me standing in nothing but my slip.

"Join me in here. The water will help stop the bleeding," Cohen instructed, his voice both commanding and gentle.

I didn't have a chance to protest or dwell on the fact that he was still fully clothed in jeans while I stood there in barely more than my underwear. Cohen effortlessly lifted me off the ground, as if I weighed no more than a feather. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around his neck, while my legs wound themselves around his waist.

Cohen adjusted our position until the warm water cascaded down upon us, its comforting touch soothing our senses.

"Cohen!" I couldn't help but laugh, feeling utterly ridiculous as he held me under the water, drenching my hair and turning my slip nearly transparent, barely concealing my ample breasts, flat stomach, and curvaceous hips.

In that moment, cradled in his arms, I had never felt more feminine or cherished."Paige," he whispered, his gaze locked on my lips. Emboldened by his desire, I took the initiative and initiated my seductive plan.

With a passion that surpassed my wildest dreams, I kissed him. There was no hesitation or fear in my touch. My hands found solace in his long hair, cascading around his shoulders, as I pressed my silk-covered core against him, my thighs tightly wrapped around his waist.

"Paige," he groaned, his voice filled with longing.

Under the cascading water of the shower, he shielded me, blocking its touch. Cohen's face nuzzled against my breasts, causing my nipples to harden, straining against the fabric of my slip. He eagerly took one into his mouth, slip and all, suckling greedily before pulling the strap down.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice feverishly intense. "Yes, yes, yes."

The straps of my slip slid off my shoulders as I shook my upper body, unveiling my breasts to his hungry gaze. It was said that men were captivated by the sight of a naked woman, and I intended to use that to my advantage. But this was different; I had never wanted someone to see me so intimately. I was untouched, except for this wild Lycan who seemed to crave me.

His mouth on my breast sent shivers coursing through me, urging me to seek more. I yearned for his touch on my wet core, aching for his soothing presence. Though uncertain of my seduction skills, I was succeeding in seducing myself.

Just as I thought he would ravish me against the shower wall, he pulled back. The water continued to cascade over him, plastering his long hair against his head and tracing rivulets down his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and chiseled abdomen.

There could not have been a more perfect embodiment of masculinity. And he was mine. My second chance mate. My one and only."What?" I gasped, my senses swimming in a heady mix of desire and the undeniable pull of our mating bond.

"We can't," Cohen replied, his voice heavy with regret.

"Can't?" I blinked at him, my confusion growing. I felt foolish trying to comprehend why my mate would reject me, yet again. "Why can't we? We're mates. I can sense your desire for me."

Cohen's large hand gently cupped my face, his eyes searching mine as he spoke. "If we make love, I'll lose my primal nature. I'll become human. Do you understand? I can't bear the thought of losing who I am."

His words pierced through me, and tears welled up in my eyes. Grateful for the disguise provided by the shower, I struggled to extricate myself from his embrace.

My mate, who denied himself the pleasure of being with me to preserve his true self.

If it were any other reason, I would have fought against it. But causing harm to my mate? Betraying him? I couldn't bear the thought.

Already burdened with enough self-doubt, I couldn't fathom adding another layer of pain. Death seemed preferable to becoming a betrayer or a twice-rejected mate.

I shed my soaked slip, hastily wrapping a towel around my trembling body. Leaving Cohen behind to tend to his own needs, I retreated into the bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I focused on my breathing, only to realize that the longer I waited for Cohen to rejoin me, the more intense the heat within me became.

It was nearing midnight, the full moon casting its ethereal glow upon us. The knowledge that I had mere hours to live weighed heavily on me. The Alpha King would surely execute me for my failure to seduce the Lycan prince.

Just then, Cohen emerged from the bathroom, a towel loosely draped around his waist. The heat emanating from him enveloped me, engulfing me like a volcano's fiery breath.

And in that moment, I understood. I wasn't simply hot; I was in the throes of my primal heat, yearning for my Lycan mate.

#Chapter 5

"Cohen...no," I gasped, my voice strained with urgency, my head falling back in surrender to the waves of lust crashing over me. "I'm going into heat. You should retreat to the bathroom. Close the door. Let the water run. It will mask my scent. I don't want to taint you."

The truth was, I would ruin him. If my mate lost his Lycan abilities, he would be reduced to a mere mortal, vulnerable and fragile. The thought of my strong, majestic mate stripped of his powers and transformed into a human was unbearable.

Cohen would forfeit his birthright, his place within the wolfen society, and sever his connection with his inner beast—or was it his Lycan? He referred to it as his "beast." Did that mean his inner voice spoke to him as a mythical monster?

Gazing at him across the dimly lit bedroom, my heat accentuated every aspect of his being—his stature, his strength, his scent—until I released the towel that clung to my damp body. My fingers were too numb to maintain its precarious hold.

Unabashed, I reclined on the bed, one hand cupping my breast while the other ventured between my thighs, seeking the moist folds of my desire.

"Cohen..."

I craved him more than the very breath that sustained me. Every fiber of my being burned with an insatiable longing for him. His arousal swelled before my eyes, his shaft rising, almost grazing his abdomen under the weight of his fervent response. Cohen discarded the towel, crossing the room in a blur to join me on the bed.

His lips descended upon mine, a ravenous feast of desire as we engaged in a fervent kiss. Our tongues battled for dominance, as if our mouths were a battleground to be conquered.

Unashamed, I spread my legs wide, gripping Cohen's hair at the nape of his neck, anchoring his face to mine so that our lips remained locked even as I pressed against every part of him within my reach."No," I moaned, desperately trying to escape the intoxicating kisses that threatened to consume me. Deep within my mind, my wolf howled in protest. "I can't do this! I can't be the reason you lose your wolf. Just go... please, Cohen."

His chains rattled as he climbed onto the bed, his presence overwhelming. I clenched my hands in his hair, fighting the urge to reach for the shackles that bound him. I knew no amount of pulling would set him free.

"Never. I will never leave you," Cohen declared, his words filled with unwavering determination.

As if sensing my need for air, Cohen paused the passionate exchange of kisses. My mind had been consumed by the intensity of his touch, forgetting the simple act of breathing. But with him, my mate, my lover, I felt complete. Oxygen was unnecessary when I had him.

His touch offered solace from the searing heat coursing through my veins, scorching me from within. It was as if I was melting, my desire dripping like hot honey from my core.

"Please! Cohen, please!" I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. This time, frustration fueled my anguish, not humiliation or loss.

I craved my mate with every fiber of my being. I yearned for him to fill me completely, to ravish me with an intensity only he possessed. Our bodies were meant to be intertwined, a perfect fit despite our differences in size.

Cohen teased me, rubbing the swollen head of his arousal against my slick entrance. He aligned himself with my aching emptiness and with one powerful thrust, he claimed me as his own. The force of his penetration elicited a scream as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my orgasm consuming me whole.

Beneath his weight, I trembled uncontrollably. His intrusion was a welcome invader, stretching me to my limits. I craved his movements, the rhythm of his body moving in and out, igniting a hunger within me that knew no bounds.

My desire, fueled by my heat, overwhelmed any remnants of pain from losing my virginity. In this moment, I was consumed by lust, my body young and resilient.I possessed the body of an Alpha she-wolf, a vessel crafted to bring pleasure to my mate. Every movement, every touch, was intended to tantalize and satisfy him completely. I was his, completely and unquestionably.

"Oh, Cohen," I moaned, my voice laced with desire. "Yes, yes. Take me. I am yours, your mate. I exist solely for you. I want you, every part of you. You are mine, mine, mine—"

Cohen silenced my words with a passionate kiss, his fervor mirroring the intensity of our connection. He thrust into me relentlessly, igniting waves of pleasure that washed over my entire being. Time became irrelevant as my body convulsed with pleasure, my focus solely on Cohen. His scent, his touch, his presence consumed me entirely, merging with my body, mind, and soul.

In our final union, I lay beneath Cohen, my limbs trembling from the aftershocks of ecstasy, my inner walls still pulsating around his powerful length. Words eluded me; I had used them all up. The sheer magnitude of satisfaction I had experienced was beyond comprehension.

As the moon began to wane, replaced by the dawning sun, panic gripped me. I searched Cohen's face desperately, seeking any sign of change. Would his beast subside? Would it hurt? Could we prevent it?

Cohen studied my features, his gaze searching for any trace of transformation. Exhausted, I couldn't offer him comforting words, so I simply gazed back, hoping he could sense my profound contentment through our bond.

His hand caressed the back of my neck, then shifted to the chain adorning my throat, the weight of two rings that held immeasurable significance. Briefly pausing, Cohen's eyes flickered irritably towards his own restraints before he exerted enough force to break free from the shackles that had bound him for far too long.

Anxiety coursed through me once more as his dark eyes returned to mine, scanning my face. He withdrew from my body, just as he had freed himself from his chains. Then, with a sudden, violent motion, he tore the necklace from my neck, causing me to cry out in pain.

Sunlight flooded the room, blinding me momentarily until I could no longer keep my eyes shut.I blinked in astonishment at the thin ray of sunlight that penetrated Cohen's Lair. I had always assumed it was an artificially lit space, devoid of any windows. But now, standing here, I realized how foolish that notion was. The Alpha King wouldn't confine his own son to a windowless dungeon, would he? And surely, he wouldn't resort to whipping him to tame his wild nature. That couldn't be true, could it?

Yet, the scent of copper lingered in the air, a reminder of the blood that had stained Cohen's back the night before. Alpha King Mason had threatened me with death if I didn't succeed in seducing his son within twelve hours. And against all odds, I had done it. I had seduced Cohen, The Last Lycan, until he fell into a deep slumber, unresponsive even when I shook him violently.

But now, as I stood by his side, the question gnawed at me. Was he powerless? Had I extinguished his beast? Was that why he wouldn't wake up?

Wrapping a discarded towel around my naked body, I cautiously stepped out into the hallway. No one was there. No tributes, no Spencer, no servants. It was as if the entire world had vanished, leaving only me and Cohen, lying on the floor with his broken chains. The door stood unlocked and unguarded. Someone must know something. They must be aware that he was no longer a Lycan. And they knew it was my doing.

Guilt washed over me, causing my body to tremble uncontrollably. It wasn't the cold that made my teeth chatter; it was the weight of responsibility. I was the reason Cohen remained unconscious. Was I also the reason he might never wake up? Would he die because of me?

The Moon Goddess had bestowed upon me a second chance mate, only for me to betray him and lead him to his demise. My wolf, Joy, howled inside my mind, consumed by anger and fear at the thought of losing our mate.

"I don't know what to do!" I pleaded with Joy, hoping for some guidance. "Stop tormenting me! It's not helping either of us."

Joy didn't respond in words, but in emotions. We had always communicated this way, relying on our bond more than anything else. And now, in this moment of despair, she offered a glimmer of hope.

"We could leave now," she suggested, her voice echoing in my mind.

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