In the dim room shared with other omega members, a sigh escapes me. When I notice the door slightly open, I feel him coming without even looking, a familiar sensation sending shivers down my spine.
His footsteps echo as he nears. When he takes my hand, I flinch but quickly compose myself, not wanting to show how he affects me.
He presses my back against the wall and holds my hands up. I avoid looking at his face, feeling trapped, as he presses against me.
In the intense and uncomfortable moment, I can sense his erection. I try to endure it without letting him see how much it affects me.
This has become his regular practice—he asserts control, and he can take me whenever he wants.
"Show me your utmost submission because you rely on my protection. You're mine for a reason."
I nod, awaiting his next move.
Forcefully, his lips meet mine, and I reluctantly part my lips as he kisses me fiercely.
He explores further, squeezing my breast. I shiver, and he raises an eyebrow, satisfied.
"So many things I want to do to you, but not today; saving the best for tomorrow when I'll mark you," he whispers.
Fear grips me, and I gulp, nodding my head in acknowledgment.
"You must look presentable tomorrow," he says, pointing to a dress bag on the bed. I hadn't noticed he dropped it on the bed.
I stay silent, keeping my eyes on the dress bag. The looming mating ceremony fills me with dread; he knows how much I hate being around him.
He approached me, noticing something wasn't right. Lifting my face with a gentle touch, he brought his lips close to where my mate would mark me.
Lost in my thoughts, his voice pulls me back. "You seem nervous," he observes, looking straight into my eyes while I avoid his gaze. "I'll forgive you for being nervous."
After a moment, he lets go and heads for the door. "Rest well, my lady," he says with a mocking tone before leaving.
I glare at the door and angrily throw the dress bag against it. My heart races, and I shake my head at my fate.
I despise him—my unwilling Alpha, my unwanted mate. I can't stand him—I'm not his mate. Why does he insist on making me?
To be marked and mated to Tristan only means one thing: I am bound to him for life, and I won't let that happen.
"Be grateful," my wolf, Sasha, finally speaks up. She had been silent until now. "He saved you from an attack and bought you for a reason."
"Shut up, Sasha! I won't find excuses for this cold-hearted Alpha. I'm going to be bound to him for life."
Her broad smile fades as she remarks, "Can't someone joke with you anymore?”
I know the expectation is for me to be thrilled about being marked by Alpha Tristan of the Croftwood pack.
However, I can't accept the happiness others want for me. If I'm to be mated to this man, it means living a life as a prisoner, a pawn for pleasure.
I pace back and forth, wrestling with thoughts of what to do. The weight of the situation drains me, and I feel exhausted.
A sudden push from the door brings me back to reality. A sense of relief washes over me as I realize it's Cara, one of the omegas. Her presence only means one thing: a call to duty.
Cara and I share a close bond, considering each other friends. We try to keep our friendship subtle to avoid raising any eyebrows from our superiors.
"Lyra, let's hurry before that wicked witch comes looking for us," Cara says. I agree, hastily standing up and following her to the kitchen.