Chapter 269: Chapter 269 Marked
CONTENT WARNING: Half of the Chapter contains scenes of sexual assault and violence that may be triggering for some readers. Please proceed with caution.
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Her eyes widened with dread, as Lucas’s fangs sank into her neck, rupturing the delicate skin of her neck.
Allison’s body jolted, her back arching against the bed as hot pain tore through her veins. Her cry pierced the air, her hazel eyes turned to sharp gold, as if he had reached not just her flesh but her soul. Every nerve screamed in protest, her hands clawing the sheets until her knuckles turned white.
Lucas groaned deeply against her skin, his thrusting didn’t falter a bit, it only became faster and harder, his breath hot, his chest vibrating with savage delight.
He tightened his grip on her hip, holding her still as he dragged his fangs deeper, sealing the bond between them. Her blood filled his mouth, warm and intoxicating, and his growl rumbled low in triumph.
Allison’s eyes swam with tears. She felt the bond latch onto her like hot chains twisting around her heart, binding her to the very man who had destroyed her.
Her wolf whimpered faintly inside her, weak, powerless, and unable to rise but she was present to seal the bond. She wanted to scream, to thrash, to rip him away with her bare teeth... but all she could do was endure the fire spreading beneath her skin.
The mark throbbed with every heartbeat, burning like a brand. Her body trembled under the weight of it, her stomach churning with humiliation.
"Ahhh." She screamed, and he growled as he cum inside her, shooting his hot semen inside her. Their body jerked and his fangs clamped deeper releasing its venom inside her, the pleasure and the sensation heightened... their bodies slumped as they came back to earth.
Lucas groaned as he pulled back slowly, his mouth stained with her blood, his golden eyes blazing with satisfaction. He studied the fresh mark, running his tongue over the wounds, causing her to shiver from each lick.
A cruel smile stretched across his lips. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice dark and rich. "Now you’re mine."
Her lips quivered, but she forced them into the faintest ghost of a smile, though her eyes betrayed her. "If this is what you call victory..." she whispered, her voice hoarse, "then you’ve won."
Lucas’s chest rumbled with another pleased growl. He brushed his thumb over the swollen mark on her neck, possessive, almost reverent. "Not just victory," he corrected, his tone dripping with pride. "This is conquest. You, me, and the son we’ll bring into this world... we’ll rule more than a pack. We’ll rule the future."
Allison turned her face to the side, her nails still buried in the shredded sheets. Her chest rose and fell with shaky breaths, each one tasting of bitterness and defeat.
Lucas lingered above her for a breath longer, savoring the sight of her torn expression... the blood staining her neck, the tears clinging to her lashes, and the way her body shuddered beneath him.
Finally, he pushed himself up, pulling free from her trembling body. Allison’s chest heaved with shallow breaths. Her legs curled slightly inward, a vain attempt to shield herself, though she knew it was pointless.
Lucas stood tall, his bare skin glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing as he raked a hand through his damp hair. He didn’t bother covering himself, and with a satisfied exhale, he snatched a cigar from the table at the far end of the room.
The sharp scent of smoke soon filled the chamber as he lit it, dragging deeply before letting the cloud drift lazily from his lips. His eyes glowed faintly gold in the candlelight, his expression smug, carved in dark triumph. He glanced at Allison only once more, lying crumpled on the bed like a discarded treasure. His lips curved into something between a sneer and a smile.
"Rest, Luna," he said coldly.
Without another word, he turned on his heel, the smoke trailing after him as he strode from the room. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Allison in the suffocating silence of her shame.
...
The courtroom was dimly lit, the torches flickering against the high stone walls. Lucas’s heavy footsteps echoed as he entered, the air thick with the mingling scents of smoke and sweat. His bare chest rose and fell with steady breaths as he headed to the center of the room, every step exuding authority.
He leaned against the arm of his throne rather than sitting, cigar burning between his fingers. His head tilted back as he released another stream of smoke, filling the chamber with a bitter haze.
Moments later, the heavy doors creaked open. A man stepped inside, bowing his head immediately in respect. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair tied at the nape of his neck... a newly appointed Beta who had clawed his way up when the old one fell. His sharp eyes carried ambition, though his posture betrayed absolute submission before his Alpha.
"My lord," the Beta said, his voice firm but deferential. "The rogues have gathered. They’re restless, hungry... they await your command."
Lucas’s lips twitched into a smirk. He tapped the ash of his cigar onto the marble floor, his eyes narrowing with a predator’s gleam.
"Good," he drawled, his voice rich and taunting. "Let them be restless, hunger makes beasts more vicious... they will have their feast."
The Beta straightened, awaiting further orders. "Shall I prepare in advance?"
Lucas finally lowered himself onto his throne, sprawling back with his cigar balanced between his fingers. His gaze sharpened, cold and calculating.
"Yes," he said, breathing out smoke from his nose. "Send word to every pack, the Bloodshade pack falls with the rising sun, anyone who offers them help shares the same fate with them."
His voice rang through the chamber like a death sentence, final and absolute.
The Beta bowed deeply. "It will be done."
As the man hurried off, Lucas leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes burned with the image of fire and blood, of Damon’s broken pack reduced to ash. The corner of his lips curled again, cruel and satisfied.
"This is only the beginning," he muttered to himself, his voice low and dangerous. "By the time I’m done, all the realms will kneel."
He crushed the cigar against the stone armrest, leaving a blackened scar. The smoke swirled around him, the scent of conquest heavy in the air.