RONAN

I think the moment Hazel agreed to my insane plan, I signed my death certificate, and my bedroom became a coffin. Sleeping beside her will undoubtedly kill me.

I owe this woman nothing. There's no duty that compels me to save her from the scrutiny of the estate or my banishment, but I still bend myself backward for her. This attraction that sparked between us is more powerful than my will. I can't let her go.

She remains seated on the bed with her thighs pressed tightly together and her hands clasped. Her head is lowered and her shoulders are slightly hunched as if she's trying to make herself smaller. Realizing that she's in a cave with a wolf.

Tension fills the room, making it heavy, silent, stiff and awkward. I feel uneasy—a rare emotion for me, because I'm used to having control. But when Hazel is involved, I can't even control my cock. It's erect in my pants, aware of the sexual tension in the room. I remember the softness of Hazel's lips when I took them. Her thin, warm body pressed against mine when I captured her in my arms. The hitch of her breath as I growled disgusting, vile suggestions.

And now I'm taking her into the room where I've dreamt about her. To the bed where I beat my cock to the memory of her.

"Stay here if you want to see your mother," I grit, keeping my body turned to hide my erection. "I will bring her and have your belongings sent to my bedroom."

"My roommate, Gwen, had nothing to do with this. Please don't let her get punished," she pleads.

I walk out without saying another word. Irritated by her selflessness. Why can't she be selfish? Why not make it easier for me to abandon my attraction?

I walk down the halls to meet with Janice to organize the changes. She keeps her composure, but I know that she's as shocked as the rest of the estate by the turn of events. The night will not fall peacefully tonight. Not with all the buzzing rumors.

I call for Hazel's mother and order Janice to supervise Hazel before she tries to jump out of a window. The girl loves to jump borders. Past the walls of the estate, past windows, and past the fucking walls I set up around myself. How did she sneak so close to my heart? There's so much hate in the damn thing I wasn't even sure it still worked properly. I didn't know I could fucking love.

Once I set arrangements, I head to my office and call Walker.

"You're late," is the first thing he says when he picks up. "You were supposed to call me an hour ago."

"My estate has become a mess. I hope yours is calmer."

He grumbles under his breath. "I'm coming to your estate, Ronan. There are things we have to talk about, and I have reason to believe my communication lines have been compromised. We must speak in person."

"Compromised?" I frown.

"Yes." That's all he says.

"Very well. The guards will open the gates when you arrive. I'll have whiskey prepared for you."

He chuckles. "You know me too well."

"Of course I do, you ugly bastard. I had to share a fucking bunk bed with you in the barracks."

We fall silent as we think of the beginning. Before the war, before the experiments, before we became lords of our estates. We were just two young men training to be soldiers. And then we signed up for the horrific experiments that changed everything. Scarred our faces. Bombed our bodies with testosterone, making us grow taller and muscled. Made us quick to temper. Even gave us longer, thicker cocks to reproduce and pass this curse onto our children.

"See you soon, Ronan."

"See you soon," I responded.

It will be refreshing to pull my hoodie back and reveal my face. To sit across my brother, who is just as scarred as I am, and not feel like a monster.

I set the phone down and think about the past. The pain of all the soldiers who were... terminated. Killed by our superiors when they realized they created demi-gods.

Then I think about the future. And to my dismay, Hazel slips into the vision. I want her. Want to touch her, taste her. Hover my ugly face over hers and fuck her with my monstrous cock. Pump her full of my semen with modified DNA that wouldn't fail at rounding her with my child. A little lord for the estate.

"You sick bastard," I growl.

Hazel is innocent, selfless. She deserves a boring, normal lover.

I walk outside, pumped full of energy that I can either release by fucking or fighting. I head downstairs to the dungeon. There are two prisoners here: a human trafficker that has information pertinent to my investigation, and Peter Lukeson. The guard that attempted to blackmail Hazel.

Torches burn, dimly lighting the dungeon. I dismiss the guard by the door and approach the large cell on the left.

I take a key from my pocket and unlock the door. Peter sits up, scanning me quickly. Probably wondering if he can overpower me and get away. He stays where he is, judging correctly. There's no fucking way he would land a punch on me.

"You were going to rape her, weren't you?" I ask, reaching for my hoodie.

"My Lord–lord. I am the victim here. She assaulted me! Kidnapped me! The bitch is small but mighty!"

I chuckle as I lift my hoodie over my head and toss it aside. Small but mighty? Yeah, that sounds like Hazel.

I reveal my face to Peter. He's one of the few to see it, but that's alright. I plan on beating him so soundly that he'll lose memory of the past week.

He looks at me in horror.

I grin, and then I lunge. Halting him off the bed and pounding into him with all I've got. Basking in the sound of his grunts and whimpers. Painting my fists red. Beating, dominating, and terrorizing like the beast that I am.

By the time I'm done with him, he's whimpering at my feet. Just like Hazel would have been if he got his way with her.

I pick my hoodie up and pull it over my head and walk out of the cell. Although my frustration has calmed, I still feel a deep sense of dissatisfaction. I want to kill him. Rip him apart. But I will let Hazel decide his fate.

I chuckle. "A gift celebrating her new position as the estate's Missus."

I go to my bedroom, scanning the dark room. The curtains are shut as always, the dresser clear, the mirror covered with a sheet and cracked underneath. The massive bed has cold, grey sheets that I've never shared with anyone. Tonight, everything will change.

I walk into the attached bathroom, stripping naked and bathing. Blood rinses from my fists, tainting the tiles. The freezing cold water numbs my fingers, reminding me of how things used to be months ago. When the only thing I had to worry about was my investigation. When my days were boring, grey, and repetitive.

I miss that numbness. I miss not having to deal with these conflicting emotions.

— —

The moonlight streams through my shut curtains, always finding a way to persevere. It's midnight now. I've spent the night in my office, keeping busy to avoid my bedroom where Hazel must be waiting.

I sigh as I rise from my seat and toss my pen on the desk. The office doors slam shut behind me as I walk to my bedroom. When I enter, I find Hazel's small body curled on the left side of the bed. The side where I sleep on.

I don't say a word as I approach the lantern and exhaust it. The room is submerged in darkness, and I walk to the empty side of the bed.

I shrug off my hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans. The bed dips as I lay on it, and Hazel stays still. Her breathing is even. She's asleep.

I close my eyes and frown, painfully aware of her presence on the other side of the bed. Heat surges from the sinister depths of my damned soul and shifts to my cock, awakening it.

Great. Now I can't sleep on my own bed.

I keep my eyes shut and think about work—about anything to forget the beautiful woman on my bed.

With a defeated sigh, I reach for my boxers and slide a hand under the waistband. I listen closely to Hazel's breathing, ensuring she's asleep as I stroke my cock.

Squeezing it, pumping it. Thinking about the beautiful woman in my bed who's asleep and unaware of the sick things I'm doing.

I'm a bastard. An animal. But at least I warned her about my nature. She knew whose bedroom she was stepping into.

I beat harder, faster. Thinking of pink, soft lips wrapped around my cock. Big brown eyes looking up at me with curiosity as she tears me apart one lick at a time. Her maid outfit pooled at her feet, revealing her soft, round breasts marked with my hickeys.

Hazel shifts and raises her head, right as I curse and spill my seed all over my lap.

She gasps and reaches for the lantern beside her bed. Clicking it on, she turns it toward me.

I make no effort to hide what I've done. I've always been honest about how I feel and who I am. Let her be disgusted. Let her run away from the beast of the estate.