My hands trembled as I tried to wash myself in the bathtub. For a brief moment, it felt good icy rivulets soothing the external burn, cooling the sweat that had plastered my hair to my neck and made my body glisten like I’d been doused in oil. I leaned back against the porcelain, gasping, my bound ankles—wait, no, he’d untied my hands but left my legs free now? No, everything blurred.
The ropes were gone from my wrists, but the phantom ache remained, red welts circling my skin like bracelets of fire. I scooped water over my chest, trying to rinse away the sticky residue of slick that clung to my thighs, but my movements were weak, uncoordinated. Every brush of my fingers against my hypersensitive flesh sent unwelcome jolts through me, not relief, but a reminder of the void inside.
I couldn’t even bring myself to touch lower, where the need pulsed hottest; my mind recoiled at the thought of doing it alone, without him.
But the respite was short-lived. As the water grew tepid around me, a fresh burning sensation ignited deep in my core, shooting outward like lightning through my veins. It started as a low throb in my abdomen, then spread—my pussy clenching desperately around nothing, slick renewing its flow despite the chill.
This wasn’t just the heat; it was the cruel twist of having his pheromones so near yet denied. Elias’s scent lingered on my skin from when he’d carried me here, a faint trace of that dominant alpha musk—earthy pine and forged steel—that my omega biology craved like air.
Without his full presence, without his touch to ground it, the pheromones turned toxic, pricking at my nerves like thousands of needles. It amplified the pain, making my body scream for completion. Omegas weren’t meant to endure this half-state; our heats demanded total surrender or total agony. I doubled over in the tub, hugging my knees, sobs echoing off the tiled walls.
“Why… why won’t it stop?” I whispered to no one, tears mixing with the water. The burn intensified, a vise squeezing my womb, radiating to my breasts, my thighs, even my fingertips. I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside, every cell begging for the one thing that could quench it: him.
The door swung open without warning, and he entered. No sympathy in those piercing blue eyes, just added up detachment. He didn’t speak at first, just strode in, his boots clicking on the floor, and scooped me up from the tub like I weighed nothing. Water dripped from my naked body onto his shirt, but he didn’t flinch.
His arms around me were a torment all their own—his heat seeping through the fabric, his pheromones enveloping me fully now, easing the needle-pricks into a dull roar but igniting fresh waves of need.
I whimpered against his chest, my face buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling him greedily. “Elias… please…”
He carried me back to the bedroom without a word, the air cooler now, the bed remade with fresh sheets that smelled of crisp linen instead of my desperation. He laid me down gently—too gently, almost mocking in its false care and stepped back, his gaze raking over my exposed form. I curled onto my side, tears blurring my vision as I looked up at him. He was still so handsome, that chiseled jaw, those broad shoulders, but the coldness in his eyes made him seem like a stranger.
A monster. The alpha everyone feared, the one who’d built his empire on ruthlessness. My body betrayed me again, slick pooling anew just from his proximity, but the pain lingered, a constant undercurrent.
Before I could beg again, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers, throwing them onto the bed beside me with a flick of his wrist. They scattered like accusations.
“Sign them,” he ordered.
I pushed myself up on shaking elbows, the movement sending a fresh stab through my core. My hands fumbled for the papers, the words swimming before my eyes.
“What… what are they?”
Elias crossed his arms, leaning against the bedpost with that smirk creeping back onto his lips—cold, mocking, like he was enjoying my confusion.
“Your way out of this pain, little omega. Sign them, and you’ll be my legal mate. That means cutting all ties with that alpha of yours. No meeting him, no fucking him or any other alpha or beta. You’ll belong to me completely. Body, soul, everything.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out, the door slamming like a final judgment.
I collapsed into the sheets, sobs wracking my body as the pain crested again. Why was this happening to me? All I’d wanted was to protect him, to unravel the web of lies around his family, but now I was trapped in my own.
The burn returned full force, my pussy aching so badly I squeezed my thighs together, rocking futilely, slick soaking the fresh linens already. Hours blurred—maybe minutes, but it felt eternal. I wondered if he’d really let me go if I didn’t sign. No, his cold side wouldn’t allow it.
He’d cage me anyway, torment me without the contract’s protections. At least signing gave me a legal status—mates had rights, even if minimal. I could bide my time, reveal the truth about my father later, when the heat passed and he might listen. Enduring alone might kill me; omegas had died from prolonged heats without relief. And deep down, beneath the pain, a twisted part of me still craved him—the bond pulling me despite his cruelty. It was the only way out, the valid path through this hell.
Two hours later—or what felt like it—the door opened again. Elias stood there, arms crossed, eyes still cold. “Ready?”
I nodded weakly, tears streaming. “Yes… I’ll sign.”
He handed me a pen, watching as my shaking hand scrawled my name across the pages. Satisfaction flickered in his gaze, cold and triumphant. He gathered the papers, tucking them away, then hovered over me, his body caging mine against the bed. His scent overwhelmed me, promising relief at last.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a mocking purr. “Now, let’s help you… as the contract suggests.”
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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