The Apocalyptic Queen's Werewolf Journey (Thora and Darius) novel Chapter 43

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**Chapter 43: Stolen Kiss Beneath the Surface**

**Thora’s POV:**

I had always prided myself on my swimming skills, so when I decided to dive into the pool, I did so without a moment’s hesitation. The water welcomed me, cool and refreshing, as I plunged beneath the surface. The pool was deceptively deep, its depths reaching around ten to twelve feet, a fact I noted as I descended.

As I let the weight of my body pull me down, my eyes caught sight of Hazel being pulled from the water by Caleb, her expression a mix of surprise and relief. It was a fleeting moment, but it spurred me to flip myself around and propel myself back toward the surface.

Just as I began to swim, I felt a large, firm hand clamp down on my shoulder, sending a jolt of surprise through me. My instinct kicked in, and I reached back to shove it away, but the grip felt as if it were forged from iron, unyielding and inescapable. Rather than releasing me, the hand pressed down even harder, a clear signal that this was no friendly encounter.

I narrowed my eyes, frustration boiling within me as I swung my arm back in a fierce attempt to break free, sending water splashing around us. But my assailant was quick, evading my efforts with effortless grace.

He was impossibly fast!

Just as I turned to regain my composure, a powerful arm encircled my waist, yanking me into a warm embrace. The suddenness of it all made my heart race, and I felt an involuntary gasp escape my lips. My shoulder and waist were firmly locked in place, his overwhelming strength rendering me immobile.

Frowning, I looked up, our eyes locking. There, with a charming smile that could disarm anyone, was Darius.

Oh, great. It was him again!

A wave of irritation washed over me, and I couldn’t help but grind my teeth in frustration. This man had become my personal adversary, a thorn in my side. Every single encounter felt like a battle, and he always managed to pin me down, both physically and emotionally.

If looks could kill, he would have met his demise countless times over.

Yet, there he stood, seemingly oblivious to the fury radiating from me, his lips curving into an amused grin. Before I could formulate a plan to escape, he leaned in, his intent clear.

In an instant, our weight sent us both plunging deeper into the water.

As we hit the bottom, he instinctively raised one hand to protect the back of my head while the other tightened around my waist. His handsome face loomed closer, and before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips met mine, cool and unexpected.

Shock coursed through me, and my eyes flew open wide. My mind went blank, unable to process the sudden turn of events.

By the time my senses returned, I realized he was attempting to deepen the kiss, trying to pry my lips apart. A surge of fury erupted from deep within my chest.

How dare he force a kiss on me!

With a fierce determination, I thrust my hand against his chest, pushing him away with all my strength. He staggered back slightly, an expression of regret flashing across his face, as if he felt he hadn’t had enough of me yet. This only stoked the fire of my anger further.