Episode 2

Dante

Her scent invades the room even before her footsteps echo in it.

Something warm, feminine… and pure.

My muscles tense. Instinct throbs in my veins, something primitive and voracious roaring in my chest. My breathing becomes irregular. I try to maintain control, my usual pose – cold, unshakable – but everything inside me screams to possess her.

To mark her.

To fuck her as soon as possible.

My jaw clenches. I swallow hard. Damn it.

Ever since I knew I would have to take a wife, I imagined it would be something mechanical, necessary only to preserve my legacy. I am the last of my line. The only pure descendant of the Blackwoods. This means my duty is greater than myself. Greater than my desires, my wants.

I need heirs.

And she… Julia Mildren…

She is the one who will give me these children.

She is mine.

The thought hits me like a punch to the chest when I finally see her step into the room.

In a wedding dress, as I asked. Her hair loose, her face marked by contempt and revolt.

So young. So stubborn. And, damn it, so beautiful.

She stops at the entrance, hesitant. Her eyes stare at me, wide, full of defiance and confusion. She probably expected a decrepit old man as some of her letters said, a cachectic tyrant smelling of death.

What irony.

If she knew who I really am.

If she knew that beneath this civilized skin, a famished beast dwells...

But there's nowhere for her to run.

My voice comes out firm, sharp:

“Sit down and eat. I need you strong and healthy to give me children.”

The silence that follows is absolute.

Julia blinks a few times, as if trying to process my words. Her lips part, but no sound escapes at first. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling at an accelerated pace.

Then, finally, her voice echoes in the room.

“D-did you marry me just to get me pregnant? Is that it?!”

There is disbelief in her tone. Fury.

Her fingers tighten on the skirt of her dress, her shoulders tense as if ready to fight.

I stare at her, motionless.

Of course, this would be her reaction. Of course, she would feel outraged. But that doesn't change the facts. She was made for me.

And she will understand that. Sooner or later. She looks at me as if I were a monster.

Not that it's anything new.

Julia is still standing at the entrance of the dining room, her fists clenched, her breath short. Her eyes shine with indignation, and for a moment, I can almost hear the thoughts churning inside her head.

Disgust. Anger. Fear.

She feels all of this now. But above all, she feels revolt.

“You didn't answer.” She takes a step forward, chin up, defiant. “Am I just a womb to you?”

I smirk. Small, discreet.

This girl…

She is brave.

That pleases me.

But courage means nothing in the face of reality.

“Yes,” I say, bluntly.

The word hangs in the air like a blow. Direct. Raw. Without any effort to soften the truth.

I know I could lie. That I could use more delicate words, pretend this marriage is something more than a necessary agreement. But I see no point in that.

She needs to understand what we are to each other.

She is not my wife out of love.

She is my wife because I chose her to carry my lineage.

“You bastard,” she spits the words, taking another step forward. Her eyes burn with hatred, her chest heaving with the force of her emotion. “Do you think you can just… use me? Treat me like an object?”

My jaw clenches. Her foolish mistake.

I don't see her as an object.

I see her as a necessity.

She has no idea what's at stake here. Of what I am. Of what I carry.

She cannot comprehend that my species is on the brink of extinction. That I am the last pure wolf of the Blackwood line. That, without children, my race dies with me.

That my own curse will be my end.

“Don't pretend you didn't know, Julia,” my voice comes out low, but firm. “Your parents sold you to me. You were already mine before you even set foot here.”

She trembles.

Her body stiffens, as if my words had finally reached the depth they were meant to.

Reality weighs down on her.

But, instead of crying, of yielding, of retreating…

She laughs.

Low, dry, laden with bitterness.

“I already hated you without even knowing you,” she murmurs, her eyes fixed on mine. “But now? Now I despise you with all the strength I have.”

Something inside me stirs. A dark, primitive… dangerous part.

She's playing with fire. And she has no idea what that means.

***This work has been signed with NovelToon, and piracy such as reprinting without permission is strictly prohibited.***

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***