"Do you truly think you can win? All your kind . . . All it ever achieves is constant pain . . . Constant death. Nothing will stand in my way of getting what I want."
The snap of feral-like jaws, and teeth gnashing hard together echoes in the back of his mind as Matthias wakes up. His breath was shallow, cold sweat covered his body as he shakily swiped his hair away. It took him a few moments to realize that he was in the comfort of his own bed, alone. He let out a frustrated groan before hastily pushing himself off the bed as soon as he detected the sound of a knock on his door. Barefoot with a bottle of Merlot, Matthias opened the door, his skin cast in soft auroral hues by the moon.
—
"—One night? Just a little bit of fun? I won't push you, I swear." The woman's fingers are crossed behind her back. Matthias sighs as he fixes his loose black silk shirt. The Alpha's eyes lazily rolled open some more, glazed over with the remnants of a dream.
This close, the woman could see the flecks of silver in his mismatched eyes. The lady gaped openly as she observed his sharp jaw, chin, and cheekbones. "Nikita," Matthias slowly moves his head closer to the she-wolf, his hand softly tilting her chin up. She stands frozen, from both fear and excitement. She leans in, so her forehead rests against his. "Yes, Alpha?" She replies, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Get out of my fucking sight."
She gulped nervously. The way his tired eyes squinted when he glared at her reminded her of a pit viper's slit-like pupils. A burning animosity was developing in his colourful orbs, and she could tell she was likely the root cause of the problem. She instantly lowered her head in submission. "Yes, Alp-."
Matthias shuts the door behind him before the young woman could even finish. His footsteps were soft as he walked across the hallway and into his empty room. The darkness swirled around his curled form on his bed as he reverently rubbed his fingers along the silken mattress. His expression was rather listless, and his thoughts heavy, as he pondered his newest title in quiet contemplation. It was his duty now to restore his pack to its former glory, to take back the throne. The burden, though heavy as it may be, was one he gladly bore. He was a Black, which made him more than capable of accomplishing such a task, and dealing with any repercussions that might arise due to his actions just like . . . Madelyn.
The grief suddenly came in waves and threatened to consume him entirely. He slowly sat up and rested his head in his hands. Regret washed over him like the long slow waves on a shallow beach. Each wave was icy cold and sent shivers down his spine. How he longed to go back and take a different path, but now that was impossible.
"You could've warned her." His wolf growls.
Doubt suddenly starts to shoot through him like a piercing arrow destroying resistance. Doubt at his existence. Doubt at his journey if it was worth it. Worry grew like a corrupted, malicious and perfidy tree. Its branches twisted. "Fuck it." He muttered as the sour and vile taste of the alcohol slipped into his mouth, nullifying him, stealing away reality in favor of fantasy.
The thought of a mate swims into his mind as he closes his eyes. His fingers gently running up and down her spine, coaxing shivers out of the hidden Luna. He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. She watched breathlessly as his eyes studied hers with a silent intensity. His warm breath ghosted across her unknown face. The heat seemed to travel through his veins, warming him. Just as he felt a rush of euphoric bliss envelop him, the thought passes.
His eyes seeing once more, his ears hearing the here and now. When his thoughts became nonsense, and all the more interesting for it, he knew he was falling asleep. Now all he had to do was let go. As his consciousness ebbed, his mind went into free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of a new dream.
—
"—They say those northmen are a savage folk, and their woods are full of wolves. They are hard and cold, and they have no mercy."
The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes glowed, the light making them look alive. Their light honey color was soft and a ring of gold hung inside her iris, adding another layer of depth to her already captivating eyes.
"Hard and cold," She paused, head tilted toward the already black sky. The moonlight streamed down upon her skin. She quietly observed the moon, the shape of her faint red lips reflecting the crescent above.
". . . We'll see about that."
______________________
A slightly short (and bad) chapter but I needed to update.
Thank you @Mistress_Jaeger for helping me with this chapter, ilyy. x
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Seven Devils
Hombres Lobo❝ His white figure stood in biting contrast to the dirt on his body and the red splatters that covered the rest of him. Some of them were definitely wine stains. Some of them were definitely not. Blood had clotted in the ends of the mess of midnigh...
