The Touch of Demise │18+

08: Body of A Warrior

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

He was a calculated and meticulous lycanthrope. He was filled with rage and consumed with every desire to demand everything.

He wasn't given anything. He took and that was all he knew what to do.

He wasn't used to feeling anything except negativity.

But with her, with Grace, he wanted to be gentle. No, he had to be gentle. He didn't understand why he cared so much.

He didn't know why he saw red at the sight of her being hurt. She wasn't his. She wasn't of rank. She was a sick female lycanthrope.

Maybe that's what he liked. Maybe he liked feeling needed in a different way. Maybe he liked taking care of her. Maybe he liked something soft in his life.

And she was...so soft. So gentle. Her smile was delicate, her body was plump, her personality was so kind.

He didn't know anything when it came to her. He wasn't even sure in what way he wanted her in his life, if at all.

After leaving her room, he gathered his enforcers and beta in the throne room. He was done with this bullshit. She was the last straw. He was prepared to protect her– no, he meant his pack.

Fuck.

As soon as he walked in, his lycanthropes bowed for him. He went to his throne made of marble. It was made for appearance's sake, not comfort. That was fine to him. He didn't spend much time in here otherwise.

This room was made specifically for him to make remarks to his people. Nothing else.

"Tonight," Demise began as he climbed up the stairs to his throne. He didn't sit. He turned to face the collection of warriors. "A female has been attacked on the edge of capitol lands."

There were a few growls of annoyance. No one liked for their pack to be threatened, but even more, they disliked when their females were put in danger. Demise ran a traditional kingdom. Most of his enforcers were men, most women worked in the kitchen or stayed home. There were strict gender roles, but both roles in their society were valued in their own way.

Demise especially didn't like when his women were put in danger. He was a firm believer that men were the protectors while women were the nurturers.

"This is unacceptable. Thirty tertiums will be tasked with going into the villages outside of the capitol for an investigation. You will question the Deltas, Epsilons, and pack mates. You will not return until you have told me who wants to overthrow me and for what reason."

He personally selected the best to pursue this investigation. Then he chose a few others to remove the body from Grace's cottage and bring her things into the palace. The rest remained under his watchful eye. He cleared his throat.

"Let's train."

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

She could hear the grunts of exertion from her room. Standing from the bed, she went to the window, seeing the enforcers standing in formation with partners. They were fighting each other, practicing their technique and learning from the other.

She admired their form. They were shirtless. The muscles in their back contorted with each lunge, each step, every exertion of their strength. She cocked her head to the side.

Sex was never heavily on her mind. Sure, she felt desire now and again. Sometimes she masturbated as most women did. Other times she found a male to take her to bed. But it was never something she needed. Nothing she craved. It was simply an itch that she scratched.