Cass’s POV

"Do what you want with me, Angel."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want," he replies, his voice dropping an octave.

"Don't mind if I do." I lean down, pressing my lips to the pulse point at his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. My hands trace his chest, carefully maneuvering around the healing silver wounds. As I move lower, his breathing hitches, and low, ragged moans spill from his lips. I look up, catching his gaze; he’s watching me with a mix of agony and pure, electric desire.

"Do you like this?" I whisper.

"Yes... baby," he groans.

I take control, my movements deliberate and teasing. When I finally take him into my mouth, the salty tang of his precum is a jolt to my senses. I push myself to the limit, savoring the way he loses his composure, his fingers white-knuckled as he grips the bed frame. He’s on the verge of breaking—I can see it in the way his muscles twitch.

But I’m not done yet. Just as he’s about to release, I pull away.

He grunts, a mix of protest and awe. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"This was meant to be a punishment, wasn't it?" I tease, climbing up his body. I strip away my shirt and bra, letting him feast his eyes on me. His gaze is hungry, desperate. I take my time, rubbing myself against him, tormenting him, until I can feel his need radiating like heat.

Finally, I guide him inside. The friction is immediate, a searing connection that forces a melody of moans from us both. I take the lead, grinding my hips, then switching to a rhythmic, driving pace. When he’s moments away from finishing, I stop again, pinning his hips down.

"No," I command, my voice firm. "Only when I allow it."

"You’re killing me," he breathes, his face flushed.

We play this game until he’s frayed, his control shattered. Then, with a sudden, violent roar, he pulls with everything he has. The heavy chain snaps, and the world flips.

I’m pinned beneath him before I can catch my breath. He’s a wall of muscle and desperation, his eyes dark with a primal, possessive hunger.

"You’re mine now," he growls, his lips crashing onto mine.

There’s no slow buildup this time. He moves with a savage, rhythmic intensity that rattles the bed against the wall. I cling to him, my voice rising in a ragged, unfiltered scream that I know the guards can hear. I don't care. I reach my climax in a wave of white-hot oblivion, and moments later, he follows, his body shuddering as he buries his face in my neck, spent.

The morning sun filters through the window as we drift in the afterglow. The peace is short-lived; a heavy, rhythmic pounding rattles the door.

"Princess," Serge’s voice cuts through the haze. "We need to go."

I ignore him, cuddling deeper into Colt’s chest, but then—

CRACK

. The wood splinters. Serge stands in the doorway, eyes averted. "The healers are here for him. We must move."

I sigh, sharing one last lingering kiss with Colt. "I'll be back," I promise.

"I’ll be waiting," he whispers.

I’m walking back to the main house, my thighs aching with the delicious reminder of the night, when the world suddenly explodes.

I’m sent flying through a window as a body slams into me with the force of a battering ram. I hit the dirt hard, my arm throbbing, but before I can recover, a shadow looms.

"YOU ARE MINE!" Ezra roars, his eyes glowing with a feral, distorted light. "YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP WITH HIM AGAIN!"

He lunges for my throat, but Serge intercepts him in a blur of motion. It’s a massacre. Ezra, fully lost to his rage, slashes Serge’s chest to ribbons and tears a chunk of meat from his shoulder.

"No!" I scream.

Ezra turns his blood-crazed eyes on me and starts to

shift

. I scramble to my feet, my own wolf rising in a desperate, snapping frenzy. We collide, teeth and claws tearing at the air. He’s stronger, larger, a juggernaut of malice. He slams me into the earth and locks his jaws onto my shoulder.

CRACK.

Colt is there, broken shackles still dangling from his wrists. He tackles Ezra, and the two collide like wild dogs. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and copper.

I see Warrick and my brothers sprinting toward us, but it’s too late. Ezra, desperate to kill his brother, lunges for Colt’s neck.

My vision whites out. A roar—my own, yet deeper, ancient—tears from my lungs, vibrating through the very marrow of the earth. The field freezes. Ezra and Colt stop, their jaws locked, their eyes wide.

Silence descends. Everyone—my brothers, the guards, the pack—drops to their knees.

Even my brothers bow. Only Warrick remains standing, staring at me with a mixture of terror and dawning, catastrophic realization.