Chapter 426: Regrets
Selene’s POV
His hands slid lower, gripping my ass now, forcing me down harder, deeper, until there was no space left between us, no escape from the brutal, aching fullness of him. The steady grind of his hips made the bed creak beneath us.
"Fuck, Selene," he groaned, burying his face in my neck, his breath hot and ragged. "You feel too good. Like you were made for me."
The words gutted me. Not for you. Never for you. But my body betrayed me again, shuddering, clenching around him in desperate pulses that only fed his hunger.
My sobs came faster, quieter, swallowed into the heat of his skin. He thought it was ecstasy. He thought it was pleasure. He had no idea it was my soul breaking.
His tongue traced the line of my throat, his teeth grazing lightly over my pulse, sending sparks down my spine. "Say it again," he demanded against my skin, his voice thick with pleasure. "Say my name while you take me."
My heart screamed no, but my lips parted anyway, spilling the word in a moan. "Frederick..."
His answering growl was savage, triumphant, as he thrust up hard, hitting that devastating spot inside me. My head snapped back, another broken cry escaping, the sound twisting into something between a sob and a moan.
He didn’t stop. His grip tightened, guiding my hips in brutal, perfect circles, drawing me higher and higher toward the edge I didn’t want to fall from. Shame burned in my chest, shame that tasted like ashes on my tongue, but pleasure still tore through me, relentless, merciless.
"I can feel you," he rasped, eyes dark with hunger as he looked up at me. "You’re close, aren’t you? Don’t hold back. Cum for me."
My tears blurred everything, turning his face into a smear of fire and shadow. My nails dug harder into his back, leaving stinging marks, but still I moved, still I rode him like he asked. My body surged toward that terrible, inevitable release even as my heart bled.
Inside my head, I was screaming. I hate you. I hate me more. I swore I’d kill you, not—
The thought broke, drowned under the force of sensation. My walls clenched tight around him, my body wracked with tremors I couldn’t stop. Pleasure ripped through me like lightning, so violent it dragged a raw, unholy sound from my throat.
He caught it, devouring my mouth in a crushing kiss, swallowing the sob that spilled free with my climax. His tongue tangled with mine, desperate, dominant, as though my release was his victory.
And maybe it was.
When it was over, when the spasms began to fade, I sagged against him, trembling, my tears still hot and endless against his skin. He held me tighter, stroking my back, whispering low, possessive praises into my ear—completely blind to the fact that I wasn’t trembling from aftershocks alone, but from the hollow, soul-deep ache of betraying myself.
As the pleasure faded, leaving me weak and exhausted, the blinding clarity of my betrayal hit me with the force of a physical blow. The pleasure, that monstrous, all-consuming pleasure, evaporated, leaving behind a cold, hollow cavity where my soul used to be.
My mother’s face—pale, stained with blood—flashed behind my eyelids. I vowed. I vowed.
The realization hit me. I shoved hard against his chest, wrenching my body free of his slack embrace. He was still heavy with relief, breathing slow and deep against my neck, but the sudden, desperate force of my movement made him grumble and release me.
I scrambled back over the sweaty, rumpled sheets, stumbling off the side of the bed. My legs felt like water, but I forced myself upright, not pausing to look down at my exposed, ruined body. I just needed to be away.
"Selene? What the hell?" Frederick’s voice was rough with confusion and annoyance, the sudden coldness in the room snapping him out of his post-climax haze.
I finally looked at him, and the sight was sickening. He was sprawled on his back, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, a slow, predatory smile just starting to curve his lips—the look of a conqueror, a victor. He reached out a hand toward me, attempting to pull me back into his arms.
"Get back here, little wolf," he commanded, his voice already returning to that thick, arrogant drawl.
I flinched back from his hand as if he’d struck me. I felt bile rising in my throat. My own tears had dried, leaving tight, salty tracks on my cheeks. I stared at him, not with desire, but with a pure, resurrected hate.
"Don’t touch me," I spat, my voice a raw whisper that shook with barely contained rage.
He went still. His smile vanished. His dark eyes narrowed, instantly hard and predatory again, finally registering that my trembling wasn’t from pleasure, and the tears hadn’t been ecstasy.
"What is this, Selene? The coy act is getting old." He sat up, crossing his arms over his powerful chest.
I took a shaky step back toward the wall, desperate to find my clothes and my composure. I needed to solidify the iron walls around my wolf and my heart again. He is the enemy. He is the killer. This was a tactical error.
I straightened my spine, forcing the air back into my lungs. "This," I said, my voice gaining strength, steeling itself, "changes nothing. Nothing about us."
I looked directly at him, letting the hatred shine in my eyes. My fingers found my skirt lying on the floor. I ripped it up and pulled it on with clumsy, frantic movements.
Frederick stared at me, his face unreadable, his immense power radiating in the sudden, tense silence. He must have noticed the cold anger, the utter self-loathing, but he didn’t understand the source. And he couldn’t know.
As I dressed, I made a silent promise to myself. Fuck the mate bond. By tomorrow, I’ll poison my blood. And make sure he feeds from me so I can end all this.