Grasping Fate

“LET ME GO!” Alessandra hollered, her body thrashing around like a wild animal.

Elijah, unfazed, continued his steady march into the ominous woods.

“CAN’T YOU HEAR ME? PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!”

“Look, I don’t want to have to silence you, but you’re really testing my patience,” he grumbled.

“Testing patience?” she spat, her hair wild and whipping around in the wind from her furious outbursts. “I’m not the one testing patience here. Take me back to the compound right now or I swear to the goddess.”

In her fit of rage, she seemed to forget who she was dealing with. The raw, primal anger radiating from the powerful man beneath her served as a chilling reminder.

“If you keep this up, you’ll never see that place again. Do you understand?” His voice was eerily calm, his face as unyielding as stone, his body rigid and unyielding. His very presence was a display of dominance, a silent command for her to submit.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard, falling silent. How could she be so reckless? He was the deadliest predator on the planet and she was throwing a tantrum.

Then she started to consider more strategic ways to escape this dangerously attractive man. They were quick, cunning, strong, and most importantly, they lived for centuries.

That meant he was probably wiser than all her teachers, their parents, and grandparents combined.

It was common knowledge that Lycans never let go of their mates, but if they’d been raiding faery villages for centuries—they must harbor some kind of grudge against them.

Why else would they annihilate every single one of them within a ten-mile radius of the village centers?

So why would this one be so possessive over a mate who is the enemy? Maybe she could use that to her advantage. A way out. He doesn’t really want her.

He could claim anyone else, any other Lycan or werewolf, just not her.

“So,” she started hesitantly, realizing her mistake only after she’d made it... this isn’t going well.

“Like, aren’t you supposed to hate me or something?” Alessandra wanted to rip out her own tongue, her words sounded so absurdly foolish it was painful.

Elijah didn’t respond, just kept walking. The trees seemed to part for him, creating a path.

“So like, why not just, um, let me down here and I’ll find my own way out?” She stammered nervously. This was never going to work. She’d never escape him.

Elijah stopped abruptly. His grip tightened around her waist, becoming as unyielding as steel. “Alessandra. I don’t think I made myself clear when I said you will never, ever leave me. You have no idea—no fucking clue, how many strings I’ve had to pull to bring you here.”

Despite the scorn in his voice, the wheels started turning in her head, “Wait—if you had to pull strings for me to be here—then you must have seen me before! Tell me what you know about my past!”

Elijah’s eyes widened, if only for a split second. She knew. She fucking knew. How did she know? They’d tampered with her memory when he’d first seen her because she’d seen too much of their kingdom.

Knew too many secrets. Knew him.

Alexander had told him they’d have to alter her memory, so that when they met again when she was of age, the bond would start to form then—and not from such a young age.

He knew that if they’d left her memories intact, she would’ve never wanted to leave the kingdom. That would’ve caused problems.

A faery, especially an unclaimed one, running around the kingdom, would’ve raised too many questions.

Even though Elijah had no intention of letting his newly found mate go, he knew that she was too young.

It would have been torture to have her right there, maturing slowly in front of him. The sexual attraction would only kick in when both parties were over seventeen, but he would have been incredibly possessive.

It would have gotten worse as she grew and by the time Alessandra turned eighteen, Elijah would’ve likely tried to isolate her from the outside world.

Elijah, thinking back to that damned beta-heritage, and the fucking boy with a death-wish who took her virginity, wished he’d just kept her in the safe confines of his condo back at the kingdom.

Words couldn’t express the rage he felt when he found out about her hook-up. The searing pain and burning that coursed through his veins.

He wanted to torture the boy slowly for taking what was his, for touching and fucking something that belonged to him and him alone.

That’s why he made sure the boy was never heard from again. It took him three months to recover from that.

Three months of constant injections of extasine to keep him from going completely insane and marking her in her sleep. She was fucking lucky the mark wasn’t already on her now at nearly eighteen.

How he’d managed to restrain himself for the past few months, he’d never know.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered. His patience with her was wearing thin. She had grown into a beautiful woman. Curvaceous, soft curves. Full, round breasts. Skin soft and creamy. His beast was ravenous inside him, yearning to claim her as his. Savoring the thought of her dreamy eyes and the spark that dared to ignite between them. He knew it would only take about five minutes to mark her. Five minutes to stake his rightful claim on her soft neck. Warning off anyone who dared to even think about making a move on her.

Just the thought of it sent a roar echoing through his mind, his beast itching to come out and do just that.

The air was charged with electricity, and suddenly Alessandra felt very claustrophobic slung over this beast's muscled shoulder.

The heat radiating from his skin was clouding her senses, all she could focus on was him. His touch felt secure around her waist, binding her to his body tightly.

His sharp jaw was taut and strong as he looked ahead, his bright golden eyes swirling with emotion. His perfect dark hair was windswept and a few locks of hair trickled down his forehead lazily.

His dark lashes swept across the tops of his cheekbones as he blinked, he was the epitome of beauty and she couldn’t stop the arousal filling her stomach as she breathed in his spicy scent.

Elijah knew he was done for the moment he caught her scent. Years of patient waiting, knowing she was out there somewhere. Finding the fiery spitfire and hauling her back to the city over his shoulder.

Only then did he realize how foolish he'd been to think he could wait, that he could keep his desire in check.

Her sweet arousal was heady, wrapping them in a haze of sexual need and desire.

Elijah set her down roughly before crashing his lips onto hers in a breathtaking kiss. The fire seemed to rise around them, encasing them, trapping them.

He ran his fingers through her silky hair, tilting her head up slightly to deepen the kiss.

When her arms wound around his neck, playing with the short hairs at the base, he traced the seam of her soft, full lips with his tongue, practically begging for a taste.

When she opened to him, she nearly moaned at his dark, enticing flavor. Their tongues waged a silent war, lost in the flames that seemed to surround them.

Alessandra let out a soft sound of pleasure when Elijah’s lips trailed along her jawline, nipping at the skin of her neck. His lips were warm against her cool skin, making her knees weak.

His hands slid down her sides and gripped the backs of her thighs, causing her to gasp as he lifted her, forcing her to wrap her legs around his muscular waist.

She was so lost in the sensation that she barely noticed his sharp canines grazing her delicate skin, as if asking to claim her.

The sharp scrape of his gleaming teeth was enough to snap her out of her daze.

“Wait!” she cried, trying once more to pull Elijah’s face away from her neck. A deep, angry rumble echoed from his chest. His eyes were a deep black, with swirls of gold, reflecting her image. The golden veins stood out on his flushed skin, glowing in the dim forest light.

“Let me mark you, Alessandra.” His voice was otherworldly, the same guttural Torobic the beast had spoken.

She shook her head frantically; they'd only just met. And she wanted to leave, even if that thought now sent a familiar sharp pain into her stomach, the sense of dread overwhelming her.

What is this? she wondered.

He narrowed his eyes at her, another low growl echoing off the trees and branches that seemed to close in around them. “Let me.”

She shook her head again, “You—you can't.”

“Is that a threat or a command? Because either way, you will bear my mark even if it kills me to get it on you.” His words held a dark promise; she didn't really want to question it. He seemed too unstable.

“You are mine. Mine. I don't care what I need to do or who I need to kill to get you to stay with me, but I WILL do it. Do not test me.”

She sat and stared at the beast, a mix of fear and anger at herself. She couldn't speak right now unless she wanted to be fully bonded. So she sat quietly as he once again began to walk.

She couldn't believe herself; one minute she was fine and the next she wanted to fuck his brains out like there was no tomorrow.

She'd even thought about how good it must've felt to have this level of intimacy in a relationship all the time.

How good it must have felt to constantly be able to lose control and act on complete instinct, give in to what they are. To act like crazed sex-starved animals and lose yourself to the absolute abyss.

But if she ever wanted to see Lizzie, Renzo, or Jess again, she'd have to get away, even if it meant she lost the one good thing to come out of her shitty, boring, confusing life.

Even if she lost the chance at ever finding that one person she could lose herself with. Even if the thought hurt so tremendously. This just confused her brain even more.