His To Possess ✔️

After

The morning is peaceful. Quiet. Gentle light seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows, warming a patch of wooden floors. In the center of the room stands a king-sized bed, with two people sleeping in it. At first glance, you could think the pair is in love. The blonde man's arm is wrapped around his little mate, securing her to his chest, sleeping soundly, their legs entwined together.

But if you looked closer, your opinion would change. There's blood on the sheets, now brown from drying up. The woman herself is laying uncomfortably, her eyes open, not blinking, big and red from a restless night. Her lips shape one two three over and over again, her palms gently trembling. Broken, you would think.

The man finally shifts, waking from his deep slumber, drawing his possession even closer. The woman's hands stop shaking. She doesn't chant her mantra anymore, too. She tenses even more, though she desperately tries to look like she's asleep.

The man nuzzles his nose to the said woman's shoulder, gently biting the skin where his mark, the mark of ownership, is, caressing her body with his arm, finally placing it under her breasts, holding her in place.

The man wasn't happy to find out last night that he wasn't the first to his mate. He got angry. He got rough. He drew blood. He swore to his mate that he will find that miserable male that touched his property. He promised her he will kill him. And then he fucked her raw, making her scream in pleasure until both of them couldn't continue any longer. Finally, this woman was properly marked as his.

Finally, he got up. He took some clothes from the wardrobe and went to the shower, cleaned himself, got dressed, and, glancing at his mate once, left the bedroom, letting her face the morning alone.

Eira

I lay in the bed, not being able to move. Everything hurt. I want to get up, but I can't find the energy to move. I just want to stay here, drowning in my shame and disgust. But what will happen if he finds you still in bed naked?  I can't let him do this to me ever again. I need to get the hell away from this place, so I try to get up, to make my legs move. Pain shoots through my core, making me wince, bringing the memories of last night to the surface again. Slowly, so very slowly, I manage to throw my legs over the bed and stand up. Something sticky trails down my legs. I won't get pregnant, I won't... I keep my mind shut down, concentrating only on my breathing. In and out. With effort, I make it to the wardrobe, grab some clothes, and manage to get in the shower.

Once again, warm water doesn't help. I'm shaking, violently. As I start to clean myself up, desperately wanting to get the smell of him off of me, I feel a sharp pain in my hips. I look down and whimper, not believing what I see. Four crescent wounds on each side travel down my waist, starting to close up, but still oozing blood. The mark of his claws. Hickeys cover my stomach, purple against the white skin. My wrists are red where he held me immobile. Black bruises shaped like his fingertips mark my breasts. He branded me in every way possible. Like an animal.

I scramble out of the shower, abruptly trying to dry myself with the towel. My mind is screaming at me, threatening to shut down completely. I try convincing myself to stay sane, to focus on putting my sweatpants on, then a sweater. 

Should I stay here? I don't want to go down, where all the other people are. I don't want them to see my shame. But I also don't want Ronan to come here and take me down, even more, I don't want him staying here with me. So, I choose the lesser of two evils.

One step at a time, I make it to the bedroom door, always focusing on one single thing, not letting any other thought distract me. Put a hand on the handle. Press it. Push the door. Exit. Close the door. Walk.