Everything seemed like a struggle. To breathe. To live. It only made her desire of ending her existence overpowering. She was surrounded by darkness and couldn’t remember anything but her name and what she was – a witch.

She was still deep into unconsciousness but the feeling of being watched prickled her skin and was stirring her awake every passing second. The more she was awake, the more she became aware of another presence inside the room.

Her ears still rang and her head still ached and the feeling of being watched was still there. She felt the soft fabric beneath her and found that her head rested on a soft pillow – a thing which was quite rare for her. A thick duvet was draped over her body, keeping her warm.

Her surroundings surprised her and as if on instinct, hands flew towards her bosom to check is she had any clothes on. She found a white shirt that covered her body. It was meant for someone bigger and wider than her and so were the trousers she was wearing.

Slowly, she sat up, letting the duvet fall of her body. She looked at the room she was in. It looked like the insides of a palace and she was sitting on a huge, regal bed. It was the most comfortable thing she had ever laid on. The place was something that she could only think about in her dreams.

But where was she and how did she come here? Suddenly, she was aware of another presence in the room and as if on cue, a deep, manly voice uttered, “Orabelle…”

It made her sit up in bewilderment and attention. She felt someone’s eyes at her back. She could tell as the eyes traced her skin. It was more or less like a physical caress. They were so powerful; she had this powerful urge to turn around and find their owner.

Collecting all the courage that was left in her, she turned around and was met with two familiar dark blue eyes. Suddenly, the memory of the incident that took place in the bar came raining down at her. Those eyes were the same ones that she had seen back in the bar. For a moment, she was startled before she had managed to tear her attention away from the eyes and concentrate on its owner.

The owner of those eyes happened to be the same blond wolf born whom she had seen in the bar. He looked like an angel, sitting on a chair by the other side of the bed. His eyes were trained on her solely. They held her captive and for a moment, she was again lost in the blueness of them.

Suddenly, it struck her – he had called her by her name. How did he know her name? She wanted to ask him but she didn’t because, at the moment, it seemed to be the most unimportant question while the most important stood to be – what was she doing there?

Suddenly, she noticed that among other emotions, lust swam in his eyes before her eyes had trailed down to find the top buttons of his shirt open to give a peek at his muscled chest. As soon as her observations aligned with the fact of her being on a bed that could possibly be his, a shiver ran down her spine.

He caught her to take advantage of her?

She gulped silently. The cognitive part of her mind was quick to busy itself by thinking of ways to escape that place. Meanwhile, she silently sat on the bed and stared back at the man in the room, waiting for him to act first.

The silence between them continued to grow louder and louder. Her mind was starving for answers and so she ended up breaking the silence by asking, “Where am I?” Her voice came out firm and famine. She did not have any idea how it stirred the wolf inside the man sitting in front of her.

“You’re in Zaeris,” His deep voice rumbled. It was the manliest voice she had ever heard. It had the butterflies in her stomach flipping their wings angrily. She clutched the duvet in her hand hard as she asked next, “Who are you?”

He gave her a prolonged look before answering her question, “Haestus,”

As soon as that name registered in her brain, her blood ran cold.

She had heard that name before.

She was well familiar with that name but she had never thought there’d be a day like such when she’d meet the person who was called by that name.

The man sitting in front of her was Arles’ second in command. The most powerful wolf after Arles. She had heard enough bad stories about him to have adrenaline rushing through her veins as fear infected her.

He smelled the fear in her instantly and it was the last thing he wanted her to feel for him. He was well aware of the fear as well its source but he was so startled by her beauty that he had forgotten to both act and think reasonably. He was finding it hard to believe that she was, in fact, sitting in front of him. He had worked hard for her and had left no stone unturned to get her.

Forced visions, praying to the moon goddess, searching for her day and night… there wasn’t anything left that he hadn’t done just to have her there.

“Why am I here?” She asked. Both her voice and body quivered as her mind came up with the possible answers to her own question. To say that she was terrified would be an understatement. But what perplexed her was the attraction she felt for him. Maybe, it was because he was beautiful than all the men she had ever laid eyes on.

Her fear had her slowly edging the corner of the bed while the lust inside her screamed at her to do the opposite. As much as she wanted to put a big distance between her, she also wanted to know how it would feel to be in his arms and get a taste of him.

His eyes were quick enough to notice her moving away from him. It neither pleased him or his wolf. A very low and guttural growl rumbled from his chest in the disapproval of her actions.

“You’re my mate,” His voice came out deeper and animalistic than before which did not help the situation with her. It made her leap from the bed and step back, putting more distance between them.

His voice had fairly scared Orabelle and for a moment she was grateful for it because it had overpowered the lust in her. The cognitive part of her mind would be able to work without suffering from the rust of lust.

Her sudden leap from the bed had him raising from the chair too. His eyes had considerably darkened. It only made her step back until her back was touching the huge window. The oversized shirt almost slid down from her body and gave a glance at the bosom she was blessed with. The sleeves were hanging loose while the oversized trouser drooled over her toes and made walking slightly difficult.

“Orabelle,” His voice came out low and calm this time but it had an edge to it that didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette.

“How do you know my name and why am I here?” She demanded as her mind started to think of the best spells to knock off the man in front of her.

“I know everything,” He answered as he slowly stepped away from the bed and moved towards her. His answer and action did nothing but scare her.

“Where’s Kiara?” She croaked as she straightened up to face him fully. She was finding courage at the unexpected corner of her mind. Her question stopped him in midway while he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Who?

“The other witch with me. You were hunting us, right?” She breathed as she slowly fisted her hands and tipped her chin. He continued to look at her in puzzlement but the latter part of her question had him shaking his head at her.

“I don’t know who is Kiara and I wasn’t participating in any witch-hunting.” He spoke clearly. He had managed to calm himself by now but still, his wolf was very unpleased with the distance that sat between them but he knew he had to hold himself back. He didn’t want to do anything that would send her any wrong messages.

He gave her a prolonged look which had the lust sneaking its way back into her. She had the impression that if he looked at her longer with that look in his eyes then she’d melt. He sighed before offering, “Why don’t you eat something while we talk. You’ve been out for quite some time…” He trailed off as he covered the distance between them.

She had her back firmly pressed against the window glass when he stepped close to her. She had to crane her head back a bit to have a better look at his face because his figure towered over hers. By now, she had her nails digging into her palm.

“It seems like your disarming spell backfired in the alley. You look weak now,” He mused as he reached for her hand without her notice. His comment had all the blood rushing to her cheek as she threw him a glare. She was offended at how right he was about the spell and also, the fact that he happened to be the first man who had called her anything else other than beautiful. It had somehow wounded her ego. Meanwhile, he turned her glare with a grin before taking her hand.

As soon as his skin made contact with hers, sparks shot up. It made her gasp out loud and she was about to jump back hadn’t the window restricted her. He was quick to hold her hand and pull her closer before she could lose her balance and fall. The suddenness of the tug had her stumbling and falling onto him but he was quick and glad to welcome her in his huge arms. It was all he wanted.

“Uh,” The sound slipped past her lips when the proximity of their closeness had suddenly dawned upon her. Her hands rested on his chest while he was leaned forward. Their lips were inches apart.

From this close, she could see the blueness of his eyes clearly. They simply pulled her towards him. Her heat had sped up and the butterflies in her stomach grew aggressive as they fluttered their wings.

Haestus got a strong whiff of her intoxicating scent and at that moment, he and his wolf decided to suspend all the reasoning that the cognitive part of their brain could offer before he growled, “Mine,” and leaned in to capture her soft lips.