Chapter 21
Twenty – One
LISA POV
I tried to sleep and managed an hour of restless half–consciousness before giving up. I lay in the dark staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence of the mansion and waiting for news about Evangeline. Someone should have told me something by now. Whether she was stable. Whether Cameron had stayed at the hospital. Whether tonight was over.
But the hallway outside my room stayed quiet.
I lay there wondering if the universe had granted me a reprieve.
Then an engine rumbled outside.
A car door slammed.
I pushed myself upright before I fully understood why my heart had started racing. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and moved down the hallway toward my room.
My hand found the lamp on the nightstand. The light snapped on just as the doorknob turned.
Cameron stepped into the doorway.
I sat there staring at him.
I had already convinced myself he wouldn’t return tonight. I thought he would stay at the hospital with his mate. I didn’t know what it meant that he was here.
He stepped inside and closed the door.
In one hand he carried a crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid. In the other, a lit cigar that trailed a ribbon of smoke behind him.
I stayed where I was on the bed and watched him.
He crossed the room without looking at me and set the glass on the dresser. He took a long pull from the cigar, exhaled toward the ceiling, then crushed the ember into an ashtray I hadn’t noticed on the dresser.
The room smelled like smoke and whiskey.
I swallowed.
“How is Lady Evangeline p>
He lifted the glass again, drained what remained of the whiskey, and set the empty tumbler down with a dull knock against the wood.
“She’s alive,” he said.
The words carried no relief.
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1
Twenty One
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“Take off your clothes p>
No preamble. No question.
Just an order.
I nodded and lay back on the bed. My hands moved without thinking as I pulled the oversized T -shirt over my head. I had put it on after the first attempt ended with sirens and shouting.
Then the underwear.
I didn’t wait for him to tell me what came next.
I reached between my legs and touched myself quickly, creating enough moisture to make what followed easier. When I finished, I spread my legs and rested my hands on the mattress.
The room stayed silent.
I heard the sound of his zipper.
I closed my eyes.
It was easier that way. Easier not to see his face. Easier to pretend this wasn’t happening in a quiet bedroom with a man who would rather be anywhere else.
The mattress dipped as he climbed onto the bed.
His hands settled on my thighs and pushed them wider.
Then he positioned himself at my entrance and pushed.
Pain tore through me, sharp and sudden.
Air left my lungs in a broken gasp and my body lacked against the mattress.
He stopped.
I didn’t know why.
Mercy.
Annoyance,
Maybe both.
I opened my eyes.
His face hovered above mine. The smell of whiskey lingered on his breath along with smoke from the cigar. His expression looked tight, strained, like he was forcing himself through something he hated.
He muttered something under his breath.
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Then he started to pull back.
“Please p>
The word left me before I thought about it.
“Please just… go on p>
I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t want this dragged out through another night of waiting and dread.
I wanted it finished.
He studied my face, then pushed deeper.
Pain flared again as my body stretched around him. I bit down hard on my lip and tasted blood.
He sank fully inside me and stopped again.
His weight pressed me into the mattress. I could feel every inch of him, foreign and overwhelming, forcing my body open in ways it had never been before.
Then he started moving.
The motion began slowly. Each push shifted the pain, dulling the sharp edge until it settled into a heavy pressure my body tried to adjust to.
I closed my eyes again.
The world narrowed to sensation.
His breath against my neck.
The steady rhythm of his hips. The mechanical way he moved, like he was pushing through something he didn’t want to feel.
The pace quickened. The bed creaked softly beneath us. I heard him grit his teeth. He was holding himself back from something.
The rhythm grew rougher as time blurred. Then heat flooded inside me as he finished.
His body tensed and stilled. I felt him stop himself from doing something more.
The knot.
I had read about it. Lycan males tied with their partners during mating. Their bodies locked together until the bond settled.
But Cameron didn’t allow it. He pulled out almost immediately.
The sudden emptiness felt strange after the pressure. I lay there staring at the ceiling while warmth spread between my legs.
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Tum/tv–ne
He had already moved away. I heard tissues pull from the box on the nightstand. A few seconds later something landed in the trash bin.
The door opened and slammed shut hard enough to rattle the frame.
He sounded angrier leaving than he had when he arrived.
I stayed where I was.
The room smelled like proof of what had just happened.
After a while I forced myself to sit up. My legs trembled when I stood and I had to catch the doorframe to keep from falling as I walked to the bathroom.
I turned on the shower and stepped under the spray before the water warmed. Steam began filling the room while the temperature climbed, but I didn’t touch the handle. I scrubbed between my legs, trying to wash away the feeling of him inside me.
I sat down on the shower floor while the water poured over me.
Then I broke.
The sobs tore out of me without restraint and echoed against the tile.
I had done it. I had spread my legs for a man who didn’t want me and let him use my body for money.
I scrubbed my
skin until it burned. The water eventually turned cold, but I stayed there shaking until the sobs ran out and left me hollow
When I finally climbed out, I could barely stand. I pulled on clean pajamas and collapsed onto the bed.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Sasha.
I stared at her name while the phone vibrated across the wood.
I couldn’t answer.
The call stopped and a message appeared.
Sasha: Are you okay? Please answer me.
I set the phone face down.
Another notification chimed.
I picked it up again.
Bank Alert: 50,000 tokens deposited to your
I stared at the screen.
The first payment.
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Proof that the contract had begun.
My stomach turned.
My fingers opened the banking app and transferred the entire amount to my mother’s account.
The balance vanished from my screen. She would see it in the morning. I told myself that was the point.
The money was for Mom, James, and our survival
I wasn’t a whore.
I was doing what I had to do.
But the thought collapsed under its own weight.
I had spread my legs for money.
I set the phone aside, pulled the blanket over my head, and cried until there was nothing left.
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.