The Beast's Virgin Claim

"He is here to take you to his pack, Theia." Cronus declares quietly from my side as I am sharply dragged out of my trance to be jostled into the inhumane reality. I recoil backwards from Phobos's touch my eyes shifting to regard my brother.

"When?" I question aloud for all wolves to hear and understand my calamity.

"Now," Cronus utters and for the first time, I find sadness lingering in his eyes.

"No," I whisper with a slow shake of my head. "Cronus I-I do not want to go with him."

Phobos coolly watches me without a variation in emotions or behaviours, an aplomb male he truly is. The two wolves that stand at his sides as faithful warriors do the same as him but I perceive the delight they upheld slipping to disappointment at my words.

"This is her answer, Phobos. It is as I told you. I will do as she wishes, I will stand by her. Whatever it takes." No, this is not childhood friends addressing each other but two Alpha males lounging at the edge of war.

My moon blessed does not take his perverted eyes off me for even a second, his attention meant only for me to bask in and no other wolf he finds worthy to behold it. Not even Cronus.

I stay withdrawn waiting for his retort but Phobos merely reaches forward to seize my wrist as a measure to perhaps coerce me or he purely needed to touch me but I wince and move away from his warmth. When I was eighteen, he made a choice. Now I shall make mine.

"Send him back, Cronus. It is too late to claim me, my yearning for him has ceased." I hold in my sentiments that wish to spill deceiving my male painstakingly as I reminisce the suffering his words and choices brought me.

I abjectly peer behind me to greet the expecting eyes of Ismena, Zina, Orien and Aegeus, the wolves who have stood by me last few years wait by the front door with fermentation and I beam at them to ease their tumultuousness.

This is my home, not Phobos. I am happy here.

With a bloody lingering glance of parting at my moon blessed who seems unshaken by my truth, I march towards my friends. It is truly agonising to walk away from your mate, I would wish this on no female to undergo.

"Oh, sweetheart," Ismena whispers to me whilst the four of them considerately escort me inside the packhouse away from the shrewd male. This is truly the end for us, I have forsaken him just like he did. Yet why is it so gut-wrenching? It feels as though my heart is shredding into two in a way that cannot be stitched back.

"Are you all right, Theia?" Aegeus questions faintly patting my head with benignity. Aegeus regularly told me I am his second sister and that he shall always forfend and cherish me as his family.

"No, I am not all right," I whine as he hauls me into a warm hug with a soft sigh. They understand my feelings, my overpowering emotions. They do not condemn my verdict.

"The sun always rises after every storm, Theia and so shall you. Your choices are yours alone, no wolf shall rebuke you for them." He soothes my pain whilst I grip onto his shirt for dear life. This is difficult. More arduous than I speculated it would be.

An ear-piercing scream tears out of Ismena's and Zina's mouths whilst I shriek at the disturbing way Aegeus is ripped away from my flesh. Phobos holds him up against the wall by the scruff of his neck, my male's fierce hand pulverising the wolf's throat little by little whilst Aegeus fights to breathe clawing at my mate's wrist his eyes rapidly rolling back as he enters into a state of unconsciousness.

Phobos overpowers Aegeus with ease as though he finds him to be asthenic and insignificant. Orien snarls lowly in his war stance, his lips pulled back displaying his honed canines as he darts forward with a vengeance claws out preparing to strike him but is readily captured and tackled at an indefinable speed by the two males who follow Phobos like his shadows. How can they conquer our topmost warrior and hunter with such efficiency?

"Orien!" Ismena screeches in despair for her male who is being battered bloody by the two wolves as he battles to subjugate them. Zina is in shock as she surrenders to the horror of her mind viewing the scenes unwind in front of her.

"What are you doing, Phobos?" I draw on his hand that chokes Aegeus endeavouring to obstruct his doing yet my struggle is inadequate to his nature. "Stop it! Stop it all of you."

The two shadows of Phobos instantly halt their actions letting a fiercely haemorrhaging Orien free as Ismena runs to embrace him weeping for what they had done to him.

"Phobos, he is my friend! Do not kill him, please." I implore pushing at his chest my heart submerging in misery as Aegeus is dying. Phobos ultimately peers down at me heeding to my troubled cry examining my tear smeared cheeks whilst I grieve with exhaustion.

He lets go of his throat whilst Aegeus collapses to the ground, senseless. "Aegeus!"

Quickly kneeling to the cold floor, I set my quivering hand upon his cheek with relief for his chest moves, he breathes. Yet Phobos does not let me attend to him drawing me up by my tender wrist with a wrath dragging me to my room that he remembers with precision.

His grip is delicate but I sense his birse that seethes underneath, the anger of what I am unable to define. Eyes take in the essence of my chamber scanning through every nook and corner, it has evolved quite a lot for he had been here when I was merely ten.

Extracting my wrist from his grasp I scowl up at him my chest heaving with my temper as he turns to heed me. "Why? Why would you hurt my friends? Why would you come here after all these years? Did you not find me undeserving?"

There is a slight tilt of his head as though he does not follow my outburst, as though he cannot grasp emotions. He takes a devout step forward towards me as I take a stumbling one backwards, a chase has blossomed between us. Predator and prey.

He chases me unyielding until my back collides with the table, and I hold no room to flee from his emerging raw heat. He finally pulls down his hood baring his face to me as my eyes broaden with marvel as I engrave the outline of the features he beholds.

The juvenile attributes I remember distinctly has been succeeded by one of a full adult male. Ocean eyes seem to pierce deeper as he observes me, the scar I recollect from last night unveiling itself boastfully to me.

The frame of his lips is divine, pink and plump big enough to devour mine in one bite. His darkish blonde hair cut short that rests at the top of his head, the sides cleanly shaved. He possesses a thick uncut stubble that makes him feral and savage. He is the definition of rugged and I am mesmerized by him. All of him.

Phobos's buff ripped arms spring forward to settle upon the table on either of my sides imprisoning my flesh in between as he inclines forward filling in the space between us. His eyes sink into mine as though this is all wishes for, just to look. Just to ravish. My fingers grip onto the wood tighter for support, he makes me debilitated and he is aware of it.

The succulent scent that trickles down erotically from each of his pores to the fever of his breath that fondles my flushed cheek has me enchanted beneath his smutty spell. What did I desire to say to him? What did I even utter a few seconds ago?

His forefinger lifts my chin with a crude thirst whilst the pad of his thumb descends softly upon my lower lip pulling it down with a sultry slowness. His globes take in everything with enormous greed, from the way my lip twitches back into place to the way my voluptuous breasts heave beneath my flimsy gown.

His eyes immure me with an assertiveness consistent and stern he watches me like a vulture, as he leans forward towards my flesh with an immoral purpose. He knows his way with me for he is able to witness my emotions bare for him to luxuriate in.

Lips near me, my heart and mind at war. To taste him, to be kissed by him. It is all I fantasised of yet at this moment, my mind fights it for the barbarity he showed my friends. Whilst his face shifts to the side angling himself to settle his lips upon mine, I swiftly turn my head away from his emerging mouth breathing achingly.

He halts, the hotness of his breath stroking the side of my lips which throb and quiver to his antics. The tip of his thumb brushes past the flesh of my hip concealed beneath my gown, a mere touch from him, a mere look has me on my knees submitting to his maleness. A consuming compulsion to explore his female corners him, a desperate demand he finds himself losing to.

"Krl. Jsme tu, abychom zabalili Luniny vci, jak jste ns nasmrovali." One of the males that came with him barges in with his words, head bowed low he awaits with several others whom I did not notice before. Phobos watches me goggle them and all he does is offer them a brusque nod of acknowledgement to the male's words. What did he say to him? Why are they here in my room?

(King. We are here to pack Luna's things as you directed us to.)

I lower observing all these wolves who barge into my room carrying petite cartons their eyes skimming through all that I possess as though checking for its value to be inserted in those boxes.

"What are they doing? Stop. W-Where are you taking my things?" I utter my voice high pitched portraying my stress to what unfolds in front of my eyes.

I try to disentangle myself from his arms that prison me, yet he holds onto that table tighter not permitting me to move constraining me to stand still whilst my displeased orbs follow their movements captiously.