Ariana's hands clutched her chest as Zavren's lips curled into a sinful grin. He stopped just in front of her, lifting her chin slowly with his thumb, his grey eyes locking onto hers.
"Your hazel eyes remind me of hazelnuts," he murmured, voice low and intense. "I despise them… only because I'm obsessed with them."
Ariana's lips trembled slightly as she met his gaze, unable to look away.
"You don't have to look at me with such fear, Snowflake," he whispered, leaning closer. "If you want me to bathe you, just say the word."
Her lips parted, then closed again—lost for words.
"Or…" he added, voice laced with temptation, "do you want me to undress you?"
His lips twitched higher as he waited for her response.
Ariana's back pressed against the wall as she shook her head, her breath catching.
"You don't have to worry," Zavren murmured, voice low and dangerous. "I've already seen all of you… touched you, stroked you, f*cked you." He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "So what's left? So much more…"
Ariana's face turned scarlet at his shameless words. Zavren's hand slid behind her neck, tilting her head up. Her eyes widened as her heart pounded—his large, calloused hand now touching her bare skin.
Then he moved—his lips brushing against her throat before latching onto it. His hot, wet tongue circled her slender neck, leaving a trail of heat behind. She bit her lip, stifling a gasp that escaped anyway.
Her body tingled with sweet desire.
Zavren's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he pulled away.
"You're yearning for my touch, aren't you?" he whispered darkly. "Don't lie to your heart."
His hand slid up to her throat, fingers wrapping gently but firmly around it. He used his thumb to guide her chin back up, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"You were desperate for me that night," he growled.
Ariana finally pulled away, trembling. Zavren ran a hand through his hair, his expression shifting—darker now.
"Don't make me repeat myself," he warned, his voice cold, sharp.
His gaze turned deadly.
"Be a good girl and strip… or be a naughty whore—and I'll do it myself."
Ariana bit her lip, trying to hold herself together. Just as Zavren stepped closer toward her, a tear slipped down her cheek.
He halted.
His hand, midair, hovered for a second longer. His cold expression faltered—just barely—his pupils dilated, a flicker of something crossing his face.
He scoffed softly, as if speaking more to himself than to her.
"Suit yourself," he muttered, voice stripped of its earlier heat.
Then, without another glance, he turned and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him.
Ariana's legs trembled as silence reclaimed the room. She hadn't expected him to leave. Not like that.
She lowered herself slowly to the floor, pressing both hands to her chest, feeling how fast her heart was beating. A silent sob escaped her parted lips—no sound came, only the trembling of her shoulders.
I..I need to leave, she thought. I can't stay here. Not with him.
This man… this cold, unreadable man… was unlike anyone she'd ever met.
She had stepped into the devil's den.
No wonder he warned her that night—he said he would hunt her down, but she ran, believing they would never meet again.
And now, she had to find a way out—before she lost herself completely.
*
*
Ariana sat alone in the grand dining hall. The only sound echoing through the space was the soft clinking of her cutlery against the porcelain plate. Zavren was absent, and for once, she felt a small wave of relief. At least she could eat without his piercing gaze on her. Even with the maids standing silently along the walls, it was far less intimidating than when that Alpha was in the room.
She bit her lip unconsciously as her heart began to race—just the thought of him sent a chill down her spine.
'Thank heavens he left earlier…' she thought, her fingers tightening around her fork. 'If he had made me s..strip… I don't know what I would have done.'
She wore a light blue floral dress—so much lighter than the heavy gown she wore yesterday. Her golden-blonde hair was left loose, cascading in soft waves down her back. A faint, rare smile tugged at her lips as she gazed at the roasted chicken on her plate. She picked it up with her fingers and took a sweet bite, sinking into the chair as her eyes fluttered closed.
'So good… wow, the food is amazing,' she thought to herself, savoring the taste.
She lifted her fingers to her lips, licking them softly as she stuck out her tongue to lick her lips. She sank lower in her chair.
"At least use the cutlery."
The voice cut through her peace like ice.
Ariana's eyes flew open as she straightened, her breath hitching. Zavren stood at the doorway, his cold gaze fixed on her hands.
She had been so caught up in the food, she hadn't realized she'd dropped all etiquette and was eating with her hands.
Without a word, he walked over and sat down, raising a hand. Ariana turned in time to see the maids quietly bow and leave the room.
Her body tensed.
"Calm down. I don't bite," Zavren said smoothly, spearing a piece of meat with his fork and bringing it to his lips.
"At least… not all the time," he added with a dark smirk.
Ariana bit her lip again, watching him chew. The way his mouth moved, the deliberate rhythm of his swallowing, the bob of his Adam's apple—it was all too much.
Proud, shameless, annoying man, she thought bitterly.
Zavren's lips curled up, his eyes glinting with amusement—as if he'd heard her.
Her heart dropped. Her appetite vanished. His suffocating presence was too much. She couldn't stay here any longer.
Then he moved again, placing a piece of meat on her plate.
"Eat more," he said calmly. "You'll need the strength… for the delivery."
Ariana froze.
'He… he knows about the pregnancy…'
Zavren's eyes didn't leave hers.
"The little one you're carrying is mine, so I would not want my child malnourished. The earlier, the better."
That alone was enough to confirm what she feared. Not that she had gone anywhere—not that anyone else could have touched her—but still, hearing it made everything feel more real. More terrifying.
What do you want from me? she thought, panic rising.
"So naïve," he murmured under his breath, picking up another bite of meat.
Her body trembled slightly.
Can he… hear my thoughts?
She couldn't breathe. She needed to leave. Now.
Grabbing the red kerchief beside her, she softly wiped her lips, stood up without a sound, and turned to go. Her legs felt unsteady, her mind spinning.
She needed air.
Just as Ariana moved, Zavren's voice sliced clean through the silence.
"Sit back down."
His cold gaze locked on her, freezing her in place. Her legs trembled, but she shook her head.
"Stubborn, huh?" His tone dropped, wickedly low. "Don't make me repeat myself. Sit."
She took a hesitant step back, but before she could turn, Zavren's hand shot out and caught her wrist, tugging her toward him with ease.
He shifted his chair back, and in one smooth motion, Ariana stumbled and fell into his lap. A forced breath escaped her parted lips, her heart slamming against her chest. His large hands rested firmly on her waist, holding her in place. Shivers raced down her spine.
Her lips quivered. Her eyes burned.
Zavren's mouth curved into a slow, sinful smile.
"You have the sweetest scent… of fear," he whispered, almost reverently.
He leaned forward, pressing her back against his chest. His breath fanned her neck as his face lowered to the crook of it, his nose grazing her skin. He inhaled deeply—slowly.
Ariana's body shuddered.
She stiffened as his lips brushed over her earlobe—softly, deliberately. He gave it a gentle bite, just enough to make her flinch.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
Why does it always do this… Why does it always beat so fast around him?
"You smell lovely, Snowflake," he murmured.
His voice dropped into a silky rasp as he rested his chin on his knuckle, still gazing at her like a king surveying his trembling prize.
Ariana's eyes stayed downcast. Her fists curled tightly around the fabric of her dress.
His scent wrapped around her—intoxicating and maddeningly perfect.
"Eyes on me," Zavren commanded.
One of his hands reached up, brushing the tips of her golden strands, playing with a lock of her hair like a precious thread only he could feel.
Ariana bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Slowly, unwillingly, she raised her gaze to meet his.
Her eyes widened as he moved his thumb, pushing into her lips. As he opened her mouth, he brushed his thumb against the blood and moved it to his lips, licking it like some forbidden drink. He circled his tongue around his thumb, his eyes drinking in her expression.
"You taste sweet," he whispered darkly.
Ariana stared at him in shock.
'I hate you,' she screamed inwardly.
Zavren's eyes widened—just slightly. A flicker of something unreadable passed through them as he stiffened.
C..Could he…
Could he really hear her thoughts?