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Mate of the Lycan 😱😱

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#Chapter 1

The Lair of Cohen

"Open your eyes, Naomi! Come on, you have to wake up!" The weight on my eyelids felt unbearable, as though the world itself was pressing down on me. I groaned, my head throbbing with pain. It took all my strength to lift my heavy lids, revealing a scene of darkness and confusion. I could feel the bruises forming on my body, evidence of the brutal force that had brought me to this place.

Confusion clouded my thoughts as I struggled to form words. My tongue felt thick and sluggish, matching the heaviness in my eyes. Pain shot through my cheek, a reminder of the slap that had awakened me from my nightmare. Adrenaline surged through my veins, urging me to fight, to flee.

A girl stood beside me, her grip tight on my arms. She shook her head, a silent warning for me to stay still. Her voice was a hushed whisper, barely audible amidst the chaos. "We're in Cohen's Lair. We've been brought here as offerings. Don't make trouble, or they might kill you before you even get a chance to see him."

"Cohen?" I stammered, fear gripping my heart. The name sent shivers down my spine, a foreboding warning of the horrors that awaited me.

The girl nodded, her eyes wide with desperation. "I'm Joanna. My parents saved me to offer to him. I hope he chooses me. If I become his Luna, my family will be elevated to the Alpha House. It's a position of power and privilege. I'm the first Snow White our lineage has seen in generations."

A Snow White—a werewolf female with pure white fur. The epitome of strength, beauty, and desirability for wolves seeking a mate. I glanced down at the tattered wedding dress I wore, a far cry from the pristine image of Snow White. But it was all I had left, a symbol of the life I had been torn away from.

Suppressing the panic rising within me, I pushed down the voluminous skirt and shuffled to sit beside Joanna. Our wrists were bound with zip ties, our ankles secured with thick ropes. A glance along the row revealed that we were not alone. Women, like us, were trussed up, their fates intertwined as virgin sacrifices for the last Lycan.Anxiety coursed through my veins, heightening my senses as I pondered the impending doom that awaited me. The tales surrounding Alpha Cohen, the last Lycan and sole heir to the Alpha King Mason, were etched in my mind like scars. They dubbed him 'Cohen' due to his untamed nature, a ferocious beast within. Whispers carried the rumors that only the touch of a virgin wolf under the full moon could quell his inner demons. Every pack sent their virgins as sacrificial offerings, hoping to tame him. But he turned them all away, callously and violently. Some were driven mad by his rejection. What unspeakable horrors did he inflict upon them with just a mere denial?

In an attempt to divert my panic, I initiated a hushed conversation with Joanna. "Your parents sent you as tribute? Are you from Lone Wolf?" I inquired, desperately seeking solace in our exchange.

Her response was laced with pride for her pack. "Yes, I am. And what pack do you hail from? I haven't seen you before," she inquired, her question tinged with a hint of jealousy.

Suppressing a frown, I wondered why she would envy me. Did she not know the atrocities attributed to Cohen? Did she believe I had willingly offered myself? Did she think I stood a chance against the countless other virgin wolves who had come before me?

"I belong to the Fiery Cross Pack. My father, Alpha Henry, leads us. As a Tiger Lily, I don't often venture beyond our territory," I explained. My coat, reminiscent of the wild princess Tiger Lily who yearned for Peter Pan's affection, boasted a fusion of three distinct colors. My family had hoped for a better fate for me, but my initial transformation had shattered my father's heart.

Joanna seemed to relax slightly upon learning about my mixed coat. In her eyes, I was already less desirable.

As I tested the strength of the zip ties binding my wrists, a realization dawned upon me—I could only break free by shifting. Attempting to loosen the rope coiled around my ankles, my feeble fingers struggled to untie the knots. Helplessness consumed me, much like the other women lining the hallway leading to Cohen's lair.

Surprisingly, the imposing wooden door stood solid and unyielding. I had expected it to be in ruins, for I had heard that Cohen was kept chained within his chambers. He was rumored to unleash his wrath upon some of the virgins offered to him.He couldn't possibly unleash his violent tendencies behind such an exquisite door, could he? Joanna's plea for an explanation echoed in my ears, tugging at the frayed edges of my resolve. Reluctantly, I realized that recounting my capture to her might not be as detrimental as I had initially feared.

"I made a terrible mistake," I began, my voice laced with remorse. "I ventured into a bar alone, seeking solace in the numbing embrace of alcohol. In my confusion, a group of soldiers stumbled upon me. Their crude inquiries about my virtue were met with my naïve affirmation. Laughter erupted, mocking my innocence, and before I could retaliate, a blow struck me. Darkness descended, and when I regained consciousness, I found myself in this wretched place. You were the one who shook me awake, Joanna. That's the whole story."

A faint smile played at Joanna's lips as she probed further. "Except for the part about why you were donning a wedding dress in a desolate bar."

I shrugged, evading her gaze. The truth, too humiliating to confront amidst our dire circumstances, remained cloaked in silence. Some secrets were better left unsaid, even when survival was at stake.

Without warning, the door swung open, and a terrified she-wolf was thrust inside. Within seconds, she scampered back out, fleeing as if pursued by the hounds of Hell. The pattern repeated itself, each woman rejected or expelled within minutes. Tears, incoherent babbling, and desperate screams reverberated through the air, marking their futile attempts to appease Cohen's inscrutable desires.

As my turn approached, anxiety coursed through my veins, while Joanna exuded an unwavering confidence. I had expected her to fare better, but her entrance into the room was abruptly halted by a thunderous roar. She was unceremoniously flung out, landing in a crumpled heap at my feet. Her arm twisted at an unnatural angle as she struggled to regain her footing. I yearned to rush to her side, but before I could act, I was propelled through the door, thrust into the heart of Cohen's Lair.

A chill wind nipped at my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The room, shrouded in darkness, offered little visibility even to my heightened werewolf senses. The clinking of chains reached my ears, a reminder of Cohen's perpetual confinement, his uncontrollable rages tamed only by restraints. My trembling intensified, consuming me entirely.

"Hello?" I whispered hesitantly, unsure if engaging in conversation with him would hasten my expulsion or invite a more forceful ejection.

To my surprise, Cohen responded, his voice a velvety baritone that stirred a different kind of tremor within me. "Hello."

Taking cautious steps forward, I found myself ensnared in his powerful embrace, his formidable arms enveloping me with an intensity that both terrified and intrigued.The scent of the untamed forest mingled with sandalwood, filling my senses and rendering me powerless in Cohen's embrace. Instead of struggling against his hold, I surrendered to the intoxicating allure of his touch.

His large hands traversed my body with a possessive urgency, caressing my breasts through the fabric of my gown before gliding down to explore the contours of my waist and hips. Never had I been so acutely aware of my own form as I was in that moment, with Cohen unraveling my shape beneath the layers of my wedding dress. What would it feel like to have his hands on my bare skin?

A mixture of fear and desire surged through me, an unfamiliar blend of emotions that left me uncertain whether to scream or surrender myself completely to Cohen's advances. He effortlessly spun me around, causing my head to tilt to the side as his lips found the sensitive spot at the base of my neck, leaving a scorching imprint.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling with an inexplicable agreement. I couldn't fully comprehend the significance of what I was consenting to, but there was an undeniable pull, an unspoken connection that made this encounter with the enigmatic Cohen feel like the culmination of a lifetime.

Cohen's presence loomed behind me, a solid wall of masculine strength. Even through the barrier of my wedding dress, his searing heat seeped into my skin, while his breath danced across the shell of my ear, setting my senses ablaze. "Mate..." he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

If Cohen was the last of his kind, I feared that damnation itself would be preferable.

I had been sheltered, kept chaste and untouched by any male presence. But now, his scent enveloped me, as suffocating as his arms, and his lips scorched my pulsating pulse point at the base of my throat. My heart skipped a beat, while my body responded with a surge of heat that mirrored the primal desire coursing through the Lycan.

Never before had I felt such an intense heat, such vibrant vitality, such acute awareness of my own skin. His hands traced the contours of my dress once more, eliciting a moan as his warm palms cupped my breasts, causing the satin fabric to graze against my hardened nipples.

I yearned for him to rip away my dress, to touch my bare flesh, to consume me wholly.

He pressed his body against mine, provoking another moan from deep within, even though the layers of my gown prevented me from fully experiencing the contact I craved. Never had I desired to touch a man with the same wild abandon as I did in that moment.

Desperation propelled me to reach behind me, my fingers curling into claws as I dug them into his hips, urging him closer. But in an abrupt motion, he pushed me away with a forceful shove, propelling me towards the door, leaving me stunned and disoriented.

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