Questionable attraction

Raven's POV

I grimace as my bandaged thigh receives a pat from who I believe is one of the pack doctors.

“In a few hours you should feel brand new.” the middle-aged man mutters before scribbling something on his file.

Saviour rises from his seat in the corner of what I suppose is my room. Although it looks more like an expensive jail to me.

“What caused this?” he asks with a frown as the doctor steadily closes his file.

“Well, Raven here seems to be fighting the shift. I could be wrong but I'll finalize my suspicions once I'm done with the test.” He rambles, adjusting his glasses.

“And what are your suspicions?” Saviour asks, striding closer. His hands are relaxed in his pocket, his eyes focused and hard.

Like every other time I've seen him, he's wearing a black T-shirt and even darker pants.

“Her blood, instead of surrendering the alpha mark, is fighting a complete change.”

I have no idea what the doctor means and I don't ponder on it either as my eyes stay longer on Saviour's shirt–

Because why would you allow your shirt to be that tight?

I mean, it looks just about ready to get ripped in two.

“You may leave.” At the sound of Saviour's dark tone, I sit up. Now very aware of my surrounding. Knowing exactly how vile werewolves can be, I brace myself for the worst.

The doctor bows briefly and heads out in obedience. And then it's just the two of us. I don't speak, watching him turn his gaze to me. With muscles as thick as his, he definitely can crush my head with an arm, but does that scare me?

Of course not.

His presence easily fills the room. “You survived,” he says with a dull expression as he saunters over. “How unfortunate.” He finishes with a disappointed tone.

The jerk!

Holding his gaze I respond, “What? Did I ruin your plans by not dying on your floor like a good little mutt? Are you scared everyone will see how their alpha failed in bringing the huntress to her knees.”

“Soon enough Pet. You'll be kneeling for me in more ways than one.” He smirks.

My hands form a tight fist as I jump off the bed, ignoring the pain that shoots up my leg. “Over my dead body.” I spit, hating the smug look on his face.

His eyes fall to my thighs, considering I'm only in the stupid mini gown those maids gave me, I must look like an unfortunate slut.

Just as quick, he looks back up at me. “If you were going to kill yourself, Raven, you should’ve aimed higher. Go for the artery. Straight to the heart. A hunter should know where to kill a wolf.”

“I’m not a wolf.” I snarl, my jaw painfully clenched. “I, am, not, a damn wolf. I'll rather die than become one of you heartless beasts.”

He tilts his head as his hands go back into his pockets. “Keep lying to yourself. It won’t change the way your biology shifted the moment I marked you. You are one of us whether you believe it or not.”

“I will never be one of you. Never!”

“You were given to me,” he continues, ignoring my rage. “And I don’t waste what’s mine.” he adds, sounding like harsh granite to me.

“You don’t own me.” I state fiercely, hating how my skin pickles in discomfort. I want out. I don't want to be in the same space as this vile beast.

He chuckles darkly, without a smile. “You wear my mark, Pet. You belong to me.”

My body shivers at his tone but I refuse to dwell on it, ignoring the way the mark on my neck burns when he takes a slow step closer.

“You have a lot to learn. You think you are bold but I will break you.” His eyes don't release mine as he steps even closer. “Bit by bit.” He continues, his tone matching the strong pace of my heartbeat. “Until you learn to say yes to my every command.”

Keeping every fear in me at bay, I meet his gaze without a flinch. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

He shakes his head. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Weakling!” I curse, feeling satisfied with how his face contorts in fury at that word. I limp closer, “When my father comes for me, when he breaks through your defense, I’ll rip out every single one of your throats. I’ll paint this cursed pack in your blood.”

Saviour's voice takes on a deadly tone, dark, calm, petrifying. “You’re still waiting for him?” He says it like he's in disbelief, like only a fool would hope for rescue in a situation as this.

“Even now. You think he’s coming?” he continues and my heart stutters.

Don't listen to what he says. He doesn't know them like you do.

Saviour leans in, “He left you. Ran like the coward that he is. Abandoned you to rot. Surely you must have figured by now that you weren’t worth the rescue.”

At that, something inside me snaps.

Maybe it's because I've thought those exact words… or how possible they are. But for whatever reason it hurts and I strike. Ignoring the burn in my thigh, I charge at the 6,3 beast before me.

Saviour barely allows me two steps before grabbing a hold of me and slamming my back into the cold wall with brutal force.

My eye bulge from the shock, the wind instantly knocked out of me.

“Let go of me you bas…”

His hand wraps wickedly around my throat, cutting off my words. It's not life-threatening but it's enough to fill my body with rage.

But just as quickly, confusion sets in. I swallow hard, freezing on the spot as I'm suddenly hyper-aware of his leg pressed between mine.

Suddenly my body insanely burns for a whole different reason.

“Know your place, Raven.” Saviour seethes.

I close my eyes… in pain? Fury? Pleasure?

Fuck, what the hell is going on. I can't possibly… I don't want this!

He presses harder against me and I hold in a groan. A tiny fraction of that sound slips out and ends up sounding like a whimper.

Saviour's gaze drops. He heard. I just know. The thought fills me with shame, wrath.

“You don’t hate me nearly as much as you think you do,” he murmurs darkly, his mouth far too close to mine.

“I do,” I growl, hating how my tone wavers.

What the hell! I do hate him… with my life.

Whatever dignity I'd be trying to scramble, crumbles the moment his fingers slip into my hair and yank back.

A cursed moan rips past my throat as I struggle against him, my chest rising against his.

I grimace as shame takes hold of my pride, caging it.

Saviour growls deep in his throat, his fingers tightening in my hair as his pupils dilate.

Don't touch me, you dog!

His lips part, and for the life of me, I can't tear my gaze away.