Viktor
The man turned, his movement was smooth, and his demeanor impossibly calm for someone who almost died, and just threatened to kill me.
He studied me for a moment before speaking, as if trying to get his voice to be more controlled than it already was. "I'm Louis Blackthorne, if you must know."
'If I must know?'
My ears pricked up instantly. I knew that name. Louis Blackthorne. The son of the most ruthless alpha anyone dared whisper about. The kind of alpha that even the strongest werewolves, vampires, and shifter clans avoided. The kind who ruled the darkness with a hand heavier than any mafia boss, though the gullible human authorities had labeled him one, which was an insult to the immense power he had.
The son who was rumored to be much worse than his father. Now, he was here, looking at me, acting like he was bigger than life, bigger than fear, and yet… studying me as though I were something new, something intriguing, a new toy.
My hands trembled slightly. "W-what… what did my father do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Louis tilted his head, a faint smile curving his lips. "That's not important."
"Not important?" I repeated, swallowing hard. "I at least deserve to know what he did, if you're going to… end me."
He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers crawling up my spine. "You're cute when you're scared," he said softly, almost teasingly.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my gaze back to him. "You know what?" I felt the courage slipping out, but I maintained my composure. "If you're gonna kill me… get it over with," I muttered, my voice shaking. "End my meaningless life and be done."
He raised an eyebrow, still smiling as he replied. "No."
A gasp escaped my lips. "W-what?"
"No," he repeated, in a way that was really audible, in case I didn't hear him the first time. I had a feeling he was a man that didn't like to repeat himself. Yet I had forced his hand.
"And why's that?"
He turned towards the door, then back at me with a frown. It wasn't intense, in fact, it was a flash. "Because… for the first time in forever, I've felt like mating."
My breath caught in my throat, the cool sensation from the dried sweat, wrapped itself around my skin. Mating. Did he just say what I thought I heard?
What did he mean by that?
He leaned slightly closer, his gaze locking with mine, and for a brief moment, the world narrowed down to just him, me, and the electricity humming between us. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. My mind screamed, but my body betrayed me, frozen under the weight of what he had just said.
For the first time since the bullet, since the blood, since all the chaos… I was terrified. But it wasn't just fear. It was something deeper. Something that rooted itself in the pit of my chest and refused to let go.
Louis Blackthorne… had made me feel seen.
And that scared me more than any threat ever could.
My hands trembled slightly as I tried to steady them on my knees. I wanted to speak, to demand answers, but the words caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat. My body was betraying me in ways I didn't fully understand, heat pooled in places it shouldn't, my stomach churned in fear, perhaps a little bit of disgust too, and yet a part of me… wanted him here.
"Just tell me if you're going to kill me now," I managed, when I took a break from my internal battle. "Or better still, don't tell me, just do it. But unlike you, I don't like pain, so can you make it swift and painless? Perhaps poison or—"
My rambling was interrupted by his faint cackle. I didn't know if I found that amusing or somewhat offensive. Here I was begging for my life and this man who was threatening to take it, showed no ounce of concern.
Louis tilted his head, watching me carefully, his expression stoic but holding a hint of amusement, like he could see everything I was feeling and found it… entertaining.
"Relax," he said, his voice soft now, barely above a whisper, but it made my pulse spike even faster. "I won't hurt you. Not yet."
"Not… yet?" I whispered, my own voice foreign to my ears. My knees shook, and I had to grip the edge of the counter just to keep from falling forward. "Then why, why are you here?"
He stepped closer, slow enough that every movement felt deliberate, like he was measuring me, testing me. My breath hitched as I realized I couldn't take my eyes off him.
"I told you already!" There was impatience laced in his tone. But that didn't throw me off.
"You said you won't kill me yet—"
"Yes," he cut in.
"Then what does that have to do with you wanting to mate?" I was sure by now I wore my confusion like an armor.
He came closer, almost making the gap between us disappear. "It's simple Viktor." The sound of my name on his lips left a tingling ache in my chest. "Because," he continued, and his lips curved into that impossible smile again, "for the first time in forever… you make me feel like mating."
The word hit me again, and I felt my breath seize as the realization dawned on me.
He meant…
Did he mean?
My throat tightened, my stomach fluttered, and I could barely form coherent thoughts. No! It wasn't safe to assume anything.
He was Louis Blackthorne. He had walked into enemy's territory and according to him, he wanted to kill me.
So, this must be a game of his, make me suffer then kill me when I'm at my lowest, I won't give him that.
I tried to shove my panic aside. "Then… mate," I said, forcing the words out. "If you're going to do so, then why waste time? You said you haven't done it in years."
I could feel my ignorance wafting through the air, but it barely bothered me, not when it seemed like it could save my life.
He laughed softly, that menacing sound again. And I shivered as he said "no."
My heart stuttered. "What do you mean… no?"
He leaned even closer, his presence pressing against me in a way that made my knees threaten to buckle. "What I said is true, for the first time in forever… I want to mate," he paused like the words sounded foreign to him. "With you. But not here." He said, gesturing to the place around us.
I felt heat crawl up my neck. My hands shook, my breath caught, and I couldn't look away. That single word 'you' made me want, made everything inside me both tense and wild. Fear, confusion, desire, despair, all twisted together.
Not only did he look like sin, but he felt like sin too.
I didn't know whether to run… or beg him to stay.
And the truth was, I wanted him to stay.