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“Ah, I see you are still as feisty as ever. But if we want to get technical, you are a garlic-phobic goth too. Only you are better than any ordinary vampire because you have the ability to grow a tail.”
Rolling my eyes, I huff out an exasperated sigh. “Keep talking, and maybe I’ll turn you into a chew toy.”
At that, Xavier’s smirk widens into a full-blown grin. He moves over me, bracing himself on his elbows. “Is that a fact?” he asks, leaning down so that his face is inches from mine. “Are you threatening me or seducing me, little wolf?”
“Maybe a little bit of both.”
“Well, I must say, I’m intrigued by the idea of being both a chew toy and a recipient of your seductive powers.”
I raise an eyebrow, a devilish grin spreading across my face. “Then, I guess we’ll just have to see which one wins out,” I retort, my voice filled with a tantalizing promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Xavier
“Again,”Idemand,myvoice firm and commanding as I circle around Lyra. Beads of sweat glisten on her forehead, mingling with the dirt and grime that cling to her skin.
“No, I don’t want to,” she protests.
Her stubbornness remains unyielding, a quality that both frustrates and impresses me. I lower myself to my haunches, positioning myself at eye level with her. “You don’t have a choice; you must do it again.”
“Why can’t I just carry weapons like I used to?”
A wry smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Yes, because weapons served you so well when you first encountered me. Now stop delaying the inevitable and transform.”
She glares at me and shakes her head. “It hurts.”
“I know it does, but you are a vampire; your pain will fade. Push through the pain and do it again.”
“How about I break every bone in your body and then tell you to push through the pain?” she snaps back at me, clearly not amused by my attempt at encouragement.
I sigh, realizing that I need to find a different approach to motivate her; she is still as stubborn as ever. “I didn’t mean to minimize your pain, but the more you transform, the easier it will become.”
“Fine, but I’m going to kick your ass, bloodsucker.”
Despite her words, she relishes the taste of blood as much as I do.
I chuckle, appreciating her tenacity even in the face of adversity. I straighten myself, standing tall before her. “Then prove it,” I challenge, spreading my arms wide in invitation. “Rise, unleash the untamed force that resides within you, and fulfill your eloquent promise of kicking my ass.”
I shouldn’t provoke her, but Lyra has no control over her transformation or the beast that lies within. When she transforms, it’s as if the beast takes over, reducing Lyra to a mere spectator. A week ago, I woke to the heavy, wet sensation of the beast’s colossal head resting on my chest, the sheets drenched in its saliva. Two days later, the beast retaliated by gnawing off the legs of the sofa when I demanded Lyra’s return.
I love Lyra, and I embrace her beast, but our home is ill-equipped to contain such a massive and temperamental creature, and Lyra herself is growing more frustrated by the day.
This training session is crucial for Lyra to gain control over her beast. It’s vital for her to learn how to harness her powers and not let them control her actions, especially when she feels threatened or provoked. We have reached a point where she can initiate her transformation or halt it, but she still lacks complete mastery.
“You have to gain control; your beast is savage and untamed. Need I remind you that you devoured two of your own brothers when you were in beast form?”
Lyra gags, and yes, while the fact that she ate Logan and Declan is disturbing, the sound she’s making now reminds me of the sound she makes when she is choking on my cock, and that is decidedly not disturbing at all. I readjust my cock and get back to the matter at hand because there will be time for such wickedness later.
“I’m going to rip out your heart for reminding me,” she snarls. “Rip it out, right out.”
Ah, she truly is the woman of my dreams—so fierce, passionate, and deliciously murderous. It’s the cruel push she needs because she calls upon her transformation. It pains me to watch the agony unfold as she morphs, but with each passing moment, the process hastens until, in the blink of an eye, the magnificent beast looms before me, every strand of fur bristling with indignant fury. “
Good girl,“ I remark, unsure if I’m talking to the beast or Lyra herself. More often than not, the beast adores my presence, nudging against me and imploring for scratches behind her ears. It serves as the perfect litmus test to determine who holds command. If I dare extend my hand and caress the creature, and she permits such intimacy, then it is the beast in control. However, should the beast snap her jaws, a clear sign of Lyra’s defiance and rage, I am left to contend with her rebellious spirit.
I reach out to stroke the magnificent beast before me. In a sudden surge of aggression, she lunges forward, teeth bared, and with lightning speed, she severs two of my fingers and tears away a chunk of flesh. Pain sears through me, but I am a vampire, and my fingers will soon regenerate. A dark chuckle escapes my lips, blending with the throbbing ache. Blood drips from my hand, staining my impeccably tailored clothes. A hint of annoyance flickers within me, not at the loss of my digits but rather at the sight of crimson splotches marring my designer ensemble. Lyra has a knack for ruining my clothes; she either rips them off when desire overtakes her or causes me to bleed when I aggravate her. Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction.
“You did it. You’ve proven your dominance, and the beast is under your control.” I watch as the wounds on my hand slowly begin to heal, sinew reconnecting and flesh knitting together. It’s a small price to pay for witnessing this pivotal moment. I lock eyes with the beast, searching for a glimmer of understanding within her gaze. “Sit,” I command, fully prepared to lose some more appendages, but it’s another test, a final confirmation that the reins have truly been handed over to Lyra.
