STOLEN BY THE HEARTLESS LYCAN

Chapter 3: Death of me

Creed’s pov

With their one track mind and not a single mind to mouth (or killing hand) filter, I was respected as the most responsible of my three brothers. My word was law and my brothers have never questioned me. I have never questioned myself.

Not until today.

I looked down at the sleeping creature in my arms and felt a tug where I assume my heart should be.

I understood assignments. Knew how to get the job done with zero mistakes and zero casualties. I knew how to make decisions rationally for the good of my family, the city and Shadow Cove; the treasured dwelling where werewolves lived in peace and safety from humans, other creatures and hunters.

But all rational thought seemed to leak right through my skull as soon as her eyes met mine. F u c k i n g violet orbs would be the death of me.

I have never wanted to completely possess something in my entire life. Never wanted anything as badly as I want her. In my arms, on my bed, by my side.

I was going to leave her. I was going to give her a chance to get a headstart ahead of me before I give up my internal war and chase her to the ends of the earth… But she made her choice and she chose me. I don’t think she understands what she just did. I don’t think I understand what I just did.

I have wanted Cora from the moment I first saw her. Her father was new to the city, creating quite a stir in the underworld and we had paid him a visit, just to rough him up a bit and let im know that he couldn’t peddle flesh on our streets. Whatever he used to do in Italy stays in Italy.

I had been in the middle of a conversation with him when Cora started her performance, captivating the entire audience with her voice.

I was entranced immediately. And hated it.

After her performance, I watched man after man approach her and compliment her for her riveting performance.

She hadn’t even glanced my way, fluttering around the bar, serving drinks and smiling that fake f**k-me smile to her patrons and I was becoming increasingly irritated with the ones that got a little too handsy. A graze of her butt, a cup of her breast, a hand up her dress. So I burned them to a crisp the first chance I got that night, with powers I hated to remember that I had.

I thought it was a one time thing. I wasn’t a good man, but something about defending her honor gave me a f.ucking hard on.

It didn't matter that I showed up to every one of her performances after that. Sometimes she sang. Sometimes she danced and each time, she stole my breath away.

Like the shrewd businessman he was, Orlando probably noticed how much I wanted her and thought he could f.uck up on such a large scale and offer her to me as compensation. He thought i’d think with my d!ck and forgive his grieviances as long as he hands her to me on a silver platter.

He thought wrong.

And now I went against the plan and killed her father just so that I could have her.

Dumbest f u c k i n g thing I’ve done.

Being born without a beating heart was as good as it gets. It helped me act without any sentiments. There were a lot of people that thought they could screw my family over because of past ties and shared experiences; a war apparently. If my parents were sentimental towards them, I held no such compunctions and I immediately let them know as soon as they had the wrong idea and acted out of turn… sometimes I had to make a bloody statement out of it.

Cora stirred in my arms and a frown puckered her eyebrows, her ethereal beautiful face twisting into an expression of shock and pain. Unable to stop myself, I placed my hand on her hair and dragged it down. Once, twice, over and over again until she quietened in my arms.

I have never comforted anyone before. This felt thoroughly satisfying.

Soon, she was quiet again, satisfied even, rubbing her cheek against my chest as she snuggled deeper into my arms. My wolf, the beastly instinct in me growled in satisfaction. If I had a heart, I imagine it would be beating like crazy right now.

Her head lulled a bit and lilac blue hair fell over her face. I pushed her hair out of her face. Had to fight the urge to bring those strands to my face and sniff them.

“You didn’t have to take her along with you, you know?” Hunter said, startling blue eyes searching mine, as confused as the others had been when they beheld me carrying Cora out of the building in my arms.

“I’m keeping her.” My voice brokered no argument.

He was my cousin and bodyguard, the only one I trusted to protect me. We usually thought on the same wavelength. Not today, because I felt like breaking his neck when he insisted, “We should have left her with the others. She’s nothing but an opportunistic p********e clinging to her only chance at safety. You know how they are, Creed-”

“Not another word from you, Hunter,” I snapped, my voice a clear warning.

He sat up straighter, his jaw hardening with all the things he wanted to say. Still, he nodded and remained silent.

The rest of the ride continued in stilted silence.

Unlike the rest of my siblings who stayed in the royal estate in the heart of the Cove, I lived on the outskirts.

My brothers lived in the Beauregard estate, named after my mamma. The estate was over fifty acres, smack dab in the middle of the Cove, but far away from the bustling city that we had our peace and tranquility.

But peace and tranquility was a foreign concept when you grew up in a big house with four fathers and brothers like Maddox and Conrad. I left as soon as I got the chance and never looked back ever since.

I took Cora in my arms, sighing in contentment as soon as I passed the threshold of my home. She never stirred once and her gut feeling must be skewed because I should be the last person she should trust herself so blindly to.

I placed her in bed and made to leave the room but something on her neck caught my attention. I pushed her hair out of the way and animosity bubbled in my stomach at the scar on her neck.

A brand.

That bastard had branded his own daughter like she was nothing but mere livestock.

For creatures like us, it was difficult to kill us, difficult to scar us. He had to have burned her over and over again to leave a wound this fresh.

Not for the first time, I regretted killing him so easily. Orlando Russo was known for his obscene business ventures. He was one of the few humans who knew of our kind’s existence; creatures thought to be myth. Orlando had not ran screaming or tried to wipe us off the face of the earth like the others, instead, he started a business venture; breeding our kind.

Not just any creature, but those species unique even to us. He kidnapped their mothers, forced them to have s*x with him and after offsprings were born from the union, he either sold them for hefty amounts or put them to work in one of his many establishments.

Few years ago, he moved from Italy to our part of town, and like every other businessman involved in the Italian underworld, he had dealings with the Valentino family.

I had proposed we kill him as soon as I was old enough to be let into the business of keeping the peace and keeping the city under my family’s thumb but my papà wouldn’t have it. After all this time, he was the only lead we had of the valentinos, a superior race of vampires that were starting to be a thorn in our flesh, as elusive as they were powerful. My parents had a personal vendetta against Valentinos and recently, they’d upped their game. We needed to find their stronghold and we needed to find it fast.

Orlando was our last lead and I had killed him.

And I didn’t even regret it.

Son of a bítch.

I stared at her again and wondered what to do with her. She was a siren, not a werewolf, so bringing her into the Cove was already a problem in itself. I could convince my family but the council will never stand for it. Not after their patience was already stretched too thin with hunters and vampires and hunter vampires living amongst us.

The council could suck my d i c k.

Giving up the internal struggle, I sighed and brought her hair to my face. Inhaled a lungful. She smelled sweet; like honeysuckle and vanilla. My fangs hurt with the senseless need to pierce her skin and taste her blood. See if it was as sweet as she smelled.

Vitality pulsed in her carotid arteries, pounding against the milk coloured skin of her neck.

The sight of the brand mark marring her skin jarred me back to reality. Muttering a curse, I started to slip out of bed, but soft hands clasped around my jacket. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me, mister. Please.”

If she knew how much the sound of her begging burned straight through my skin all the way to my groin…

I clenched my eyes shut at her soft pleading voice and struggled to remember that the desperation in her voice was just an illusion, as fake as the smiles and compliments she gave her father’s patrons.

“I said I’ll do anything, remember?” she whispered, bringing her lips to my ear, her arm wounding around my neck, “anything.” She licked the side of my face, moaning softly and I practically combusted.

“Cora.”

“I know you want me,” she groaned in a throaty voice, dragging her blue tipped nails down my torso that tightened under her touch, “I want you too.”

She sounded like she really wanted this, but her arm around my neck gave her away. She was trembling violently.

She was terrified.

Somehow, she kept her fear out of her voice and facial expression but body language never lie.

Sudden annoyance and irritation crawled through my veins. My blood suddenly burned hotter than it ever had, singing my bones.

Clamping her wrists tight in one hand, I gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I will not sleep with you, Cora.”

She blinked, dropping the act. “Then why did you bring me to your bed?”

“Would you prefer to sleep on the floor?”

“That’s not what I meant.” She insisted.

After a few seconds, she yawned, sleep about to pull her under again.

Pulling the covers over her, I said gruffly, “Go to sleep. I’ll get someone to heal your wounds before morning.”

“Mister…” she whispered before I left the room.

“Creed. Nobody f u c k i n g calls me mister.”

She swallowed and nodded, tucking in that piece of information somewhere at the back of her mind. “Why’re you being so nice to me?”

"You’re useless to me if you die on me.” I said firmly, shutting the door behind me.