When we entered his mansion, the interior felt more opulent and secure than ever before. Soft, warm light was scattered around, and the velvet sofas seemed to beckon with comfort. He led me straight to the bedroom. This room was even more lavish. The walls were lined with mirrors, making the room feel vast and mysterious. In the center was a massive bed draped in black velvet sheets.
"Rest here," he said, his voice lacking its previous harshness. "I'll take a shower."
He went into the bathroom, and I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. The sound of water came from the bathroom, and my heart beat with a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness. Tonight was different. Tonight, I was ready for him to come to me.
After a while, the bathroom door opened. Alex stepped out—completely naked, his wet hair clinging to his shoulders, water droplets tracing paths down his chest. The moonlight fell on his body, and he looked like a living statue—powerful, dangerous, but no longer frightening. Instead, he was captivating.
He took a step towards me, and without thinking, I stood up and clung to him. I buried my face in his wet chest, his warmth enveloping me. His scent—of the forest, rain, and the unique scent of an Alpha—intoxicated me.
Alex was surprised, but then his arms wrapped around me. "What happened?" he whispered into my hair.
"I know," I said, my voice muffled against his chest. "I know you saved me."
Hearing this, his arms tightened around me. Then, he lifted me and laid me gently on the bed. The animalistic gleam was back in his eyes, but this time, there was tenderness in it too. He came over me and began to undress me. Today, I didn't resist. I just kept looking into his eyes, and with every touch, my body filled with a new kind of excitement.
When I was completely naked, he settled over me. His gaze held mine, and then he entered me gently. This time, there was no pain, only a sense of fulfillment—a completeness I had been searching for.
Then, my eyes caught our reflection in the mirror across the room. I saw Alex moving above me, his muscles straining with every motion, and me beneath him, reveling in his every touch. A smile was on my face, and with every thrust, that smile grew deeper. I tried to hide my face, but Alex caught my hand.
"No," he growled, "Look. Look at how beautiful you are when you are mine."
He gripped my chin and turned my face towards the mirror. "Look," he said again, his voice filled with pride and ownership, "See the strength of an Alpha. See how you bloom beneath me."
I looked at our reflection—my cheeks were flushed, my eyes were shining, and a smile I barely recognized was on my lips. This wasn't me, and yet it was. With Alex, in this moment, I was exactly who I was meant to be.
He pulled my body deeper into his, and I turned, wrapping my arms around his neck. In the mirror, I saw the two of us merged into one—an Alpha and his marked one. And as a powerful climax seized my body, I closed my eyes, and this time, there were no tears. This time, there was only a satisfied smile on my lips.
The events of the night—the horrific scene in the woods and then the intoxicating, strange unity with Alex in bed—floated in my mind like a dream. When I opened my eyes, the soft morning sun was filtering into the room, casting golden streaks on the black velvet sheets. Alex was still asleep. His face looked peaceful and youthful in sleep, the cruel gleam in his eyes hidden. His lips were slightly parted, and one arm was stretched across the pillow where I had slept. Seeing him like this was strange—vulnerable, perhaps. Human.
My body held a slight ache and a pleasant weariness, but my mind held a new clarity. The illusion had shattered. My mother's mask had fallen, and so had Alex's, at least partially. He was still a dangerous, untamed force, but now he was a force for my protection, not my destruction. This thought filled me with a warmth, an attraction born from a mix of fear and gratitude.
I tried to slip out of bed quietly, trying not to disturb his sleep. The cold stone floor sent a pleasant chill through my bare feet. I opened the bathroom door, stepped inside, and closed it.
The bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of the house. A large, stone-tiled shower area with a glass door. I turned the shower on, and the spray of warm water was a blissful sensation on my skin. I closed my eyes and let the water run over my face and hair, as if it could wash away all the memories and confusion of the night. I wanted to forget the twisted ecstasy on my mother's face, the violent eyes of those Alphas, and then Alex's tender grasp.
Then, suddenly, the shower's glass door opened. I started and turned to look. Alex stood there, completely naked, a mischievous and hungry glint in his eyes. He looked at me, and a smile played on his lips.
"Morning," he said, his voice heavy and deep with sleep.
"Morning," I replied, my voice trembling slightly, not from fear, but from anticipation.
He stepped into the shower behind me. The heat of his body enveloped me. He placed his hands on my waist and buried his face in my wet hair.
"Your scent..." he whispered, "is even more intoxicating in the morning."
I leaned my head back against his chest, the streams of water flowing over both of us. But then, his hands moved lower, and his fingers sought the path between my buttocks. My eyes widened. This was unexpected and intimate. I braced my hands against the wall, steadying myself.
"Alex... no," I groaned, "Wrong place... It hurts."
But he held my waist tighter, applying pressure with his fingers. "Shhh," he whispered in my ear, his voice holding a mischievous stubbornness, "No, I want to do it here."
"Alex, please," I said, a mix of pain and laughter in my voice, "If you must, do it properly. This is... uncomfortable."
"I know what I'm doing," he said, but his efforts were futile. Anatomy was clearly not on his side. He was persistent, like a mischievous child trying to fit a round peg into a square hole.
"Try all you want," I said, a little teasingly, the water running down my face, "You'll never succeed. It's too tight. It's no use."
He let out a dramatic sigh and rested his head on my shoulder. "You're ruining my fun," he grumbled, but the stubbornness was gone from his voice.
"I'm being a realist," I said, smiling, "And you know the right way."
He conceded. He removed his hands and gripped my shoulders, turning me gently to face him. The water ran from his hair down his face, and the animalistic gleam in his eyes had softened into a warm, sensual heat.
"You're always right, aren't you?" he said, with a slight smile.
"In this matter, yes," I replied, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He lifted me, pressing my back against the shower wall. The warm stream of water now flowed between us. This time, when he entered me, it was slow and easy. No pain, just a deep, satisfying fullness. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall, savoring every movement. It wasn't as fierce as the passion of the previous night, but a deeper, more lasting connection.
"Open your eyes," he whispered.
I opened my eyes. His gaze was locked on mine, and in that green, I could see my own reflection—a woman filled with confidence, one who was enjoying this moment by her own will. He kissed my lips, a gentle but claiming kiss, and then his movements quickened. I matched his rhythm, meeting every thrust. The sound of the shower mingled with our breaths and moans, and we lost ourselves in each other. When the climax came, it was like a calm, deep wave that washed over us both simultaneously. He rested his head on my shoulder, and we stood there, under the water, holding each other up.
A few minutes later, he turned off the shower and we stepped out. He took a soft towel and gently dried my hair and body. This tenderness was new, and it filled my heart with a strange warmth.
"You must be hungry," he said, wrapping a towel around himself. "I'll have breakfast prepared. Get ready and come downstairs."
He left the room, and I stood there, wrapped in the towel, stunned and pleased by his care. When I went downstairs, he was sitting at the dining table, working on his laptop. The table was set with fresh fruit, pancakes, and coffee.
"Sit," he said, without looking up.
I sat down and started to eat. He was absorbed in his work, but every now and then he would glance at me, as if making sure I was there. After a while, he closed his laptop and took a sip of coffee.
"I have an important meeting today," he said. "You're coming with me."
"Me?" I asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Because you are mine now," he stated plainly. "And people need to see who my marked one is. It's a message."
"To whom?" I asked, a little afraid.
"To those who think they can touch you," he said, and the dangerous glint returned to his eyes. "And to the man who was with your mother last night."
I fell silent. This wasn't just a meeting; it was a display of power. And I was its centerpiece.
"Okay," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I'm ready."
He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "I knew you would be."
We finished breakfast, and then he took me to his study. It was a large room with wooden shelves and a big desk. He handed me a file. "This is your new identity," he said. "Your name is now Julie Valex."
I opened the file. Inside was a new driver's license, passport, and other documents, all with my photo, but the name Julie Valex. It was the final, legal claim. I was his, in every way.
"You need to memorize these," he said. "And you need to learn how to behave like an Alpha's marked one."
"And how is that done?" I asked.
"With pride," he answered, his eyes scanning my face. "And with defiance. You are not weak. You are a reflection of my strength. You must look and act the part."
He taught me some basic rules—how to walk, how to speak, how to look people in the eye. It felt like preparing for a play, but I knew it wasn't a play. This was my new reality.