Surrender

Layleen

Mateo has long since gone, leaving me broken and trembling, but my tears refuse to stop. My pillow is soaked beneath my head, but I lack the strength to move.

Each time this happens, my mind is instantly pulled back to the haunting memories of the life I once lived before I met Dion. I can't even count how many times the men from my old pack forced themselves on me, assaulted me, bullied me until I wished I could just disappear.

Yet, somehow, I endured. There was always that distant echo deep within my heart, urging me to stay strong. Perhaps it was delusional, but I held onto the hope that the Moon Goddess had something better in store for me.

And she did. She led me to Dion.

He saved me. He took my hand, pulled me from the abyss of despair, and promised me shelter and protection. He kept that promise—and in the end, he even gave me his heart. He said I could be his fated mate, and I believed him. I truly did.

But Katarine hates me.

Truthfully, I would hate myself too. Every time I see Dion with other women, my blood boils with the same suppressed fury that seethes in our Luna.

Dion doesn't know. I can't bring myself to tell him. What if he doesn't believe me? What if he's angry and throws me out? After all, Katarine wasn't wrong—what do I have to offer anyone, besides my body? And I can't be alone. I'm safe here, even if I'm really not.

"Leen," a soft, low voice cuts through the heavy fog of my thoughts, and for a moment, I wonder if I'm hallucinating.

I blink rapidly, my lashes fluttering as my vision clears, and at last, I see him—his strong, dominating presence fully revealed before me.

"Dion?"

"You don't look well, sweetheart," he murmurs softly, his warm hand brushing tenderly across my forehead. "Are you feeling sick?"

I turn my head to the side, my trembling fingers clutching the edges of the blanket all the way up to my neck. I can't let him see the mess Mateo left behind on the sheets. Embarrassment floods me, and the fear lingers, heavy and suffocating.

Somehow, I feel like Dion already knows what I'm hiding, but his kind, gentle smile stays firmly in place as he chooses to ignore it.

"You're drenched in sweat, Leen," he says again, his long fingers running through my tangled hair. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. I'm sure it'll make you feel better."

I can't respond. I'm terrified that if I open my mouth, the tears will come pouring out, and I won't be able to stop them until I've collapsed. His power over me is undeniable. With nothing more than his voice, he can lift me up or bring me to my knees in an instant, and I'm helpless to resist, carried away by his every word.

Dion lifts me effortlessly, the soft white blanket still wrapped around my trembling body. His warmth seeps through the fabric, and as soon as his scent surrounds me, it's like a shield, an invisible veil that settles over my mind. I relax, melting into his embrace, soothed by the affection and strength he offers without question.

He locks his dark eyes with mine, and once again, I am lost. I don't even notice how we make our way to the bathroom or how the bathtub fills with hot water. The next thing I know, I'm naked, my body sinking into the warm embrace of the water. The sweet scent of flowery oil coats my skin, mingling with my own cool, refreshing fragrance.

Dion is strangely quiet, but I think I understand why. He's preparing me—for what I already know. He, too, is aware that I was in his office, eavesdropping on his conversation with Katarine. That's why he's waiting for me to speak first.

I fight the urge to break the silence, my eyes tracking his hand as it moves over my body, spreading soap across my skin. I don't want to speak—because I'm terrified of what he might say in response.

Finally, he stops and helps me stand, a fluffy white towel in his large, strong hands. He wraps it gently around my shoulders, and every time his fingers graze my bare skin, electric currents ripple through me, threatening to burn me alive.

I can't hold it in any longer. I part my lips and ask the question that's been gnawing at me.

"Is it true?"

He doesn't flinch at the sound of my voice. His hands continue their quiet ministrations, rubbing the soft towel over my damp skin, but the slight twitch of his lips betrays the emotions he's trying to conceal.

"Yes," he replies at last. "It's true."

Until that very moment, I had still hoped he would deny it. I was a fool.

"Why?" The question escapes me, and the silence that stretches between us feels like a thick, cold wall, pulling us further apart.

Dion lifts his gaze, and I see his eyes darken. His wolf—Aster—flashes to the forefront, and I instinctively look away, feeling the crushing weight of his dominance.

"Layleen," Dion's voice softens, and the gentleness in it makes me wince. I timidly glance at his lips, unable to fully meet his gaze. "Do you trust me?"

In that moment, my heart shatters. I thought I did. I thought I trusted him completely. But now… I'm not sure. And yet, somehow, I still do.

Seeing the hesitation in my heart, Dion throws the towel aside, then lifts me effortlessly, settling onto the floor. He places me gently on his thighs, my body facing his. I can't bear to look at him, but he doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he slowly traces his hands over my back, sliding them all the way down to cup my buttocks. His hot lips press against my neck, sending a shiver of desire racing down my spine.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "I've thought this through, Layleen. Just trust me—like you always have. You know I will always keep you safe, don't you? You know I could never abandon you."

I know. His words settle into my heart with undeniable certainty, and for a moment, it's enough. I know he's telling the truth.

But is it really enough?

I can't think clearly when I'm this close to him. His scent wraps around me, intoxicating, his touch sending electric currents through my skin. He traces my neck with his lips, and I feel my mind spin, dizzy from the sensation.

I belong to him. No one can have me but him.

I gasp as his hot, wet lips brush against my right breast. Before I can process it, my nipple is in his mouth, his teeth gently nibbling, each deliberate movement of his tongue sending shivers through my body.

I am weak when I know he wants me. My hips shift instinctively as a strong, tingling sensation spreads between my thighs, and I feel the unmistakable pressure of his erection against my skin. It's been weeks since he last touched me, and the ache for him has become unbearable.

He knows it too. I feel his fangs graze my shoulder as his right hand works to unzip his pants.

He's rock hard, and I am soaking wet.

I feel drunk on his scent, dizzy with desire. If Dion has never lied to me before, I know now that he must be just as consumed as I am. I moan as his length brushes against my clit—there's no need for more teasing; I am more than ready, but he holds back, prolonging the torment.

I sigh, frustrated, and Dion gives in, pushing himself deep inside me. The moment we connect, I melt against him, as if his body is a magnet pulling mine closer.

His movements are deep, urgent, his strong hands gripping my buttocks as he drives into me. With every swift thrust, he fills me completely, reaching deep and brushing against every sensitive spot.

My body responds eagerly to him—I've missed him so much—and it doesn't take long before my spine arches, a soft moan of satisfaction escaping my lips as my legs shake in pleasure.

Once again, he has defeated me. I surrendered to him without resistance.