chapter twenty one

Caspian's POV:

The night had been long, teasing, and full of power plays. I had enjoyed every moment, savoring the way Nikolas fought against the inevitable, his resistance almost making it sweeter. He had struggled, his body trembling with defiance, but I knew the truth. He was mine. He might not admit it yet, but his soul had already recognized it.

Now, as I pulled him into my chest, I could feel his exhaustion, the weight of the night settling on him. His breath was slow, rhythmic, but his body remained tense, as if still unsure whether to accept the reality of what had transpired. His warmth pressed against me, and I couldn't help but smile at the quiet sound of his soft whimpers earlier.

He had fought it so hard, but now, in the silence of the dark room, his body was surrendering. He was mine in ways he would never be able to deny. He had tried, with all his strength, to resist, but deep down, he had known. I could see it in the way his body responded to my touch, even when he tried to pull away. He had learned, perhaps the hardest lesson of all: that some bonds were unbreakable.

I traced a gentle finger along his jaw, watching as he tried to steady his breath, his chest rising and falling in the quiet of the night. His warmth seeped into my skin, and I couldn't help but feel a possessive surge inside me. My lips brushed the top of his head, and I whispered softly, "You belong to me, Nikolas. You always have."

There was no answer, just the faintest of shivers that ran through him. But I knew. He would never escape me now. He might try, he might fight, but I had all the time in the world to wear him down, to make him understand. And when he did… when he finally accepted it… everything would be different. Until then, I would savor every moment of this slow, inevitable conquest.

I held him closer, feeling the tension in his body slowly ebbing as his resistance faded into quiet surrender. His heartbeat was steady now, but I knew beneath the surface, he was still grappling with the truth. That nagging part of him that wanted to fight, to deny what had been so carefully woven between us, was still there, hidden beneath layers of confusion and pride.

I could feel it in the way his fingers clenched against my chest, as if holding onto something—anything—to resist fully giving in. It was the last bit of his pride, the last battle he fought, but I was patient. I could afford to be. I knew he would come around. The bond we shared was too strong, too undeniable.

I pressed my lips to the back of his neck, the soft warmth of his skin inviting, and I let my breath caress him. "I know you're scared," I whispered, my voice low and soothing, though my words were laced with the quiet dominance I couldn't hide. "But you don't have to fight it anymore. You belong to me. And there's no escape from that."

His breath hitched, and I felt him stiffen, but it wasn't the same resistance as before. It was a small tremor, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that spoke volumes. He was listening. The reality of what had happened, of what was between us, was beginning to sink in, and I could see it in the way he no longer pulled away, the way his body now seemed to lean toward me instead of away.

"I can feel you, Nikolas," I continued, my lips grazing his ear. "You feel it too. You can't hide from it. You can't fight what's already yours."

His throat worked as he swallowed, and for a brief moment, I thought he might speak—might push me away again. But the words never came. Instead, he just lay there, against me, his body now so soft in my embrace. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow, but the tension in his muscles told me everything I needed to know. He wasn't fully there yet. But he was close.

I smiled to myself, content. There was no rush. I would take my time, savoring every moment, every hesitation, every inch of ground he'd give me. Eventually, he would surrender entirely. I would make sure of it.

"You don't need to speak," I murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. "I already know what you're thinking."

For a moment, he tensed again, but I could sense his resistance slipping away, like sand through the fingers of someone realizing they're holding onto something that was never meant to be controlled. It was only a matter of time before he would stop fighting and accept it, just as I had known he would. We were bound, whether he liked it or not.

And in the silence of the night, I held him even closer, claiming him as mine in every possible way.

The sudden ring of the phone cut through the silence like a sharp blade, startling both Nikolas and me. My body tensed, my grip instinctively tightening around him, but I quickly glanced at the screen. Ronan, my beta. I cursed under my breath, muttering a curse word that I hadn't meant to let slip in front of Nikolas, but it didn't matter. My attention was elsewhere.

Nikolas stiffened beside me, his body immediately reacting to the shift in my mood. His posture became rigid, like he was bracing himself for something.

I picked up the phone, my voice cold as I answered, "What is it, Ronan?"

There was a pause before Ronan's voice came through the phone, casual, almost too casual, like he had no idea of the tension thick in the air. "I've been trying to reach you through the link," he said, his tone clipped. "How is our runaway princess?"

Nikolas froze completely at the mention of "princess," and I felt the low growl that rumbled from deep within my chest before I even consciously tried to stop it. "Stop it, Ronan," I spat, my tone sharp and commanding.

Ronan's voice hesitated for a brief second, then came the familiar sound of his mocking laughter. "Okay, okay, calm down. I was just messing with you. Well, I'm outside waiting with the car. We have a meeting with Alpha Steve, remember? It's today. We need to head to the pack now and get ready for the journey."

I growled, my irritation simmering under the surface. "Fine. I'll be there," I muttered, signing off quickly and ending the call.

I turned to look at Nikolas, still resting against me, his body still tense, his gaze distant. The atmosphere between us had shifted again—this time, an uncomfortable tension settled in his eyes, something I couldn't quite decipher but knew instinctively wasn't a good sign.

"Babe," I said softly, my fingers lightly brushing his jaw. "We have to go. No argument. Come on."

Nikolas opened his mouth as if to protest but closed it again without saying a word. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but instead, he just sighed and began to get up, reaching for his clothes. His silence spoke volumes, but it wasn't the resistance I had expected. There was something more to it. I could feel it in the air.

He stood in front of me, half-dressed, his eyes avoiding mine as he tugged his shirt over his head. "I have a life too, you know," he muttered, his voice almost bitter, but laced with an underlying pain. "I was a nurse. I've always wanted that. I can't just leave it all behind for this."

I moved toward him, my expression softening, but my tone remained firm, calm. "I'm not asking you to leave it behind, Nikolas," I replied, taking a step closer. "You can be a nurse here, too. This—" I gestured around us, "—doesn't change who you are. It doesn't take away what you've always wanted."

He bit his lip, his eyes flashing with something akin to frustration. I could tell he wanted to argue, but he didn't. Instead, he just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, silently wrestling with the emotions brewing inside him.

I reached for him, my fingers lightly brushing under his chin as I lifted it so he would meet my gaze. His defiance was still there, but now, it was tinged with uncertainty. He wasn't sure, but I could see it the doubt, the hesitation.

"Do you not feel us?" I asked quietly, my voice low but with an undeniable edge. "Don't say no, Nikolas, or I will throw you on that bed and show you who's boss again." The words were a warning, playful yet serious, an unspoken promise that I would not allow him to fight this bond forever.

Nikolas' eyes flickered with something—a mix of hesitation, frustration, and perhaps a sliver of something deeper. He didn't say anything at first, his lips pressing together as he fought with whatever turmoil was inside him.

I watched him closely, studying his every movement, every breath. The silence stretched, hanging heavy between us, before he finally spoke, though his voice was quiet and tinged with uncertainty.

"I don't know if I can just give up everything I've worked for," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've built my life around what I want. This—" He gestured between us, his eyes briefly meeting mine before dropping to the floor. "This isn't what I planned."

I couldn't help the small, almost tender smile that pulled at my lips. "And you think you get to choose what you planned, Nikolas?" I asked softly, stepping closer again, my fingers gently brushing his arm. "This isn't about plans. This is about what's already ours. What's always been ours."

He didn't respond, but I could see it in his eyes the slow, reluctant understanding that there was no escaping it. No denying what had already been set into motion.

I leaned down, pressing my lips to his forehead gently, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath mine. "You don't have to make any decisions now," I murmured, my voice soft but laden with authority. "But I promise you, this is who we are. And you will come to see that."