Elara's chair scraped against the floor as she lunged at him.
her fury erupting like a silent scream. One moment she sat still; the next, her hand was flying straight for Luca's throat, clawed fingers tipped in flickers of fire.
But he moved fast, inhumanly fast. He caught her wrist mid air, his grip firm but not cruel. He held her tightly for her to move freely yet she did not feel any pain.
Her eyes widened, not in surprise at his reflexes, but at something else. Her power! her fire had not erupted the way it should. Her palm should have been engulfed in flame, ready to scorch his flesh from bone.
Instead, there was… nothing. Even the sparks she had seen in the start were gone.
Her brows drew together. Her other hand lashed out, and again he caught it. This time with ease, like he was holding a sparrow, not a furious witch with the power to blow this whole house with just one thought.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to push the flame again. This time she felt it, he was burning inside,but outside. Somehow he had channeled all her powers inside him. But then, he should be dead by now. She had used all her powers at once. This was enough for a big explosion.
Luca tilted his head, watching her carefully. "Something is wrong?" he asked, his tone maddeningly amused.
She yanked her hands, trying to free herself. But I could not! His grip was like steel, and she looked nothing more than a vulnerable girl in front of him.
"You—" she hissed.
"You are mine," he said simply, not raising his voice, not pressing his power, but the possession was there. He wanted her to challenge him, so that he could crush it."And nothing will change that."
"You think that binding me means you own me?" Her voice trembled with rage.
"I know it does," he said softly, almost gently. "You can hate me. You can fight me. But if you want to defeat me truly, you need to be stronger. And starving yourself won't get you there."
At a signal from his hand, the servant reappeared, placing the plate of fruits back in front of her.
She stared at it, unmoving. Her stomach churned, more from pride than hunger.
When she didn't reach for the food, Luca picked up a piece while holding her both hands in one hand. The fire in her slowly dissipated. She was still weak after the war. It had been days since she had not eaten. Despite her hatred, her body reacted to the food.
Her stomach growled and she wanted to cut her stomach then and there for betraying her.
He picked up a slice of ripe peach and held it to her lips. Her jaw clenched and she turned her face away.
He sighed. "Fine," he said, almost too lightly. "For every bite you spit, I'll kill one of your wolves."
The words dropped like a thunderclap. The room gasped again. Elara's head snapped back toward him.
"You wouldn't—"
"I would," he said calmly. "You've seen me do worse."
Her lips parted, trembling. Slowly, reluctantly, she took the bite. The fruit was sweet, sickeningly so, but she chewed it like it was flesh—his flesh. She bit down hard, jaw tight, eyes burning into his.
He smiled.
She struggled again to get her hands free. If she must eat, she would prefer to use her own hands but he did not let go of her hands. When she glared at him, he looked at her innocently as if he did not understand her fury.
"Let my hands go!" she gritted her teeth but he only laughed at her weakness.
"No," he said, pulling the plate back. "You lost that right. You have challenged your new alpha for the fight. If you want to free yourself, you have to show me your strength. And make yourself free with your own powers."
He took the next fruit himself, brought it to her lips again. She didn't move. Didn't want to open her mouth.
"Elara," he said softly, voice threaded with warning.
She opened her mouth, letting him feed her. Every bite tasted like blood but she swallowed.
She let him feed her because she had to survive. Because if she didn't, more would die. Because revenge needed strength.
She will play this game for now. But one day soon, she would burn the taste of this moment from her tongue with his ashes.
He could see the hatred brimming in his eyes but he didn't mind it. If hatred was the only emotion that could keep them together, he would welcome it with open arms.
One by one, he fed her whole plate and only then did he let go of her hands. The pack had watched everything holding their breaths. They only spoke after Luca looked at them again.
"We have received a complaint from the council." his beta came forward and glared at Elara as if he wanted to tear her apart. "The silver pack is crying again in front of them. They complained that we had attacked their territory."
He noticed Elara glaring at him again while the whole pack was shooting daggers at her as if it was her mistake.
"That is not an issue. I was here with you. Your statement could prove me innocent. None of our warriors had left our territory that night." his voice did not hold any guilt.
Elara frowned and looked at him could it really be rouges who attacked.
"Alpha.." the beta sounded worried instead. "They would not accept my statement since I am under your command. But if the… luna would speak, they would accept it."
Every eye turned to look at Elara and she stiffened in her chair. Her lips slowly curled.
"What made you think that I will speak in support of you?" she challenged with a disgusted gaze, "when i want you dead more than anyone."