The Hybrid Curse [MM]

Chapter: 14

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Ezekiel's POV:

I had just finished draining the girl's blood, her lifeless body sprawled before me. Irritation tightened my jaw as I stared at her motionless form. I hate fake promises.

I had asked her earlier if she would take me, if she truly understood what I was. She had said yes. Said she had heard of me.

A weak soul.

Just then, a familiar voice broke the silence. Walking into the room, he cast a quick glance at the body on the floor before turning to me.

"Lord Ezekiel, he should be here in the next five minutes."

"How credible is this?" I shot back.

"Very, sir. He is already at the first gate. Which room should I prepare for his arrival, Lord?" Pi asked.

"No. Just dispose of the lady's body and compensate her family. Everything else should remain intact."

Without another word, he set to work, carrying out my instructions.

As soon as Pi, my second-in-command, was gone, I sank into my favorite armchair, waiting. He would be here any moment now. Just as I had predicted, after banging on the door like the madman he was, he finally entered.

As expected, his face twisted with rage the moment he saw the blood on the floor. A smirk curled on my lips—that was my plan. I wanted him to see it, to remember that I hadn't changed. That I was still the man he now hated.

Already tired of this little display, I decided to take it a step further. With a flick of my fingers, the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness. One thing about werewolves: their senses were always heightened in the dark. And that was exactly what I wanted—to remind him that I was here, right here with him.

As expected, I could feel the tension rolling off him. His heartbeat slowed as he tried to pinpoint my exact location, though he stood as if unaffected. Seconds stretched into minutes. I had expected him to react, to lash out as he usually did. But he remained silent. He knew where I was. He had sensed me. And yet, he said nothing.

Interesting.

"Long time no see, ex-lover?" I murmured, letting the words come out as a question, intentional.

I saw his body stiffen through the darkness. He was trying to hold onto his anger, but the shadows distorted everything.

Still, he said nothing.

The silence stretched between us, the only sound was the steady rhythm of our heartbeats.

Then, in a blink, I lunged. He barely had time to process before I was in front of him.

"Still not going to answer, huh?" My fingers ghosted over his neck, his most sensitive spot. He sucked in a sharp breath before shoving me aside, though his strength had little effect on me.

"Why are you doing this, Zeke?" he finally asked, his breath ragged.

"What?" I stopped, tilting my head.

A low sigh escaped him before he bit down harder, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"You mean I should stop touching you like this?" I mused, resuming my caress. This time, I traced slow, deliberate strokes from his neck to his shoulders—innocent yet unmistakably intentional.

Roman exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. "Don't ever touch me." With that, he jerked my hands off again.

I smirked, watching him struggle to keep his composure. "That's not what your body is saying."

"You know nothing about my body, you bastard!" he snapped, moving away from me completely.

I saw red. In an instant, I rushed him, grabbing his throat, claiming him like he was mine.

"You better watch your mouth, sweetheart. Or should I remind you?" My free hand trailed down his shirt, brushing against his navel. My voice dropped lower.

"Have you forgotten those nights? Your hands gripping the sheets, your tongue tangled with mine, my sweat staining your body—your bed?" I paused, letting the memories sink in.

"Or should I remind you how you refused to wash your sheets for six months after we ended? Because you were obsessed with me. Because you missed me but couldn't admit it?" I smirked as the dim light revealed the surprise flickering across his face.

"I know you, sweetheart. I know what you want. I know what's running through your mind. I know that your body craves me, and you hate yourself for it." I leaned in, whispering against his skin.

"I know you've been fighting the urge to come here. And when you heard that I marked and claimed your friend, you came running—without thinking, without using your brain, Roman."

I felt it before he could deny it. His body betrayed him.

"I can tell that right now, your dick is rock hard just from hearing me say all of this." My fingers moved—slow but swift—before he could stop me. My hands ghosted over his length. He was hard. So hard.

But then, just as quickly, he shoved me away, refusing to give in.

I switched the lights back on immediately.

And there it was—the real struggle. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin, his chest heaving. His hands clenched into fists, trembling with restraint. And his cock, straining against his pants, proof of everything he refused to admit.

I tilted my head back and laughed softly, knowing I was winning.

Teleporting in front of him, I murmured, "Still running?" My breath was warm against his skin.

"You think avoiding me changes what we are?"

Roman's fists trembled. His resolve was slipping, fraying.

Then, without a word, he snapped.

He slammed me against the wall, his lips crashing into mine—rough, angry, desperate. But it wasn't just anger. It never was.

His hands fisted in my shirt as he devoured me, taking what he had denied himself for so long. I let him. For a moment, I let him have his way. I watched as he closed his eyes, drowning in the kiss, indulging himself.

Then, I flipped the script.

"I own you, Roman. Not the other way around."

I spun him, pinning him against the wall instead, reclaiming control.

The kiss turned dangerous, teasing—a reminder of just how well we knew each other. Every moment, every second, every month, and every year apart has led to this.

I bit, sucked, and fucked his tongue until he ripped away, breathless, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and something else.

"This doesn't change anything, Zeke," he rasped.

"Doesn't it?" I smirked. "You came here to fight me, Roman. But we both know what you really want."

Silence.

I watched as he struggled to pull himself together, the tension thick between us.

Just how I liked it.

He threw one last taunt, his voice almost tender. "Go ahead. Keep pretending you don't want this."

But then his expression darkened. His voice dropped, laced with something heavier. "Why did you claim and mark him after everything? What stunt are you pulling, Ezekiel?"

Finally,

A smirk tugged at my lips.

There it is.