EXTRACT FOR
Alpha Werewolf & The Midnight Ritual
(Arian Wulf)

"That is hardly appropriate attire for a young girl," he blurts after a long moment of processing everything he's seeing. To be fair, it is a lot to take in and he had been expecting chaos and perhaps a swift death.



That earns him the sight of the young woman blushing brightly. "I'm not a young girl," she huffs. "I'm old enough to be mated now," she continues and gestures to him as if that should be enough proof of her maturity.



"Is that so?"



"Are you questioning my age?" she sounds frustrated by it.



"I'm saying you're too young and you should leave before someone else comes and eats  you up," he says dryly.



"Oh," she tilts her head. "There's no need to worry about me. There's nothing here that can hurt me."



"Is that so?"



She nods, looking completely earnest as she walks up towards him, her footsteps as sure as steady as before, though he notices  now that she is not wearing any shoes.



He bites his tongue to stop himself from offering her his own. Up close, she appears to be even more fragile. There is something about her scent that is odd, but he does not have anything to compare it to.



"You're making a face," she says. "Why are you making a face?"



"You are very young," he says instead of the actual thoughts going through his head, which is that she really is exquisite. She has the sort of beauty that he knows will only continue to grow with age and he feels an inexplicable need to wrap his coat around her and hide her away from the world.



"If my age bothers you, then you need not see me at all," she says serenely, undoing the cloth around her waist and moving up to his head.



He realizes that she means to blindfold him and bares his teeth, the last weapon he has at hand.



She draws back minutely, eyes wide with shock, and then bares her own teeth at him, pearly whites with not a hint of sharpness to them. She looks like a kitten trying to be brave and it should not be endearing or adorable, but it is both. She blinds him with the robe, ignoring the minute twitches of his head which is all Dragus can manage with him being chained like this.



A Werewolf can fight without his sight and rely on his nose, but he is so powerless already that losing his sight only fuels his rage. "If you're going to kill me, at least do it honorably," he growls because it is easier to growl at a beautiful young woman when he is not looking at her.



"I'm not going to hurt you," she says and he can almost see her rolling her eyes.



"Is that so?"



"You say that a lot," she says instead of answering, sounding faintly amused. "I promise you're not going to be hurt, okay?" she says. "You're gifted to me," she continues. "I take good care of my gifts," she promises.



"Except the ones that has died here," he says bluntly.



"Died?" she echoes. "Nobody has ever died here," she reassures him.



He blinks under the blindfold, stunned by the sincerity in her tone. He has always been good at knowing when someone is lying to him and as far as he can tell, she isn't being deceitful. "I can smell the blood here," he says cautiously.



"Oh," she hums. "That's um... I hear that's normal for first times," she says.



"What?"



"What?" she huffs and to his frustration, refuses to elaborate further. "My name is Rina," she says and in the ensuing silence, he hears nothing but the annoyingly steady beat of her heart. "Well?"



"Well what?" he asks.



"I've introduced myself. It's your turn."