Chapter 270: Silly Mistake

"You’re the only one I would ever care about! You know this!" Gregory said, his voice trembling between affection and possession. His gaze clung to her as though he could tether her in place with words alone.Rymora merely nodded, her movement small and mechanical, even as she instinctively took a step back. The air between them felt heavy, suffocating with the scent of him. The last thing she wanted was to remain in such close proximity—especially when he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. His fingertips brushed the air as though searching for her skin, and the gesture made her chest tighten in unease.

"I have to return!" she said quickly, her tone sharper than she intended. "Least Aria would notice if the meeting ends and I’m not there!" Her eyes darted anxiously toward the barn door, searching for escape. She turned, meaning to leave, but flinched when a firm hand caught her wrist.

His grip was not cruel yet, but it was possessive. "Don’t worry," Gregory said softly, his voice sliding into what he must have believed to be a loving and sensual tone. "A meeting like that is bound to take longer than usual."

He snaked an arm around her waist, drawing her close. Rymora stiffened, her breath catching as she fought not to recoil outright. She could feel the heat of his skin through her dress, and it made her stomach twist. She did everything she could to keep her face neutral—to hide the irritation, the disgust, and the growing urge to shove him off.

She pushed him away, her patience fraying. "I still have to go. I have a lot of—"

But he didn’t let her finish.

"What do you mean?" His tone rose, indignant. "We haven’t seen each other in so long, and suddenly you’re so cold to me!" His eyes searched her face, full of practiced hurt. Gregory was doing what he always did—trying to guilt her. It might have worked before. It might even have worked tonight if Aria hadn’t told her what she’d scented on him: another woman.

"Don’t you want to kiss me? Touch me? Don’t you miss me?" he asked, every word laced with a physical craving rather than affection. Even now, he could only speak of bodies, never hearts. And when he spoke of her staying in the vampire realm, he made it sound like a favor he was granting her, not a choice she had made.

Rymora looked at him and realized, finally, she was done. The thread of tolerance that had bound her to him snapped. There was no reason to keep pretending—to act as though she could stomach his arrogance, his deceit, or his careless touch. He was a man incapable of love, driven only by ego and want.

"Let’s break up," she said, voice steady despite the tremor in her chest. "We spend so much time apart, and I have lost all feelings to—"

She didn’t get to finish.

"WHAT!" Gregory exploded, his voice loud enough to shake dust from the rafters. His face contorted with disbelief as he grabbed both of her hands, his fingers digging into her skin until it hurt. The strength of his grip made her wince; it would have bruised badly and taken days to heal—if she hadn’t already awakened her wolf.

"What exactly are you saying!" he bellowed, the words echoing like thunder. His breath was hot and sharp against her face, and she could see the madness glinting in his eyes.

"Find someone else, Gregory! I’m no longer in—"

"You cheated on me, didn’t you!" he roared, cutting her off, spittle flying. "You found someone else!" His nostrils flared, and he leaned closer, his voice turning cruel. "I can smell something different about you!"

Rymora didn’t bother to deny it. She didn’t even open her mouth. She simply stood there, eyes cold, hoping his disgust would be enough to make him release her. But instead, his grip tightened. Pain shot up her arms as he shook her once, his rage spilling unchecked.

"Do you think it was easy for me to stand by you while others discarded you? Who do you think you are to break up with me!" His voice broke with fury, echoing through the empty barn.

Rymora didn’t respond. She waited, rigid and silent, hoping he would finish his rant and storm out. But instead, she felt the world tilt—the ground vanish beneath her feet.

He shoved her so hard that she hit the floor before she could even react. The breath rushed from her lungs as she landed on the cold dirt, straw pricking her arms and neck. For a heartbeat she lay there, dazed, staring up at him.

Gregory towered over her, his shadow long and dark under the flickering lantern light. The expression on his face was not sorrow or regret—it was rage. Unchecked, irrational, consuming rage.

"If we’re going to part," he hissed, his voice low and venomous, "we might as well part properly."

The words sent a chill down her spine. For a split second, she didn’t understand what he meant. Then, as he reached for his belt, her breath caught in her throat.

"What are you..."

Her voice faltered.

"Isn’t it obvious?" he interrupted. "I’m taking back what’s mine! If you’ve not given it to someone else!" he raged even as he lowered his pants, baring his nakedness just before he sneered at her.

Rymora was stunned, even more shocked when he used his entire strength to hold her down, tearing at her clothes, prepared to descend on her—yet Rymora fought back hard enough to throw him off her. Gregory looked stunned, considering the fact that as a runt she wasn’t supposed to have that much strength, yet she did.

His eyes widened in shock as he met Rymora’s furious gaze. She looked at him like she wanted nothing more than to rip him apart. It didn’t help that he now knew she had most likely manifested her wolf—something strange since her ears were yet to come out.

Another thing that had worried her was being called back to the pack and used for experiments, seeing as how the secret to hiding wolf ears and blending with humans 24/7 was not something a werewolf could do.

’They would rip me apart or treat me like a monster!’ No doubt in her mind that regardless of what it was, it would not be a good experience, she thought as she slowly stumbled to her feet, fixing her eyes on him.

Gregory never loved her, and the thought that he would harm her after what he had just shown was sealed in her mind even as she looked at him, her eyes flashing gold as she prepared herself to murder him and silence him right there and then.

Gregory also scrambled to his feet, aware of her intentions since Rymora didn’t try to hide it, only for him to sneer as he hurriedly wore his pants, which had fallen to his ankles.

"You might have awakened your wolf, but don’t for a second think you’re stronger than me!" he told her, even as Rymora bared her still very human teeth, her breathing elevated as she prepared to transform and kill him right there and then before anyone noticed.

’Eating other werewolves was looked down on but not entirely forbidden,’ she thought to herself even as Gregory stepped closer to her, making it obvious that he wasn’t going to back down as he licked his lips, making it clear that he still had every intention of finishing what he started.

But he had just dashed towards her when the door of the barn swung open. Rymora, stunned, froze to see none other than Lord Drehk’s butler, who usually came to find her around that time of night.

’The meeting must have ended,’ she thought, watching him approach them, her heart beating in her chest, relieved that she was yet to transform like she wanted to.

Gregory, on the other hand, turned to look at him, glancing at his clothes even as he sneered. "Bloody vampire! Get out!" he snapped with smugness and pride in his tone. "I have business with this maid!" he ordered, having identified the butler’s clothes—a job that was just a tad above that of a servant, even if he was a vampire.

Rymora knew there was no way the servant of Lord Drehk would be ordinary, but there was no way she was going to tell him that.

Rymora bundled her torn gown closer to her body, aware of the fact that half of it was irredeemable, even as she felt the butler’s gaze slide over her.

She was surprised to see him take off his jacket and toss it at her—something she was thankful for—and she wore it, prepared to leave and follow him, only for Gregory to step between them, facing the vampire, whose face seemed to be permanently etched with a frown, while Gregory still had a largely arrogant look on his face.

"Get out before I make you!" he snapped at the vampire, who continued to look at him with something akin to disgust—even more than the looks Rymora had gotten when she first started to go over to Lord Drehk’s villa.

Rymora sighed, aware that the vampire wasn’t going to leave, and regretting that she had not managed to kill Gregory before the vampire came—when she suddenly watched the vampire attack with such astounding speed that it made her eyes flutter shut, her mouth dropping open as she looked to the side, only to see a gaping hole in Gregory’s skull where his brain was supposed to be.

Rymora gasped when she saw the butler attack again, decapitating his head like he was simply squashing a bug and nothing more.