Chapter 272: I messed Up

Rymora didn’t even try to stop him. Her hands only trembled faintly against his chest, her mind spinning as she tried to calm her pounding heart. It was already good enough that he hadn’t picked up on her scent — the subtle trace of wolf blood that lingered beneath her skin — which the king himself seemed to have noticed instantly. Either that, or Drehk had chosen to ignore it. Maybe he saw no reason to mention it, or maybe, terrifyingly enough, he didn’t care.He didn’t hesitate to strip her. His touch was firm, deliberate, and there was no trace of gentleness in the way his cold fingers glided across her skin, removing each layer of clothing with unnerving precision. It was only a matter of time before she felt him slide himself deep inside her, the weight of his body pressing her down against the sheets as pleasure flooded through her veins like wildfire. The sound that escaped her throat was half gasp, half moan, her entire body arching beneath him as every nerve seemed to awaken at once.

The pleasure poured through every pore of her skin, and she clung desperately to him, her nails digging into his back as if anchoring herself to something tangible amid the dizzying haze that clouded her mind. The feel of his body — hard, cold, and yet burning from within — was intoxicating, and it only grew more unbearable when he turned her around, his hands gripping her hips with a possessive steadiness before he pulled her onto his lap.

He made her sit on him, his hands guiding her movements, urging her to move her hips in rhythm with his own. His crimson eyes locked on hers — eyes darkened with desire so fierce it looked almost inhuman. There was hunger there, raw and consuming, and it made her chest tighten with both fear and an unwilling thrill. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her whole.

His gaze was fiery, predatory, but Rymora’s body burned even hotter. She didn’t understand why. Something about her body felt... different. Changed. It was as if every touch from him now sparked twice the pleasure, every thrust sent her deeper into a world that had no logic, no restraint. Her skin tingled; her breath hitched. She couldn’t think straight — couldn’t think at all.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as she rode him, her hips moving faster, her body trembling from the force of what she felt. Whatever she usually experienced with him — the secret, forbidden heat they shared — it seemed to have doubled, intensified into something twice as strong and infinitely harder to control.

She moaned loudly, unable to hold herself back, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as the sound filled the air between them. Her head tilted back, hair sticking to her flushed skin, as Drehk’s strong hands gripped her waist tighter, his movements growing rougher, faster.

He thrust into her with relentless rhythm, his pace quickening until she could barely breathe. She felt him move inside her again and again until her vision blurred, until she saw stars dancing behind her eyelids. Breathing felt like a luxury she no longer cared about; she could only focus on the dizzying rhythm of their bodies colliding, the overwhelming sensation consuming her whole.

At some point — she wasn’t even aware when — she lowered her head, unable to fight the impulse that overtook her. Her lips found his in a deep, reckless kiss — something she had never done before, something she would never have dared if her mind hadn’t been lost to the moment. But right then, she didn’t care.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she kissed him harder, almost desperately, her breath mixing with his as she mentally urged him to move faster. The taste of him, the feel of his skin, the low growl that rumbled in his throat — all of it pulled her deeper into that dangerous edge of ecstasy.

Moments later, a wave of pleasure crashed through her body. Her muscles tensed, her voice broke into another cry, and for a second, she felt like she was being torn apart from within — in the most euphoric way possible. But it didn’t end there. It kept coming, again and again, one after another, until she was shaking uncontrollably.

And then, at the height of it, she felt Drehk tense beneath her — felt his body shudder as he released into her in sharp, heavy bursts. He groaned, the sound rough and guttural against her ear, and pulled her tighter against him, pressing her body close as though to fuse her with himself.

Rymora didn’t move. She didn’t even try to push him away. Her limbs felt weak, her body trembling from exhaustion and lingering pleasure. Instead, she simply allowed herself to sink against his chest, resting there in silence as their breathing slowly steadied. His body was cool and firm against hers, and despite herself, she found it comforting — disturbingly so.

It felt like the perfect place to be. His arm rested around her waist, his hand tracing lazy circles against her back as if to remind her that he owned every inch of her. And she didn’t resist. Not yet. For a few blissful minutes, she let herself drift in that fragile illusion of peace.

It was the absolute feeling of bliss — fragile and fleeting — and she wanted to stay there, if only for a heartbeat longer. But then, just when she began to relax, she heard Drehk’s voice cut through the quiet.

"Clearly you’ve warmed up to me," he said, his tone light, almost teasing. "Or is it my lower member that you prefer?"

His words jolted her out of her haze. Rymora blinked, her eyes fluttering open, her breath catching at the sheer audacity of his teasing tone. She didn’t respond. She didn’t even glance at him, pretending not to hear as she let her head rest against his shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to argue or think. All she wanted was to sleep.

But her moment of calm shattered entirely when she heard his next words — quiet, deliberate, and horrifying.

"It’s most likely because you have conceived... and you’re with child."

The words hit her like a thunderclap.

Her entire body went rigid. She jerked upright so quickly it was almost as if she had been burned. Her wide, wild eyes locked onto him, her lips parted in disbelief. Drehk lay there, still reclining lazily on the bed, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth — as though her horrified reaction was exactly what he’d expected.

"That’s impossible!" Rymora blurted before she could stop herself. Her voice trembled, her hands instinctively clutching the sheets to her chest. But even after the words left her lips, she didn’t care. She repeated them again, louder this time, panic flooding her expression.

"That’s impossible!"

"What?" Drehk asked smoothly, amusement flickering in his crimson eyes. "The fact that we’re both fertile adults?" His smirk deepened, cruel and knowing, as if enjoying her panic.

Rymora didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her mind was spinning, her throat dry. She didn’t care that she was still naked, that his gaze now roved leisurely over her exposed body. All she could think about was the drug — the one she had taken. The one that was supposed to erase the possibility entirely.

"What do you think that little ball you ate does?" he asked softly, voice dripping with mockery.

Rymora’s frown deepened, the muscles in her face tightening as she glared at him. "How do you know? How are you so sure?" she asked, her voice hard now, though her heart was racing wildly.

Drehk chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying her panic. He looked unbothered — almost pleased — as he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "How else?" he said calmly, his tone maddeningly casual. "I can hear its heartbeat."

Rymora froze. Her confusion only deepened. If what he said was true, she should have heard it too. She was a werewolf now — her senses far sharper than before. There was no way she wouldn’t hear it if it truly existed within her.

Lies! she wanted to shout. How come I can’t hear it? But she bit her tongue, knowing better than to challenge him. Instead, she forced herself to breathe slowly, trying to convince herself that Drehk was just trying to scare her — that this was his way of toying with her.

But then he spoke again, and the look in his eyes told her otherwise.

"I’m the father," he said, his voice deepening with pride. "It’s the way vampire males connect with their offspring — to ensure it’s protected." He paused, his tone darkening as he added, "Most importantly, the drug you got from that shop with the red veil was fake."

The words struck her like another blow.

He sounded annoyed now, his patience thinning. "Did you really think I would allow you to meddle with our child? That ball I gave you..." He leaned closer, his breath brushing her skin, "...is one of a kind. There’s only one left in House Drehk."

Rymora’s heart, which she had fought so hard to steady, began to pound violently again. Her thoughts scattered. Her lips parted, but no words came. She stared at him in utter disbelief, unable to move, unable to breathe, as he continued speaking, his tone turning almost soft.

"We will be married," he said. "And you will have my child. I’ll pay the price for it being half-human... but I have a way to ensure the king forgives me."

Meanwhile, all Rymora could think — over and over again, like a desperate mantra — were three and a half trembling words:

I messed up! Badly.