Bloodbound To My Four Archenemies.

July 2 2026, 2:31pm.

Tristan was not the murderer. Hell, there was no way he could have murdered the only girl who ever loved him to a fault.

There was no way he would have looked into those blue-purple eyes and thought to murder her even if he didn’t love her as much as she did.

And he did love her... just not like the way he loved Elara.

However, he was scared of the truth surfacing because a majority of the blame for her death lay solely on his shoulders as there was no way she would have been at the rooftop library that night if he hadn’t asked her to meet.

If he hadn’t dreamt of breaking out of Elara’s clutches and letting himself be loved by someone purer.

His grip on Elara’s hips tightened as he gazed deeply into her eyes and then he hissed; "I thought we promised each other that we would never talk about that day?"

Elara shrugged, her gesture nonchalant as she hissed; "Well, desperate times call for desperate measures."

Tristan could not believe his ears. He could not believe that the girl he had spent the last six years protecting and loving would try to betray him like this. The warmth on his skin chilled, turning into ice, and with a small push, he shrugged Elara off his body and rose to his feet.

"Elara, do you realize what would happen to us if you tell the truth?" He asked coldly, his voice grim. "Do you realize that you would be putting us both in danger by exposing our secrets if you did that?"

Elara rose from the bed, fixed her bra, and glided towards him with the grace of a feline. "I will omit some parts of the story," she said softly, as if that made any sense.

"I will tell only what I want to tell and as for our involvement in her death... that will remain between the two of us. We will just let them know who the real person responsible for the murder is and they can deal with the murderer however they please."

But Tristan wasn’t stupid. He knew that wouldn’t work.

He also knew what they had done.

"And what happens when the Alphas ask why you waited this long to tell the truth?" He asked her, his tone bored. His dick still stirred with the previous anticipation of what would’ve happened and his body thrummed with the desperate need to bury his shaft deep inside her pussy.

Elara shrugged one more time, infuriating Tristan more than he would’ve liked. She lowered her eyes and slowly began to unzip her skirt. Her movements were slow and deliberate— an attempt to muddle his thought process.

It worked.

She drawled; "That is why I won’t confess myself. I’ll make someone else do it."

In other words; I’ll make someone else take my fall one more time.

Tristan’s brows furrowed with a mixture of admiration and irritation. He could not fathom how she always managed to have her way all the time. The corners of his lips quirked upward as he regarded her with cold intensity. He drawled; "Who?"

Now, the smug smile had returned to Elara’s face. She slowly stripped down to her birthday suit. Her skin was smooth and creamy under the dim lights and something about her curves— succulent and sweet— made blood rush to his groin.

"Who else? Berlin of course!" She sassed, rolling her eyes and ignoring the stunned look on Tristan’s face.

She then knelt in front of Tristan, and when she began unbuckling the zippers of his pants, he didn’t stop her. If anything, he simply threw his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for her to devour him like she always does.

"Berlin is the only other person who can break Nyx’ara... and that’s exactly what I intend to do," she added as she released his large fat cock from the confines of his boxer shorts and then she smiled once before taking his entire length into her mouth.

Tristan hummed in agreement, his resolve breaking. He already knew before Elara took him into her mouth that she would win this argument.

She was his weakness... this one.

Stepsister or not.

—

"Oh fuck fuck... go harder!" Elara moaned, squeezing her eyes shut and moaning blissfully as her chalk-white fingers dug into the sheets of the bed while Tristan pounded into her from behind with the speed of an animal in rut.

He was a large man down there, above seven inches long, and as his entire length glided in and out of her, hitting her cervix with every quick hit and thrust, her vision swam.

Pleasure and pain exploded at the base of her stomach and a loud cry tore through her body as she lurched forward when he buried his cock so deep, she could feel him somewhere deep inside her soul.

"Tristan...!" Her voice was sharp, a rasp. Her body vibrated with a pleasure so raw and so intense, thick warm liquid trickled down her spread-out thighs.

"There... there! Don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop!" She cried, arching her back in abandon as a violent spasm wrecked her body.

Tristan’s hands only tightened around her waist even as she struggled to continue taking his hardened length. His fingers dug into her hips until she bled and his dick twitched just as precum seeped out of his swollen tip.

He threw his head back and moaned so loud, the pictures on the wall rattled. But just as he was about to reach his peak... just as he began to let himself drown in the bursting zapping sensation running up his spine, a loud powerful bellow echoed through the house.

"Tristan!"

He froze.

"Tristan!" The voice came again, louder this time, and echoing with so much intensity, a shudder ran up Tristan’s body.

It was Flynn, and as soon as they both heard the sound of his voice, they froze. His widened eyes latched on Elara for a second as a quiet desperate scream echoed between them and as if on autopilot, he picked up his perfume, literally doused himself in it, and then shoved Elara into his closet.

He had just, however, pushed her into the closet, slammed the door shut, and spun around when he noticed a large frame crowding his door.

He stilled and then the color drained from his face in quick succession.

"Tristan..." Flynn drawled, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What are you doing? And why does your room reek of cheap perfume and sex... a lot of sex?"

Flynn gulped. Goddess, he could hear the sound of his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears.

"I-it is nothing..." he stuttered, "I was just... having some fun."

But even after saying that, he couldn’t help but notice the way Flynn’s eyes narrowed even further. He sniffed the air as if searching for something and then slowly, a dark look crossed his features.

Without another word, Flynn pushed Tristan out of the way, stalked towards his closet like a predator that had zeroed in on its prey, and forcefully pulled the door open at once.

*Creak!*