Bloodbound To My Four Archenemies.

July 11 2026, 10:17am.

"Y-you say you’re celebrating b-but I don’t see y-you throwing a party," Nyx’ara commented dryly as she shoved a forkful of roast lamb into her mouth.

The meat melted easily into her tongue, blasting her taste buds with a range of deliciousness that made her squeeze her eyes shut and moan so loudly that the table stilled.

Her eyes snapped open when a growl from the other end of the table jolted her out of her reverie and with her eyes shooting into her hairline, she snickered; "W-what? C-can I not appreciate g-good food anymore?"

Her sassiness made Rhys choke on his food while Azriel and Kieran turned away to laugh into handkerchiefs. Draven— who was the one who had growled— lifted his head to meet her gaze, his eyes as cold as ice as he snapped;

"Yes, you are allowed to appreciate good food. What you are not allowed to do, however, is moan while we’re all eating."

"Why?"

"Because it doesn’t sit right with me!" He drawled, slamming his fist against the table and causing the entire contents of the table to rattle precariously, "...and I do not have to explain to you, a woman whom I do not care for, why it doesn’t sit right with me. Or do I?"

His harsh retort made Nyx’ara’s lips clamp shut. Every ounce of giddiness she once felt went down the drain in that instant. Her head lifted just then to find the other brothers exchanging glances with each other while Seraphina watched her smugly, a triumphant smile now plastered across her face.

Heat flared hot on Nyx’ara’s skin, burning all the way to the base of her stomach. Seeing as she had lost her appetite, she elegantly rose to her feet, pushed the food away from her view, and said softly; "Then I sh-shall return to my room, Alpha Draven."

The cold formal way in which she had referred to him made Draven stiffen in his chair. His eyes darkened with a mixture of rage and frustration.

Rage because he could not stand the way she was openly defying him and frustration because... yeah, she was defying him and her defiance was turning him on.

Never in his life has a woman acted this way towards him... and never, not even once, did he expect that this girl— this girl who is a supposed criminal and his sister’s murderer— would be the first.

His fingers curled around his fork tightened and he snorted. "No."

Nyx’ara flinched. Hard. But quickly regaining her composure, she continued: "I am no lo-longer hungry and find it disrespectful to-to sit here and watch you eat while I do nothing—"

"And I find it disrespectful that you’ll attempt to leave while me, your alpha, is still seated at the table. So to that effect, I command you to sit through it because we are celebrating and you must be a part of the celebration"

Something about that almost made her laugh.

Almost.

It was laughable really to watch him scramble for a little bit of control... even going as far as pushing his Alpha aura down on her. The force of it made her knees buckle but for some reason, she refused to cower.

So she gritted her teeth instead, clenched her fingers into the top of her chair, and snarled; "N-no. Why would you want a woman you d-do not care for to be celebrating w-with you?"

"Nyx’ara—"

"Moreover I-I do not see any party, so why do I have to sit here in m-my damp clothes and pretend l-like there’s a DJ somewhere playing Water by Tyla?" She snapped, and this time, Rhys could not help himself. His smile had bloomed so much, it almost cracked his face into two.

Azriel and Kieran, on the other hand, were literally wheezing due to suppressed laughter while Draven stood there caught between being furious and amused... and goddess, he wouldn’t lie, his respect for her had peaked to some extent as well.

He could not help the way the corners of his lips lifted, but unwilling to be defied right in front of everyone, including the few servants scattered around, he rose from his seat, rounded the table, and then clasped his fingers around her neck.

Her hot skin burned the tips of his fingers and her breath, warm and dangerously close, fanned his skin until goosebumps were scattered everywhere.

A deep-throated grunt slipped past his lips as soon as his fingers made contact with her skin. But do you know the part of him that reacted the most to her touch?

Not his dick, you perverted little monster...

It is his wolf.

His bloody wolf.

His wolf thrashed within the confines of their bond, wanting to be let out. Its large head slammed against the wall of his chest over and over again with the desperate need to be close to her.

She smelled like muffins and blueberries... and goddess at the moment, there was nothing Draven wanted more than to have a taste of a blueberry.

He let go of her quickly like she burned, ignoring the flushed look on her face. Her face was pale and white from not getting enough blood circulation in the past minute and she gulped in greedy amounts of air when he let go of her.

"If you want to go to your room then go! But make sure you’re prepared for the grand celebration on Sunday evening!"

His voice boomed around the room, washing across her skin like a thousand lashes all at once. She lifted her head to meet his gaze and when she found him staring at her, his eyes cold, she hissed;

"Why?"

"Do I have to keep reminding you that you’re our wife?!" He snarled, but before she could come up with a retort, an amused Rhys beat her to it.

He seethed; "We have to keep reminding her because she keeps forgetting about it. And do you know why she keeps forgetting about it?" He asked, and when no one would respond, he added;

"Because we haven’t mated with her yet. Today is Friday and we should. We should consummate this marriage—"

"Rhys..." Kieran snapped,

"I will not be a coward and pretend like I am not sexually attracted to her. I am. In fact, right now, my dick is hard from watching her walking around looking all wet and drippy. So let’s do it."

"No, we shouldn’t! I’d rather chew stones than bed an unwilling woman."

"Oh, she won’t be unwilling!" Rhys shot back as he leaned into his chair and raked his eyes across her body. His actions made a storm of fire to rage on Nyx’ara’s cheeks.

She lowered her head, hating the way her insides twisted into the tightest knot ever. But ignoring it, she snarled;

"I-I am still here!" She cried, "...and I am a person... not an object that you would talk about like I am not worth shit!"

The room went quiet as soon as her voice rang out and then she turned around and left, leaving all of them staring at her in bewilderment.

But there was one person who wasn’t bewildered. They were enraged.

And it was Seraphina.