Chapter 5 Sucking Cock
Lyra's POV
The traditional wolf ceremony dress felt heavy against my skin as I entered the Blackthorne family gathering. The deep emerald fabric was beautifully embroidered with silver thread in ancient pack symbols, but it might as well have been a costume. I was playing a role I no longer believed in.
"Hold your head high," my wolf urged. "Don't let them see how broken we are."
"I'm trying," I whispered back silently.
Owen Blackthorne moved toward me. His smile was warm as he reached for my hand.
"Lyra, my dear," he said, kissing my knuckles. "You look beautiful tonight. The traditional attire suits you."
"Thank you," I replied.
"The alpha succession ceremony will be upon us soon. Your medical achievements will be recognized before my son's official Alpha transition. We're all very proud."
He genuinely means it, my wolf noted. They actually value us.
Clara appeared beside her husband in deep burgundy attire that complemented her silver hair. Her eyes searched mine.
"Lyra, are you feeling well? You seem... There's sadness in your eyes."
My heart stuttered. Was I that transparent? Before I could answer, a strong arm slid around my waist.
"There you are," Dorian said. "I've been looking for you."
The contact made me stiffen. Through my dress, his touch burned like ice.
"Your mate looks stunning tonight," Owen remarked.
"Always," Dorian replied smoothly, his thumb tracing circles on my hip.The gesture might appear affectionate but felt like a warning.
Caleb approached with a glass in hand, his smile a welcome relief from the pretense.
"The star medical student and my cousin's beautiful mate, How's the arranged bond treating you? The trial period is almost over, right? Bet you'll both be celebrating freedom soon."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Owen set down his glass with deliberate care, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet.
"Caleb, that was thoughtless even by your standards." His gaze shifted to Dorian, and I felt my trial mate stiffen beside me. "Son, loyalty and consistency are among the most important qualities an Alpha can possess. If you can't maintain stability in your own home, how can the pack trust you to lead them?"
The rebuke was gentle but unmistakable. "A true Alpha commits completely to his chosen mate. There should be no question, no uncertainty. Your bond with Lyra should be unshakeable."
Dorian's fingers tightened on my back. "Of course, Father. Lyra and I are completely committed to each other. Aren't we, darling?"
The endearment felt like poison on his lips. He was giving me a chance to support his lie, to play the happy trial mate for his family's benefit. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for my response.
"Everything is in the Moon Goddess's hands," I said carefully. "We can only trust in her wisdom."
It wasn't the enthusiastic agreement Dorian had been hoping for. I felt his displeasure radiate through our bond.
"Why didn't we just lie?" my wolf asked anxiously. "Now he's furious."
"Because I'm tired of pretending," I replied. "If this ends badly, at least it will be honest."
The conversation moved on to safer topics, but I could feel Dorian's simmering anger. When he suggested we take a walk to get some air, I knew I was in trouble.
The Moonlight Grove was beautiful in the evening light, silver pine trees creating a natural cathedral around us.
"Run," my wolf urged suddenly. "Something's wrong. His scent... run now."
But it was too late. Dorian's hand shot out, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face him. Before I could react, he'd pushed me back against the rough bark of an ancient pine, his body caging me in.
"What game are you playing? That performance back there, in front of my family. What was that supposed to accomplish?"
"I wasn't playing any game, I just told the truth."
"The truth? The truth is that you tried to trap me with lies about pregnancy. The truth is that you're nothing but a scheming little..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but his intentions became clear as his hands moved to his belt.
I felt my body betray me, my knees weakening, my will crumbling. He pushed me down until I was kneeling between his legs.
"You will kneel," he commanded. "And you will show them that you are mine, and mine alone."
He unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection, hot and heavy, a thick vein pulsing down its length. He instructed me to circle my hand around the base of it, and I did, my fingers barely meeting. The heat of him was overwhelming.
My palm tingled with a phantom ache, and I found myself unable to do more than weakly caress him. I swallowed and leaned forward, my tongue flicking out to trace the slick head of his penis, taking in the pre-cum that beaded at the tip.
My body, a traitorous thing, was already slick with a desire I didn't want. The scent of sweet arousal filled the air, thick and cloying. I started at the head, licking every inch of him, my tongue gliding over the pulsating length of his shaft.
My mind was empty, focusing only on the rhythm of my movements, the strange, detached ache of my jaw. When he started to thrust his hips, I opened my mouth wider, taking him deeper inside me.
I tried to pull back, gasping for air, but his hand shot out and clamped down on the back of my head. He slammed my head forward, the sudden movement nearly making me gag. My body trembled, trying to resist the brutal command. My wolf cried out, trapped and helpless.
"Mine," his wolf snarled. "You are all mine, and you will learn to obey."
He thrust forward again, hard. The pain was immediate and excruciating, a white-hot spear driven down my throat, stealing what little breath I had. The back of my skull slammed against the tree trunk, over and over, with each violent thrust, a relentless pounding.
I clawed at the bark, digging my fingernails into the rough ridges as tears streamed from my eyes. A guttural sob escaped me, and I felt him shudder, his climax a hot, sticky explosion deep in my throat.
He pulled back, his hand releasing my hair, and I crumpled to the ground, coughing uncontrollably. My lungs burned, and the taste of him was bitter on my tongue.
He adjusted his pants, and reached a hand out and shoved my shoulder, pushing me away.