Nathan's POV
Right before my eyes, my father's heart was ripped from his chest. And I?
I stood there, frozen. Helpless.
I wanted to scream, to cry, to attack him, but what would be the point? I was wolfless, powerless—nothing but a broken man standing before a beast. Even if I had my wolf, I wouldn't have stood a chance.
Derick crouched before me, his piercing green eyes glinting with satisfaction.
"Tell me, Nathan…" His voice was low, dangerous. "What should I do to you?"
I stared at him, my vision blurred with tears, my chest heaving with grief. I should hate him. I should curse his name. He had just murdered my father before my eyes.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't blame him.
He was driven by revenge. And if I were in his shoes, I might have done the same.
My lips trembled, but when I spoke, my voice was steady. "You're a monster."
Something in his expression shifted, his jaw tightening, but I wasn't done.
"Do your worst," I spat, already prepared to die. "What more can you do? Kill me? Go ahead." I let out a bitter laugh. "You've already taken everything. There's nothing left."
His nostrils flared, his eyes filled with a different type of rage.
"You really think death is the worst I can do?" His voice was a low growl, promising something far worse than death.
And then, he moved.
Faster than I could react, his hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt. I barely had time to gasp before he yanked me forward, dragging me toward the grand staircase with inhuman strength.
My feet stumbled against the marble, but he didn't slow.
I struggled against his hold, but it was useless. His grip was inhumanly strong, his anger suffocating. His men stood still, their expressions blank, not daring to interfere.
I could hear my own ragged breaths as he pulled me down the hallway, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Then, he stopped.
The first door.
My room.
He slammed it open with one violent push and threw me inside. I barely caught my footing before I stumbled backward, crashing onto the bed.
My bed.
The door slammed shut behind him, and when I looked up, he was looming over me, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained anger.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to sit up. "What now, Derick?" I sneered, my voice laced with anger. "Going to kill me in my own bed? How poetic."
I knew I was provoking him, and I recalled that even as a child, Derick had hated being taunted. But I didn't care. The anger, the grief in me, refused to let me stop.
"Do your worst, Derick! I'm ready to die!" I dared.
But he didn't answer.
And somehow, his silence was more terrifying than his words.
My heart raced as I noticed his hand moving, gripping his Dick, stroking himself. My breath hitched, my brows drawing together in confusion.
What the hell was he doing?
Before I could react, Derick climbed onto the bed, pinning me beneath him.
I struggled, but I was no match for him. With a growl of frustration, he tore my shirt open, the fabric ripping like paper. I gasped, my body jolting. One of his hands clamped around my wrists, forcing them above my head, while the other moved to my pants.
I felt the zipper slide down. Then, with brutal strength, he tore them apart.
I struggled harder, but he caught my chin in his free hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. His green eyes burned with something dark.
"My mother was raped by your father," he hissed, his breath hot against my face. "She was taken brutally before my eyes. And then she was killed." His grip tightened, his nails biting into my skin. "Now, I will do the same to you before I kill you."he spat.
My eyes widened.
Did I hear him right?
He… wants to…
I barely had time to react before he tore my underwear from my body, leaving me naked under him.
I struggled, but his strength was unimaginable. He turned me effortlessly, pressing my stomach against the bed. Before I could fight back, he bound my wrists to the headboard using torn pieces of my clothes. I thrashed, but the knots were tight,
"Derick… What… are… you doing…" My voice trembled, but there was only silence.
The room felt suffocating, thick with tension. Then I felt it—his rough hands parting my legs wider, his body pressing closer. Panic surged through me as I felt the tip of his length at my entrance.
My heart raced. I tried to move, but he had me pinned, my face buried in the pillow.
With a brutal force, he yanked me closer to himself and forcefully inserted himself into me without preparation.
"Ahhhh," I exclaimed in pain, but he kept pushing himself in until his full length was entirely inside me, forcing my body to take him.
He groaned, but I couldn't tell if it was from satisfaction or rage. He pulled out, then thrust back in—harder. I gasped, the unbearable pain stealing my breath, but when I tried to cry out, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back.
"One more sound, and I'll fuck you to death," he growled before shoving my face back down.
Tears burned my eyes, but I bit my lip, swallowing the agony.
"Your father is dead, but I bet he can see this," he sneered, his thrusts growing rougher. "His precious son being brutally fucked." he grunted as he pulled out and then plunged forcefully inside me. I muffled my pain and felt him thrust in and out of me as he aggressively took me. He grabbed my hair and gripped it tightly as he slammed harder.
Discomfort consumed my entire being as the pain from his hard thrusts became unbearable. I could hear his grunts as he struggled to thrust in and out of me. I wanted to cry, shout, and scream, but I realized I was too weak and broken to say a word. All I could do was remain silent while he had his way with me in the most brutal way.
"Blame your father for this. He is the reason you are going through this," he grunted and held my waist tightly. "And you, his precious son, will pay for it," he groaned and slammed deeper, the bed squeaking from the effect of his hard thrusts.
"You…" He couldn't finish his words as a moan left his lips, but it was soon replaced by a grunt.
He continued slamming harder inside me, his angry grunts and groans echoing in the room for several minutes while I remained numb until he suddenly stopped and aggressively pulled out of me, leaving me collapsed on the bed, muffling my tears.
With panting breaths, I waited for his next action, but instead, his grip on my waist loosened. I couldn't move; I just remained collapsed on the bed as my whole body trembled with pain.
I felt him leave the bed, but I didn't turn, not even when I heard footsteps entering the room.
"Watch him," Derick commanded behind me, but I didn't hear his other words because I slipped into unconsciousness.