the tall beastly man with a calm façade, she knew that her earlier behaviour had made him weary of her. She really wished he hadn't seen her acting like that but, such was life. Her treatment of the nurse was minor compared to the absence of her siblings. Maybe it would serve as a warning to him.

Neema's mind ran wild with all the possibilities of what could be happening to them, she knew they wouldn't be tortured like her but what if they had been sent away. Sent to some sick wolf facility that brainwashed children into believing their warped views of life. Gods forbid her siblings wouldn't recognise her by the time she dealt with the bulky man in front of her. She couldn't bare to think of what could have happened to them and that poor little girl.

Her body was so small and frail, there was no way she could have fought off a wolf if they tried to take them from her. What if they decided to take the little girl and breed her? The poor little angel wouldn't be able to survive in this harsh world, not alone.

Clearing her throat, Neema realised that the tall beastly man before her still hadn't answered her question. Instead he just stood by staring at her with a hint of humour in his eyes, as if he found her predicament funny. Neema tried to control the rage she felt building inside her at his mocking. She wanted to bring him to heel but his aura suggested that he was not some weakling who would take demands or her lashing out at him. So she bit her lip and plastered the sincerest and most apologetic look she could muster on her face. She even batted her lashes to show she was not as feral as she seemed. Deep down though her blood was bubbling with the need, the hunger to attack him.

His silence was nerve wracking but she had to be patient.

Neema watched him with her keen eye. Her dad had told her that a quiet person was one who should be treated with caution. In all her 22 years of life she had never imagined that she would ever agree with her father, until this day. She could tell that the dark haired man was a force to be reckoned with, one who did not take prisoners. No, he would crush resistance in the palm of his hands like it was nothing but a nuisance, a pesky fly. Neema could tell he was dangerous. She could tell it in the way the air vibrated around him, with untamed energy. The way his strong arms flexed across his chest and in the way his eyes flickered between that hauntingly hazel colour and furious red.

He stood by the door casually leaning on the frame but his sharp eyes never remained still. The hazel of his eyes shining with a cynical glint, a clear indication of the power he wielded.

His posture said he was bored but his aura screamed violence, carnage... Destruction. She would heed his warning. For now.

His eyes and his aura demanded attention. If one could overlook the two, which Neema was having great difficulty with, you could almost call him handsome. Not in the boyish and clean ways of what her mother referred to as "models" in her tales of the old world. Nor was he masculine in the way of Victus and the hunters in her compound. No he was otherworldly. He was ridiculously tall and imposing, with shoulders like tables and arms just as thick. He reminded her of an untamed bear. His deep chocolate skin glistened with health and warmth, framed by a wildly un-groomed beard. The dark hairs covered his chin, and shrouded most of his face.

Neema found his lips appealing. From what she could see they were thick and wide. Impossibly thick. Lips that were possibly more suited to a woman but did not deduct from his masculinity. Somehow they enhanced it, making him more tempting. From her distance they looked chapped, as if he had been dying of thirst, and he looked at her as if she could quench it.

The man seemed to be riddled in scars, the skin that wasn't covered by his facial hair was riddled by small jagged cuts. As if they were battle scars he was proud of. The jagged scar from his forehead to eyebrow seemingly being the biggest. Yet Neema was sure that his body would be the same as his face if not worse.

Yes, if one could overlook his imposing presence he would definitely be considered an attractive man.

"Are you quite finished yet? You will not find the secrets of your sibling's whereabouts on my body" Khan snarled.

At his tone, Neema felt her body snapping into a straight upright position, her muscles feeling tense. She realised that in the time she had been analysing him he had moved from the door into the centre of the room. He stood much closer to the bed, his atmosphere nearly suffocating her with its stifling authority. She felt so stupid. She was too concerned with eyeing him as if he was her last meal, she barely noticed that he had moved closer. A dangerous man like the one before her could not be left unattended.

She had to pay more attention to his discreet moves.

"I'm quite aware your body doesn't hold any answers" she pronounced in a clear voice.

Neema refused to be ashamed of being caught in her perusal of him, she was only human and he was a very attractive man. Still she knew that from now on out she had to be more cautious around him.

Removing her body from the bed she felt liquid fire travel from her spine all throughout her back. Gritting her teeth and wiping the perspiration from her brow, she moved to stand before him. Heaving out a deep sigh she placed her small palm against his chest and titled her head to gain eye contact.

"I'm sorry for my previous behaviour, but my siblings are everything to me, please give them to me" she mumbled.

Her thumb stroking his left pectoral as she spoke. She found that no force or mental preparation was needed to try and seduce the man before her. Her body was willing with out her direction. Craving, hungering for the opportunity to touch him. Her thumb stroked his chest subconsciously, and she loved the feeling it gave her.

His scent enticed her, it caused her mouth to water and her eyes to dilate. It was crazy the affect he had on her, no man could boast the same. No one.

It was as if khan was purposely created to arouse her and her only. Of course that was absurd. No one man belonged to one single woman, they forged bonds. They did not just manifest from thin air and strike a body into carnal desire. Yet here she stood. Carnally ravenous for this man before her, she only hoped he felt it too.

Khan looked down at the little witch in front of him, she thought to beguile him with her soothing voice and erotic touch. Maybe on a mere mortal man it would work, but Khan was above the enchantresses' behaviour. Though her touch did elicit tingles of warmth through his body, he ignored it. It was not as easy as swatting a fly. No it could never be so simple. Not when he felt her touch on his skin all the way the way down to the deepest pits of his soul. Her gentle fingers stoked his body to a fevered pitch and his nose was intoxicated by her scent. She was an aphrodisiac in itself, but Khan was a trained warrior.

He would not be played.

Bringing his right hand up he slowly stroked her fingers, noticing that her eyes widened at his touch and her nostrils flared. Her tongue flicked out as she licked her bottom lip before sinking her teeth into it. Her pretty pink tongue invited him to plunge the depths of her mouth with his. He didn't. Instead khan grasped her wrist and abruptly removed it from his body.

"You think to enchant me with your bewitching touch but I will not be lured into your little games. You think to humble yourself to get information from me and to apologise! Hah, for what?"

His voice growled as his sweet breath fanned her face. His lips touching her face so softly before he pulled his head backwards and shot her a ferocious scowl.

"Not for anything you have done but for being caught! Do not play with me little human" he grumbled out as he forced her body to his. Her chest lay against his abdomen and his hips lay along her belly. Flexing his hips into her skin, he gripped her tighter, letting her feel him as he stared into her eyes.

Eyes filled with such anger and derision, he was mad at her but he was also aroused. The mixture of scents wafting into the air and flitting past her nose. It was a battle of dominance and Neema stood no chance, she was not even sure if she wanted to win.

Khan could see her eyes shimmering with pent up resentment, she was biting her lip in a bid to control her reactions. Her desire for him overwhelmed the rage she felt, but it was not her lust that khan wanted. He wanted her fire, her ire and her anger.

Her determination to subdue her fury was appreciated but he wanted to snap her well placed control and break the haze of lust that circled in her eyes.

"Your siblings are mine to do with as I wish, just as you are little mate. Challenge me and you shall feel my wrath" Khan deadpanned.

His canines protruding over his lip as he snarled at her, the warning of retribution clear on his lips. He challenged her, taunted her. He wanted to see her wild and untamed so he could unravel her mind and subdue her, he wanted her to fly off the rails so he could slap her back into submission. This was his first show of dominance and it was a calculated trap, one that Neema fell into.

A piercing screech left her mouth like a battle cry as she launched herself at him, her body reacted before she could even think about what she was doing she was screaming, scratching, lashing out like a possessed banshee. She wanted to shred his cool indifference and spit on the authority he had over her. She wanted to scar him, maim him so every time he looked in the mirror or touched his face he would remember her. Her bloodlust was cloying to her skin as she continued attacking. Her rage fuelled actions were sloppy, her training left behind but still she managed to get a swipe at his top lip before he had her arms in his clenched fists.

Spinning her round so her back was along his chest, he wrapped his arms across her breastbone. Her back thudded against his chest send a sharp ripple of pain along her spine, she felt blood ebb from her back as Khan's arms squeezed her tight as if to stop her air supply. Gripping her head with his left hand he harshly twisted her face towards him, their noses nearly touched and she could almost smell the excitement off his skin. His eyes gleamed with delirium and viscous intent. His hand along her chest glided over her breasts and up her collarbone until he reached her neck, his thick fingers flexed over her throat as he tilted her head to the side. The veins in her neck throbbed as she tried to gasp for breath, he tightened his hold until Neema thought she would collapse without air. There was a ringing in her ears as she tried to claw at his fingers, her nails biting into his forearm as she sputtered for air.

Releasing his tight hold, he viciously gripped her chest as he yanked her head back by her hair and her head slammed into his heavy chest.

"Mmm little witch, I warned you not to play with me" he growled over her face.

The warmth of his breath heating her cheeks as he nuzzled his face into her neck and slackened his hold across her chest. The fingers of his left hand trailed across her side, travelling under her top and stroking her flat stomach and protruding ribs. Pushing her back to his front, he thrust his hips into her as his hands glided downwards. His warm hand resting just inside her trouser line as he ground himself against her, flexing the heaviness of his essence against her supple body. Khan was amazed that she still held the capacity to continue fighting him, her body was too malnourished to be much resistance and they both knew it. Neema was all dry skin and bones but his mate still fought on, she was insane.

"No more fighting hmm, you're mine now" he whispered in her ear as he gently bit the lobe.

For a minute Neema felt her body melt into his warmth, the promise of finally being touched by male hands were a craving she struggled to battle with but the rage had settled deep. All thoughts of intimacy and how good his skin felt along hers were secondary to the veiled threat of his previous words. Neema would not be his, he would not take from her as if he had no need of her permission, no, she would make him beg for it. He thought he was her master but she was no slave.

Her elbow lodged into his stomach as she bellowed the first thing that came to mind.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to be some bloody psychotic mutts mate!"

Neema's head was pounding her, her back no longer the main injury on her body though it still throbbed ferociously. The blood from her scalp and wounds clung to the thin top she had been placed in after they re-stitched her back.

After telling him her opinion of him, he had showed her how badly he liked the challenge she represented by pulling out half the hair on her head. It seemed that wolves liked their women bald because if one more man pulled on her hair she was sure she would have none left. Her head was still tender from being yanked at earlier and now he had added to the wounds, her head felt tender and she was sure he had cut parts of her scalp. Although her head no longer bled, she could feel the dry scabs clumping her hair together.

Neema reluctantly followed the small bubbly woman down the corridor, the tiny woman was accompanied by a tall red haired man who kept shooting glares over his shoulder at every given opportunity. He clearly blamed her for his position but it wasn't her fault he had to babysit the woman. No female would voluntarily walk with a "hostile captive", well not alone.

Neema wanted to know where her siblings were but knew she wasn't going to get anything out of anyone. The only way she would get information was if she pretended to be a willing mate. She knew her reputation for being violent now preceded her but maybe she could act as if she had a change of heart though it was unlikely anyone would believe her, it was the best shot she had.

Her siblings were all she had left in this world and without them she could not exist, she did not want to. It was in the wolfs best interest to return them to her, otherwise she would not think twice about killing him in his sleep, that was if she even let him live long enough to see the night. She would simply bide her time until she got him alone again, only this time she would not play fair. If she had to pretend to be a 'pacified' mate in order to get to Caillum and Jana she would, but she would make him rue the day he tried to keep them from her.

"And then while you are, you know doing it... he will bite you in front of everyone to show his claim." Gushed out the ditsy little black haired woman she was following.

Neema had tuned out the woman's ramblings as she thought of her siblings and occasionally wondered on the young blonde girl however, the mention of having sex in front of a wild crowd quickly brought her back to the present. There was no way in the Gods name would she do it, she could not, she refused to be humiliated and sodomised by some barbaric animal. These wolves were living in some archaic world if they thought a woman would willingly lay with a man she did not know or like, especially in front of a crowd.

Neema had always subconsciously known that she would have had to lay with the wolf at some point and as much as she would not have wanted to she would have abided his touch when the time came. She just did not realise how soon that time would be or the circumstances surrounding her first time. If she was honest enough she could even admit that she would possibly enjoy it, his touch was like a craving she had never felt before. with a little prompting she knew she could enjoy sex with this wolf who claimed her buts he would never willingly allow it in front a den of feral animals. She could accept the rape if it meant being with her siblings after but she could not do that, she had never witnessed a mating, nor did she want to feature in her own show.

Her head became fuzzy as she clutched her chest, panic rising through her body, she just did not see how she could ever do that but there seemed to be no other choice. Her desperation to see her siblings meant that she would accept all kinds of things. Tears dripped down her face as she imagined all their crazed eyes staring at her with lust as she was pummelled by the beast of a wolf she had to call mate. In this moment she wished she could feel the supposed bond all mates felt. How could they make women do this, surely there had to be another way.

Neema's body tumbled into one of the corridor walls as she propped herself up against it, her eyes closed tight as she tried to regulate her breathing and get her stomach to rest. The black haired female had continued to chat a mile a minute not noticing or caring that Neema was hunched over the wall and paler than death itself.

"It is your scent that determines your mate, the stronger the scent is to a male wolf the stronger the pup you bare him will be. One whiff and they just know" Sahina sighed longingly as her eyes glazed over with a memory. Her wistful voice continued on as Neema stared on in abject horror.

There was no hope for her, none. This man would brutally take what was left of her innocence in front of his brethren and then fill her with his satanic spawn.

It was no surprise that a wolf recognised his mate out of the genetic compatibility for procreation, it was all they cared about after all. That and dominance, which was why Neema should not have been shocked that he would take her in front of everyone to prove his authority, his ownership over her and any children she gave him.

It was archaic, primal, derogatory and Neema had to prepare herself for the demeaning encounter.

But how could anyone prepare themselves for that.