Bellatrix Sinclair

Today would decide my fate, the genetic screening for the mate selection was taking place. Before I left the medical room last night, Colton had to administer a shot to prevent any swelling for the next forty-eight hours otherwise my face would have puffed like a blowfish.

However, like this day, the bruises on my face were unescapable. An ugly swirl of purple and black colouring my cheeks and stretching to my left eye, quickly applying an entire tube of concealer over them.

I couldn't have any imperfections. For the genetic screening, humans were required to be pristine in order to make the choice easier for werewolves. Reiterating the notion that they were truly vain, only caring about appearances instead of what truly mattered.

Giving myself a onceover in the mirror, the thick layer of concealer I put on my skin made it impossibly pale, making me appear sickly. Rummaging through the mess on my table, snatching the contour and carving more defined cheekbones, bronzing the outer layer and applying some liquid blush to bring life back to my face.

Makeup was an artistry I perfected, making myself unrecognisable.

____________________________________________________

The screening took place in a massive venue, a sea of people awaiting testing. Bonnie stood behind me, repeatedly tapping at my shoulder, "Hey Trix, can you give me the necklace now? it's easier than waiting last minute till we reach the end. Plus, I need it to complete my outfit."

Bonnie was never one to pay attention to social cues or others for that matter. I wasn't oblivious to her selfishness, her ability to only care about herself. Pressing my lips tightly together, unable to answer because I might lose my temper on her.

"Bellatrix," she seethed, "Where is my necklace? Don't tell me you lied."

Taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing in my chest. If I didn't respond to her, Bonnie would continue to pester me, and it will only get worse from here. Pivoting to meet her bitter gaze, her features pinched in displeasure. "Where is it?" she gritted.

"I don't have it." I reply, lips thinning.

Her crystalized sapphires burned with vexation, "Why the fuck not? I told you how fucking important this was for me." She snarled with an incensed tone.

Furrowing my brows at her audacity, I scoff in a broken chuckle. "You have no idea what I go through to make you happy."

"Don't act like you do much for me." She said indignantly.

My eyes widened, "Are you fucking serious? I do everything for you." I snapped. "I'm always bending over backwards to please you and make you happy. When have you ever done anything for me?"

"I'm always here for you, I don't think you realize how exhausting you are Bellatrix." Her barbed voice contested, deliberately plunging a knife to my heart. "If it wasn't for me, you would be completely alone because who would want you."

My lips part involuntarily, I prided myself on being impenetrable but lately the cracks are showing in my armour. For my sister whom I love dearly to say this to me, it was a punch to the gut. Nothing would shatter my resolve, but Bonnie was becoming an expert at torture behind the cloak of invisibility.

"I'm tired of walking on eggshells around you." She callously said. "You're so damn useless and depressing that I should get a damn meddle for putting up with you for this long."

Grinding my teeth, "Should I bow down to you and beg for your forgiveness?" I questioned sarcastically, "I wondered how a selfish brat like yourself lasted this long."

I was being spiteful, squashing the guilt and sorrow that soured my heart. Bonnie laughed sinisterly, "I might be a brat, but you have always caused problems for others. We couldn't even get adopted because you were so selfish and only thought about yourself. I could have had a better life if it wasn't for you." She spat bitterly.

"I know you like to delude yourself into thinking everything is my fault but don't get it twisted. If it wasn't for me, you would have starved to death at the orphanage." I sneered with a glare.

"Bonnie Sinclair." The announcer called.

Bonnie smirked at me, "I'll become a werewolf's mate and then I can finally rid myself of your pathetic ass once and for all."

She climbed the ten steps leading towards the gigantic platform. My eyes stung, blinking repeatedly to rid myself of shedding tears. "I'm not going to fucking cry at this, I'm not weak." I muttered, taking deep breaths to control a semblance of my emotions.

It seemed like eons before they Bonnie's results were announced, "No Matches Found."

Bonnie was fuming, stomping down the steps and mumbling to herself. This was her moment, she dolled herself up to become a wolfs mate and her efforts were futile. "This is all your fucking fault." She growled in my direction.

"Bellatrix Sinclair."

My feet were moving of their own accord, like I wasn't in control. Every muscle tensed, holding my breath for what seemed like ages. My heart racing impossibly loud that it resounded in my ears, it was eager to break bone and burst from my chest.

The instructors were comprised of a slender female and a lean male. They both had matching chocolate brown hair and hazelnut eyes, presumably siblings. "Please give us a sample of your blood." Her monotoned voice motioned towards the device.

There was a large cylinder in front of me, a life-sized lava lamp comprised of dark purple. I knew from others that it flashed red when you weren't a wolf's mate and green when you were. The man grabbed my hand, his grasp light and feathery.

A black rectangular screen imbedded into the clear podium before the cylinder, he uncurled my clammy hands and took out a pen that resembled the ones diabetics used to inject insulin. I barely felt the pricking of my finger, my mind racing with a million thoughts. Swallowing thickly, every inch of my body thrusted into an inferno.

He places my index finger onto the screen, making a swiping motion to showcase the streak of blood. A white scanner slings across the screen, processing my blood. For the purpose of this screening, all werewolves blood was recorded into the system like humans. They match your blood cells against theirs, determining if there is a compatibility.

"Please be red. Please be red." I chanted desperately.

Suddenly, the lava lamp bubbles change into a radiant gold. A colour I hadn't seen before.

"Congratulation." She beamed, "You are matched with a high-ranking werewolf."

I stare blankly at her, there is no fucking way. This cannot be happening; I feel like I'm going to pass out.

"What!" Bonnie shouted, outraged. "That's not fucking fair, she doesn't deserve this!"

Bonnie face contoured with jealousy, malice leaking from her orbs. "She is a traitor." Bonnie bellowed, pointing a finger at me which garnered the attention of all the guards. "She is in possession of weapons and has been illegally working on them for years. Bellatrix is not worthy of being a high-ranking werewolf's mate, she needs to be imprisoned for breaking the law."

My eyes widened, bulging from their sockets as the shock charges every cell in my body. I couldn't breathe properly, my thoughts in disarray and unable to process the betrayal. Hastily scanning my surroundings, every guard rushing towards me.

Hell fucking no. I didn't get this far to be imprisoned because my sister couldn't understand the difference that being a human mate wasn't a fucking privilege – it was death sentence.

Blinded by her wicked smile, my body vibrating as they attempted to restrain me. The icy metal cuffs touching my wrists, and I panic, kicking one guy in the shin and headbutting the other. My head was pounding but I didn't care, I needed to escape.

Making a dash down the stairs and towards the double doors. The guards were coming for me at every direction, twisting my head profusely to ensure they didn't catch me. Fleeing was my only option; I could only hope that I could find the rebellion group before they kill me.

Suddenly, I slam into a hard chest. Dizzy from the pain and stress, I barely register the deep raspy voice.

"Mate." He proclaimed, his searing fingers curling around my biceps and restraining me.

I pale as the word echoes like a haunted melody, my body freezing from shock and my heart leaping into my throat. Dread filtering through my bloodstream like poison.

Because the man who called me his mate, the man with piercing black eyes staring into my soul.

It was Lazarus de Loughrey – the Werewolf King.

And I was his human mate.

Bellatrix Sinclair

Fuck no, the universe was playing a twisted a game and I wasn't going to be a part of it.

Under the intensity of his intimidating gaze, I declare, "I, Bellatrix Sinclair, reject you, Lazarus de Loughrey, as my mate."

Everyone gasps in shock while I lost all ability to breathe. His obsidian eyes burned with the essence of rage, "You think you can reject me human." He snarled menacingly, "You are mine if I want you. Humans don't get to oppose the Mate Selection; you don't have a choice."

Trepidation was rapidly consuming me from the revelation that I was the Werewolf King's human mate, however his words had shattered the cloud of dread. Now I was fucking pissed. My blood was boiling, igniting a fire in my belly that spread like wildfire.

"And whose fault is that?" I snapped unconsciously with a bitter tone.

Lazarus's eyes darkened malevolently; sparks explode from his fingertips as they curl around my bicep with a punishing grip that I can't escape from as he drags me out of the doors and away from the crowd. Guards close them behind us, giving us privacy.

And I wasn't going to keep quiet, he will feel my fury.

He lets me go and the sparks instantly disappear, making me question if they were a figment of my imagination. However, he wasn't granting me mercy because in this solitude – I had to face his wrath.

"You, human, dare defy me, dare reject me. You need to be reminded who owns you, you should beg for my mercy after that fucking stunt." He spat venomously.

"Mercy?" I scoffed condescendingly. "Your majesty, you don't know the meaning of something you never enforced. Don't hold your breath because I won't be begging for anything."

He chuckled darkly, a deeply sinful sound. "Oh Bellatrix, I was going to give you an out, I was going to reject you. But you need to be disciplined, you need to face the consequences of your actions."

Lazarus's eyes grew cold, "You are weak, you are useless like all the other humans. There are no choices for you. That little tantrum did nothing but showcase your stupidity, you have no power to reject me." He stated callously, his lips twisting into a devilish grin, "I own you now human."

He shredded the threads of my self-control, letting my hatred wreak havoc upon my insides until I was violently shaking. "I HATE YOU!" I roared, pounding my fists against his chest over and over.

He let out a scornful laugh, "Scream and cry all you want. No one will save you."

"I would rather die than ever be your mate." I spat, my voice dripping with venom as I glared at him with pure disdain.

"That can be arranged," he seethed.

I exploded into a fit of rage, feral screams tearing my lungs as I lunged for him. My mind was racing, unable to process anything aside from causing him harm. Biting, kicking, punishing, scratching – I didn't care if he was King, I wasn't going to be his breeding machine.

My emotions were too overwhelming, my body unable to handle the vicious tremors. Black dots tainting my vision and my heart pounding so hard and fast that I couldn't breathe. Movements became sloppy and sluggish as my consciousness faded to black.

The incessant pounding stretched to my ears; a zealous fire cracking open my sternum. Releasing an audible gasp, drawing in a cool breath as I open my eyes. My mind groggery, slow to register my surroundings.

Staring at the ceiling of mosaic tiles, different shades of black blending into a pattern that was hypnotic. Freezing as memories rush to the surface and I'm keenly aware that this wasn't my room, it was his.

Lazarus's chambers radiated his opulence, walls replaced by floor-length windows that wrapped around me in an endless whirlpool. Fluffy clouds that imitated cotton candy as the sun descended. Silk sheets adorned my skin, a long rectangular coffee table near the window that was vertically sliced to showcase the illuminating glow of a firepit.

Everything shimmered of wealth that werewolves were privileged to. Such knowledge triggered my enmity and scorching my insides with resentment. They lived in luxury while humans lived in squabble. They enjoyed the lavishes of life at the expense of our suffering.

Boiling with rage that had my body quaking, heavy breathing as I stewed in silence. "You seem angry?" his rich voice teased.

"Behold, his majesty." I mocked dryly, watching him come into view.

Lazarus closes the distance and captures my chin, forcing us to lock eyes. "That attitude of yours will only get you in more trouble." His voice acidic, steeped in malice. "You better get familiar with this place Bellatrix, because until you give me an heir – this is your prison."

"Fuck you."

He smirks, "I plan to."

Lazarus's fingers slip from my chin, walking over to the single leather sofa near the fireplace. His mischievous orbs bore into mine as he crossed his ankle over the knee, exuding an affirmative energy was suffocating.

There was something diabolical about the mask he portrayed behind that dark humour. I was skilled at reading people therefore I knew it wasn't lust dancing in eyes, it was calculation. He was studying me, the situation and the future.

"If you are successful at providing me an heir, I will consider rejecting you." He reckoned.

Rejection would mean he would discard me, giving me freedom. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "Why? As far as that goes, it's too nice for even you."

"We share a similar dislike for each other. I wasn't fond of having a human mate but alas this is my current predicament." His steely voice said.

"So, all I need to do is pop out a baby for my freedom?" I grit through my teeth.

"Freedom," he chuckles sinisterly, "There is no such thing for humans."

My lips tug into a sneer, "As long as I'm away from you, that's freedom."

Lazarus laughed, a deeply coarse sound. "I'm glad I could be of your entertainment." I retort sarcastically.

He arose from the chair with ease, advancing towards me. Lazarus traces my cheek with his fingertips, an electric current branding my skin from his touch as I'm locked in a trance. His lips curl into a malicious smirk, "You are my slave Bellatrix."

There was no escaping him. Lazarus aura was magnetic and powerful, devouring anything he set his sight on. His burly figure loomed over me, a perfectly tailored three-piece suit that blended with the night sky. He was the epitome of malevolence, jet-black hair with faded sides while the top was sleeked back except for a few strands cascading over his forehead, his face carved of stone and perfection.

However, his dark eyes were the most enchanting. They were truly evanescent, an art of sorcery and sin. Lazarus was the physical embodiment of my destruction, dragging me into an unholy abyss that the darkest parts of me craved.

Lazarus is my curse, a sickening part of me already felt corrupted by his vile soul.

Unknowingly, he captures my wrist. Tension thickening the atmosphere between us, the sugary and spicey taste of our catastrophe on my tongue as he placed my palm over his hardened cock. He throbbed against my palm, leaving me in a daze of fear and lust that I can't seem to escape. Swallowing thickly as my pussy fluttered, I shouldn't be this attracted to him, but I was.

Lazarus exhales against my ear, coating my skin in goosebumps of anticipation and arousal. "Bellatrix," his voice smooth and rich like whiskey, "Please your master." He commands.

Bellatrix Sinclair

"You are not my master." I rebuffed sharply, yanking my hand away.

Rubbing my thighs together that were greeted by dampness. I stood by my words although I would wallow in self-loathing another day. In this moment, I was completely entranced by his malevolent beauty.

The personification of darkness in the flesh.

"Is that so?" he returned, his orbs glittering with excitement, "I think you might like it."

Arching a brow as my jaw tensed, 'Why would I want you to control me when your kind has been doing it for centuries." I seethed, his ignorance only fuelling my hatred.

Lazarus's regarded me through lowered lashes, his callous fingertips caressing my thighs, stretching higher until my dress bunched at the waist. His eyes darted to my lacy panties, "Lies will get you cursed Bellatrix." He inhaled, shutting his eyes for a second.

When he opened them, pupils dilated as they pierced my own. It was magnetic, hot-blooded – dangerous. If I touched the flames, it would destroy me.

Yet, he seemed unescapable..like I wanted to be consumed by him.

He diminished the distance between us, ensuring that any oxygen I breathe was of his making. Tracing the curve of my body, brushing against my breast gently before curling his fingers around my throat. "Although, the lies are pretty from that venomous tongue." He coaxed, placing a gentle and soft kiss at the corner of my mouth.

My breath hitched, a thrill shooting down my spine like gasoline ready to explode. "I'll speak the truth then," I say, visibly agitated by my own body's betrayal, "I hate you."

Lazarus's eyes darkened with desire, "You might hate me, but your body certainly doesn't." He palms my pussy through the lace, smiling wickedly, "Bellatrix, do you know how fucking addicting this scent is? It's like cherries, wine and dark chocolate – enough to drive a man wild."

"Well, you aren't a man but a beast."

"That I am sweetheart and don't forget it." He affirmed arrogantly, pressing the pads of his fingers against the soaked spot.

My brain was seizing to function, I was a stranger to pleasure, and I never felt like this – maddened in a way that it made me dizzy. "I like you better this way." He breathed, his voice lethally hypnotic, "So pliable in my hands, so eager to release that frustration."

There must be magic behind his touch otherwise why am I getting turned on by him?

Lazarus smirks, desperation flaring in my chest and itching at my fingertips. "Must be aggravating to carry all that pent-up anger around." He chided, fingers to moving down towards my cleavage, my nipples tightening in anticipation. "Relinquish your control to me and I'll give you power of not being devoured by your thoughts."

The pounding of my heart thundered in my ears, his offer tempting as I peered through my lashes at the intensity of his inky orbs. I'm being swallowed by his abyss, his intoxicating scent of saffron that should be illegal.

I was powerless to his charm, to his way of coercion because it's like he knew what I craved before I did.

Lazarus dipped his head low, darting his tongue out to lick a path from between my breasts to my throat. I exhaled, shuddering. My mind losing its traction and thought while he dipped his hand into my panties.

"Soaking my fingers already." He teased, "Fuck, you're dripping down my wrist and I haven't even started."

I panted, "Do something, don't stop."

He ran two fingers between my folds, my clit pulsing with desperation that it stung. "I'll give you that free pass since your body is actually begging for me." he taunts, tracing my hole with his thumb. "See how it's fluttering, desperate to have my cock full it."

"Lazarus." I groaned, aggrieved. Dragging my palm down his muscular chest until I reached his hardened length. He was throbbing beneath those slacks, his abs tightening at my touch.

"I see you want to play with fire Ma Cherie." He smirked in appraisal, a taunting ember flickering in his piercing orbs, "Let's see what you can do."

He halts all movement; except he doesn't retract. Clamping my thighs together, trapping his hand at my pussy. He lifts a teasing brow, "You can use my hand to get yourself off, but I promise I can make it a thousand times better."

"Is that a challenge Lazarus?" I questioned, grinning, "Because I don't like to lose."

"It's only a challenge if you have a chance of winning." He replied smugly.

Flexing my fingers over his button and zipper, moving quickly as my rage fed my adrenaline. Lazarus cheeks flushed as I tugged him out of his boxer briefs, his expression remained composed and yet I could feel his muscles pulled taunt at my touch.

His cock throbbed, hot and scorching to the touch. Curling my fingers to make a fist, thumbing his head that was slicken with pre-cum. I wasn't going to yield in this battle, even if I was inexperienced.

The first few strokes were slow and sloppy. Lazarus was massive and it was intimidating that my fingers could barely wrap around him. "Tighter." He growled, heavy lidded, "Faster."

Following his instructions and jerking him off until my wrist ached. His velvety cock throbbed with a craving for a release, growing so fucking hard that a twisted thought made its way to my mind. I wanted him in my mouth, even if it was just the swollen red tip. I wanted to taste his desire and release that I held the power to conjure.

Transfixed by the way Lazarus's lips parted to release a breathy moan, his voracious eyes devouring my soul on impulse. "You want it don't you. I can see you aching for it."

He glances at my lips, emphasizing the innuendo while I continued to earnestly pump his length, "Fucking hell." He cursed, prying my thighs apart and thumbing my clit in controlled circles.

Releasing a needy moan, "Lazarus. Fuck."

"In due time." He responded smugly.

We moved in unison, my mind hazy as my body demanded release. Seeking it out, moving my hips further into his hands while his cock settled right above my pussy. Lazarus traces my entrance with his fingers and I'm clenching with need, begging for him to plunge them inside of me.

It's like he can read my thoughts, my strokes becoming slow as he pushes a finger inside of me. "So tight." He rasped, "That's a good girl Bellatrix."

He thrusts in a languid motion, loosening me up before pushing a second finger. Throwing my head back, trembling in his grasp. "Yes, fuck. Please." I splutter incoherently, "Oh my fucking god."

"I am your god now." Lazarus growls ardently, "Say my fucking name while you fuck my fingers."

"Lazarus," I mewl breathlessly, an insatiable yearning erupting in my chest while a fire roars in my belly.

Heat envelops my skin, his thrusts deepening, hitting a resistance that has him freezing for a second before he twists his fingers in controlled strokes while thumbing my clit in a fast pace. This was pure torment, clenching tightly around his fingers as I felt the embers of my orgasm. Fearful of this explosion, scared of the way my body was so reactive to his touch.

"You're a virgin Ma Cherie." He said, his voice filled with amusement.

"You don't fucking say." I sarcastically retort.

Lazarus moved faster, my first orgasm erupting like a volcano and blasting me into oblivion. My muscles were laxed as I saw stars, he squeezed my hand on his length and continued to fuck my fist with fervour. "Fuck, Bellatrix." He groaned loudly, his body freezing on top of me as he squirted ropes of cum onto my dress.

Dropped into an inferno of ecstasy, sweat coating my skin, overwhelmed by the sweltering heat and high I couldn't come down from.

Lazarus pants heavily, "I win." He announced, a mischievous grin that morphs into something sinister when he meets my eyes. His gaze darkening with acrimony as he scans my face, familiar spots that I knew I covered this morning.

The concealer melted off from the sweat and he was staring at my bruises. Suddenly, we were no longer in a blissful bubble, the atmosphere thickened with tension and animosity. Lazarus became an entirely different person, exuding the aura of a menacing King.

"Who did this to you Bellatrix?" He demanded angrily. "Who hurt you?"