Chapter 10 The Bite Refused
Mireya
By dawn, breathing Ivo’s scent through a cracked door was no longer enough.
My heat had teeth.
It bit through the willowbark, the cold water, and every controlled breath I took inside my locked room. Need moved under my skin with a rhythm separate from my pulse. My body clenched around emptiness until pain radiated through my pelvis and lower back.
I paced from the window to the service stair.
Six steps.
Turn.
Six steps.
Turn.
The path kept me moving and away from the bed.
The bed had become an argument.
The blankets smelled only of me because I had forbidden anyone from crossing the threshold. Blackberries and storm-wet earth saturated the linen. My body wanted another scent over it. Fir smoke. Cold iron. The alpha who had knelt outside my door and told me exactly what he wanted to do.
I hated that honesty had made him safer to want.
A cramp stopped me at the foot of the bed.
I gripped the carved post.
Heat rolled through me, hot enough to blur the walls. Slick soaked the inside of my thighs. My gland throbbed against its scar, swelling around tissue that could not stretch cleanly.
The Hunt whispered from beneath the floor.
Take him.
Not surrender.
Command.
My need wore power like a more flattering dress.
I pressed my forehead to the bedpost.
“No.”
The whisper deepened.
Call the Huntmaster. Put him on his knees. Use him.
My body answered with a hard clench.
The temptation was not Ivo.
It was control.
That made it more dangerous.
Three knocks sounded at the door.
Measured. Even.
“Mireya,” Ivo said. “Davor is downstairs.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why?”
“You asked for an outside witness before any care decision.”
The agreement.
I had written it while my body still belonged mostly to reason. Now the paper was doing what I had built it to do.
“Is Tomas with him?”
“No. You revoked Tomas’s status.”
“Where is Tomas?”
“In the crypt passage with Matija.”
“Zephan?”
“At the outer gate.”
The lodge had arranged itself around my danger.
Or Ivo had.
I did not know which possibility frightened me more.
“Has anyone entered the room?”
“No.”
“Have you touched the door?”
“No.”
“Are you armed?”
“Yes.”
“Disarm.”
Metal met the hall floor piece by piece.
Sword. Knives. Baton. Garrote. Bone pin.
I listened for a sixth weapon.
None came.
“Move back.”
His boots retreated.
I unlocked the door but kept it shut.
“Send Davor up.”
Ivo did not argue.
A minute later, Davor’s tread climbed the main stairs. I recognized the slight drag of his left boot before he spoke.
“It’s me.”
“Come to the threshold.”
He stopped outside.
“May I open the door?”
“Four inches.”
The door moved.
Davor stood alone, wearing his ward-thread coat and an expression that told me I looked worse than I felt.
That was impressive.
Ivo knelt at the far wall beyond him, empty hands on his thighs.
His scent entered through the opening.
Relief struck so hard my knees buckled.
Davor caught the door, not me.
I lowered myself to the floor.
“Close it halfway,” I said.
He did. The scent thinned.
Pain returned.
“Open.”
Relief.
“Close.”
Pain.
Davor watched my breathing.
“His compatibility is regulating the rebound.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“My body is not subtle.”
“Bodies rarely are. People make them mysterious when they dislike the answer.”
I leaned against the bed.
“What are my options?”
Davor took a folded sheet from his coat.
“Tomas prepared medical observations without recommendations. I reviewed them.”
“He gave you my information?”
“Only temperature, pulse, cycle history, and the boundary reaction. Your agreement permits observation sharing.”
I remembered the clause.
“Continue.”
“Option one: no intimate intervention. Fluids, cooling, pain management. Risk of cardiac strain, gland tearing, and loss of lucidity before peak.”
“Probability?”
“High enough that I wouldn’t choose it.”
“For yourself?”
“For anyone.”
“Option two.”
“Scent contact with Ivo at intervals. It may slow the rise but is unlikely to stabilize you through the next phase.”
“Option three.”
Davor looked past the door at Ivo.
“A temporary knot with a compatible alpha.”
My body clenched around the words.
Ivo remained motionless.
“Why him?”
“Your response last night suggests his rut pattern regulates your pre-peak.”
“And Zephan?”
“Based on the scent maps, Zephan’s compatibility is stronger at peak. Using it now could accelerate you.”
“Tomas?”
“Recovery phase.”
Each alpha fitted to a different biological need.
The arrangement was too precise to be natural.
Ines had built a path to me.
How much of my desire belonged to her design?
The question made me nauseous.
“A knot is not a bond,” Davor said.
“I know.”
“It can create temporary scent resonance.”
“I know.”
“The Hunt may try to turn the act into a claiming ritual.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me what you don’t know.”
“Whether I want him or only what his body can do.”
Davor’s expression softened.
I disliked it.
“You don’t have to solve that for the rest of your life,” he said. “You have to answer it for this act.”
“That’s irritatingly sensible.”
“It’s why you brought me.”
I looked toward Ivo.
He had lowered his gaze to the floor, giving me privacy he could not physically provide.
“Leave us the hall,” I told Davor. “Stay at the stairs.”
“Door open?”
“Yes.”
“Call if you need me.”
“I will.”
Davor walked away.
I opened the door fully.
Ivo did not look up.
“Name, location, heat phase,” I said.
His head lifted.
“Ivo Markovic. Outside Mireya Sanz’s room in the Huntsman’s Lodge. Mireya is in rising heat. My rut is active under Hunt compulsion.”
“Known risks.”
“Loss of control. Unwanted restraint. Scent marking. Knot injury. Curse backlash. Attempted bite.”
“Requested act.”
“None. You have not requested one.”
“Good.”
I held the doorframe.
“What do you want?”
His eyes met mine.
“You.”
The answer moved through me like fire.
He continued before the Hunt could make it prettier.
“I want to enter your room. I want to take off your clothes. I want my mouth on you until you stop hurting. I want to be inside you. I want to knot you. I want to put my teeth against your scar.”
My hand tightened on the frame.
“Bite?”
“The Hunt wants it. My rut wants it. I do not choose it.”
“Can you keep choosing no when you’re inside me?”
“I don’t know.”
The honesty hurt.
“Then we build for failure,” I said.
Something changed in his face.
Respect, perhaps.
Or fear.
“Terms,” I said.
“You set them.”
“Temporary knot. Penetration permitted. Touch permitted from my shoulders down, except no fingers around my wrists or throat.”
“Agreed.”
“No scent gland contact with hands, mouth, or teeth.”
“Agreed.”
“No mark.”
“Agreed.”
“No bite.”
“Agreed.”
“No pinning me face-down.”
“Agreed.”
“I choose position.”
“Agreed.”
“If I say stop before the knot, you withdraw immediately. If I say stop after, all movement ends and you remain still until separation is safe.”
“Agreed.”
“Check-ins before penetration, before knotting, and after the knot locks.”
“Agreed.”
“Davor remains at the stairs. The door remains open.”
Ivo’s jaw tightened.
“The Hunt will read an open door as an incomplete threshold.”
“That’s the point.”
“It may increase the pressure to claim.”
“Then kneel.”
His breath changed.
“Agreed.”
“I keep the key.”
“Always.”
“I keep a knife.”
“Where?”
“Under my pillow.”
“Agreed.”
“If you reach for my throat, I use it.”
“Aim beneath the ribs.”
“I remember.”
The care agreement beside the door glowed.
“Lucidity,” I said.
“Mireya Sanz.”
“Huntsman’s Lodge.”
“Rising heat.”
“Known risks: loss of control, injury, unwanted mark or bite, curse backlash.”
“Requested act: temporary knot with Ivo Markovic under stated limits.”
“Stop condition: verbal stop or closing my hand twice.”
“Why twice?”
“If I can’t speak.”
“Show me.”
I closed my hand two times.
His scent sharpened with attention.
“Lucidity phrase,” he said.
“Blackthorn opens for no one.”
“Do you want to continue?”
My body screamed yes.
That was not enough.
I looked at the weapons beyond his reach. At the open door. At Davor’s shadow near the stairs. At the key in my hand and the care agreement burning beside me.
Then I looked at Ivo.
“Yes.”
He waited.
“You may enter.”
The threshold opened.
Ivo crossed on his knees.
The sight struck somewhere deep and dangerous.
He was a large man made larger by restraint. Dark hair fell over his forehead. The muscles in his shoulders held rigid beneath a black shirt. His mouth was bloodless from the force of keeping his teeth behind his lips.
He stopped one pace inside.
“May I stand?”
“Yes.”
He rose slowly.
Fir smoke filled the room.
My pain eased.
I reached for the hem of my coat, but a tremor shook my hands.
“May I help?” he asked.
“Coat only.”
He moved behind me without touching. His fingers found the collar and eased the fabric down my arms. When it caught over the key in my fist, he waited until I changed hands.
The coat fell to the floor.
Cold air touched my damp shirt.
Ivo’s scent turned darker.
“Name it,” I said.
“I want to tear the shirt.”
“Action?”
“Wait.”
I pulled it over my head.
His gaze dropped.
I had no bra. The fabric had become unbearable hours ago. My breasts felt swollen, nipples tight from heat and cold.
Ivo’s hands opened at his sides.
“May I look?”
The question almost made me laugh.
“You already are.”
His gaze lifted to my face.
“May I continue?”
My pulse slowed.
“Yes.”
He looked.
Not at my scar.
At everything else.
Desire moved through his expression without becoming entitlement. That should not have felt rare.
It did.
I untied my trousers and pushed them down with my underwear. Slick cooled on my thighs.
Ivo made a rough sound.
The Hunt answered beneath the floor.
Present her.
Claim her.
I stepped out of the clothes and climbed onto the bed.
Not beneath the blankets.
On top, where the open door remained visible.
“Your clothes,” I said.
“What do you permit?”