Marry to Alpha or Vampire?

Cyril’s eyes turned black with anger, his face devoid of any emotion, and Hazel suspected he was furious. She quickly moved towards the bed, not wanting Cyril to enter the bathroom. Even if nothing had happened in there, she felt somewhat guilty. The thought of what Hawthorne had said and done filled her with a sense of betrayal, though she hadn’t crossed any further lines with Cyril. Despite her earlier pleas for what she wanted, he had always refused.

Cyril walked over to where Hazel was.

“Hazel, tell me about this mark,” he pointed at Hazel’s shoulder. He seemed oblivious to how terrifying he looked, enveloped in anger.

Hazel fell silent, struggling to find a way to answer. She wished Cyril hadn’t noticed it at all. She didn’t want to bring up the subject of Hawthorne.

“I’ve told you, it’s just a scratch,” Hazel sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets tightly.

“Have I been too lenient with you lately?” Cyril looked angrier than Hazel had imagined. “Is that why you think you can deceive me so easily?”

“Hazel, you shouldn’t hide anything,” Rita groaned, unable to bear Cyril’s rage, which had reached the Alpha’s threshold.

Hazel chose to ignore Rita’s comments, focusing on the situation at hand.

“It’s a bite mark,” Hazel finally spoke up, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, despite the weight of the situation.

Cyril gripped Hazel’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Whose bite mark?” Cyril continued to inquire. He couldn’t believe that Hazel had managed to bite him, considering she had never had the opportunity. Hazel turned her head away; she didn’t want to face Cyril’s intense gaze.

“Hazel, tell me. Whose mark is this?” Cyril’s voice was filled with anger as he pressed her against the bed, restricting her movements. Hazel felt cornered.

“Do you really want to know?” Hazel asked, her anxiety growing. She wasn’t sure if her answer would only further enrage Cyril.

“Speak,” Cyril growled, his authority impossible to ignore.

“It’s Hawthorne,” Hazel sighed. The air in the room seemed to thin as she spoke the name. Cyril stared at Hazel’s face, detecting no sign of deception at this moment.

“He bit you?” Cyril chuckled coldly. “And you didn’t resist, did you?” Cyril’s fingers traced the bite mark on Hazel’s shoulder, and it annoyed him greatly.

“I had no control over my mind at the time,” Hazel argued. “I don’t know what he did.”

“But your body didn’t reject him, did it?” Cyril’s words carried a bitter undertone. First, Hawthorne had kissed her, and now he’d bitten her shoulder.

“No… that’s not it,” at least Hazel managed to regain control and hadn’t let Hawthorne proceed with the so-called marking.

Hazel had a vague inkling that if Hawthorne had indeed marked her, Cyril’s fury would be nearly impossible to quell. It was an odd intuition of hers, but she even thought Cyril might kill Hawthorne.

“Hazel, you were in the shower just now,” Cyril’s gaze deepened. He couldn’t imagine what might have happened in the bathroom, nor if it carried any scent of a vampire. But he wouldn’t tolerate it happening again.

“He didn’t see… my whole body,” Hazel turned her head away, her cheeks slightly flushed. Hazel concealed certain moments, like Hawthorne touching her breasts, which definitely couldn’t be mentioned.

“But you felt something for him, didn’t you?” Cyril lowered Hazel’s straps, his gaze growing more intense. The girl he was interested in had been bitten by a stranger vampire, and Cyril felt challenged. He didn’t know the vampire’s origins, but he’d get to the bottom of it sooner or later.

“I didn’t,” Hazel continued to deny, she’d never bring up the fact her nipples hardened under Hawthorne’s touch. She had to steer the conversation away immediately.

Hazel stared at Cyril’s handsome face with a sense of distraction. She’d longed for Cyril’s touch and hoped for a more intimate connection with him, but Cyril had never made a move. While in the bathroom, his face kept crossing her mind, so she resisted Hawthorne’s marking. Hazel didn’t know if there was any connection between these two.

“Listen, Hawthorne claimed I’m his fiancée,” Hazel sighed and told Cyril about it. If she couldn’t find more information about the vampires on her own, she’d leave it to the Alpha. He’d surely have a solution.

Hazel had never doubted the Alpha’s strength. She just enjoyed the feeling of sparring with Cyril, but they clearly had something more than just a playful rivalry between them.

Cyril was momentarily taken aback by Hazel’s words; obviously, this was beyond his expectations.

“Fiancée?” Cyril repeated the word.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Yes,” Hazel said. She couldn’t fathom how she had ended up as a vampire’s fiancée. It sounded absurd to her. She’d never thought she’d have a vampire for a fiancé. Could a werewolf and a vampire even unite?

Cyril had never known himself to be a jealous man. His life had revolved around everything related to the Alpha since birth. He had taken over his father’s position, becoming an Alpha and leading the world’s largest pack. After his eighteenth birthday, there was a time when he hoped to meet his mate, to become his Luna and help him govern the entire pack. But to this day, Cyril still hadn’t found his mate.

The day he encountered Hazel in the forest, he felt an inexplicable connection as if she should stand by his side, facing everyone’s submission. She appeared rebellious yet free-spirited, unbound by any constraints, and no one could confine her.

But Cyril also wished that Hazel could belong to him. Strong possessiveness consumed Cyril’s mind; he couldn’t ignore Hazel’s every move.

“So, what do you think?” Cyril made an effort to calm himself, even though Hazel’s words had his heart racing.

“About what?” Hazel didn’t understand Cyril’s meaning. “What should I think?”

“Do you think you should be his fiancée?” Cyril’s tone grew angry again; he found himself unable to dismiss this matter. The thought of Hazel becoming someone else’s fiancée ignited his jealousy, making it hard for him to stay calm. Perhaps he would lose his temper the next moment.

“No… I never thought I’d become a vampire’s fiancée,” Hazel pushed against Cyril’s chest, unaware of vampire customs.

“Then who do you think you belong to?” Cyril stared at Hazel, eager to hear an answer that satisfied him.

Hazel frowned and casually replied, “I don’t belong to anyone.”

If Hazel could take her words back, she would do so without hesitation. She noticed Cyril’s body tensing up, his eyes revealing some mysterious emotion.

Cyril rose from the bed, looking down at Hazel lying there, a cold smile on his face.

“I will correct your misconception,” Cyril’s voice turned calm, as if nothing was amiss. But Hazel knew it might be the calm before the storm.

Hazel wanted to speak further, but Cyril didn’t give her the chance.

“Hazel, you belong to me. I will make you understand that.”