Marry to Alpha or Vampire?

“You should clean up too, Hazel.” But he had no reason to argue with Hazel now. He looked at Hazel, covered in bloodstains, and his anger toward Hawthorne intensified.

He lifted Hazel, carrying her into the bathroom with the intention of cleaning her thoroughly. Cyril turned on the shower, and steam filled the bathroom. Just like before, Cyril removed Hazel’s clothes, his hands couldn’t resist giving her a playful squeeze on the backside.

Hazel’s calm thoughts were overshadowed by Cyril’s touch. She desperately needed the comfort to feel warmth. She felt Cyril’s hands glide over every inch of her skin, spreading soap across her body.

Cyril helped wash Hazel’s hair, his rough fingers gently massaging her scalp, lulling Hazel into a drowsy state. After rinsing Hazel’s body, he carried her into the coffin, holding her waist tightly. His hand covered Hazel’s exhausted face, observing her swollen, teary eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself anymore,” he whispered.

“I belong to you forever.” Hazel hugged Cyril back, responding in a low voice. She recalled the day they marked each other in the forest. Her heart understood that she only loved this man.

Exhausted, Hazel drifted into sleep. Her serene expression hinted at an underlying unease, as if she were caught in a nightmare.

In her dream, Hawthorne emerged naked from the shower, water droplets clinging to his skin, accentuating his well-defined muscles and curves.

His crystalline heterochromatic eyes locked onto Hazel, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

“You’ve been watching me closely,” he chuckled.

Hazel clenched her fists, but it had no effect.

“Did you bring me here?” Hazel’s eyes flashed with anger. She knew this wasn’t a dream; Hawthorne had brought her soul to his place.

“I want to go back. Take me back!” Hazel demanded.

Hawthorne, hearing Hazel’s words, blinked his confused and angered heterochromatic eyes and revealed his fangs with a hint of aggression.

“You came willingly, Haze. Is it so difficult to admit you want me?” Hawthorne’s tone mocked Hazel, and his face showed a hint of innocence.

Hazel glanced at the completely exposed Hawthorne, his perfect physique and pale skin resembling a fallen angel-beautiful yet dangerous.

“At this moment, Cyril and I are peacefully sleeping together. Why would I come to see you?” Hazel frowned, speaking with indifference, yet her heart was stirred by Hawthorne’s appearance.

“No matter what you say, your body is honest with me,” Hawthorne moved instantly beside Hazel. His body exuded a faint sandalwood fragrance.

“No, my body feels nothing for you!” Hazel’s voice trembled, her inner conflict laid bare.

Hawthorne leaned in, his lips brushing against Hazel’s ear, deeply inhaling, sending shivers down Hazel’s spine. He whispered with ill intentions, “Dear Queen, let me tell you a secret.”

“If you show no reaction to me, your mark won’t heal.”

Fear swept through Hazel’s mind, her throat tightening. In this moment, Hazel had to admit that her body had been at odds with her will. Compared to Cyril’s possessiveness, Hawthorne’s tenderness and warmth were something she had long desired.

“You’re lying! Compared to Alpha Cyril, you mean nothing!” Hazel continued to resist, shaking her head vigorously.

“Well, that’s understandable, considering he has already tasted you,” Hawthorne said. His hands tightened around Hazel’s waist, and his lips forcefully met her neck. His body pressed firmly against hers. Hazel placed her hands flat on his chest, pushing him away while sealing her lips shut. Disgust filled her spirit at everything happening now. But Hawthorne didn’t stop; his hands moved beneath Hazel’s clothes, caressing her breasts.

“Let me go!” Hazel roared angrily.

Due to Hazel’s roar, Hawthorne increased his intensity, his large hands roughly kneading Hazel’s chest, thumbs pressing against her nipples. Unable to endure the torment, Hazel jerked her head away, her face flushed, lips parted in anger. Hawthorne seized the opportunity and kissed her, his tongue exploring Hazel’s mouth.

Feeling a tremendous impact, Hazel, compared to Cyril’s wild and aggressive kisses, found Hawthorne’s kiss dense and rich, like dark chocolate.

When Hazel regained some sanity, she pushed Hawthorne away once again. However, Hawthorne sensed her desire, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming. His hand ventured below her waist, delving into her intimate area.

“Don’t touch me-” Hazel was thoroughly enraged, struggling. Yet, her lower body involuntarily released fluids, yearning for Hawthorne’s touch. At that moment, Hazel’s self-disgust reached its peak.

She abruptly opened her eyes, the sunlight piercing her gaze. The imprint on her neck burned, as if an angry Hawthorne was reproaching her sudden departure. Hazel noticed another gaze that stung her.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

Cyril stared intensely at Hazel, anger evident in his tightly furrowed brows.

“You called his name in your sleep?”

“It’s this mark that brought me to him,” Hazel retorted, gritting her teeth.

“What did he do to you? Did he kiss you?” Cyril’s eyes showed a hint of guilt but more anger.

“I’m fed up with this damn vampire! This mark!” Hazel exclaimed.

“I don’t want him to touch you again, Hazel.” Cyril’s veins bulged, his tone heavy.

“Perhaps we need to seek the help of a witch.” Hazel had no other choice, but suddenly, a third force appeared in her mind.

“I just want you, my dear.” Hazel grabbed Cyril’s hand, soothing his emotions.

Cyril’s strong arms encircled Hazel’s waist, sending her heart into a frenzy.

Soon, Hazel’s face was pulled away from his chest. His rough hands grabbed Hazel’s thighs, making her giggle. She felt Cyril’s familiar touch, completely overshadowing Hawthorne’s presence.

“Feels familiar, Hazel?” Cyril grinned triumphantly.

Hazel squinted at Cyril. “I just wanted to comfort you. It seems someone is still unsatisfied.”

Naturally, she grasped his shaft, taking it into her throat. Hazel felt his hardness; her hand and mouth moved swiftly, the pleasure deepening Cyril’s smile. His eyes glowed, hands gripping Hazel’s hips, allowing her to bury herself deeper into his core until he completely released his discontent.

Satisfied, Cyril laughed. He sensed Hazel’s special connection with him.

Hazel dressed, clearing her throat. “What about Rex and Elmer?”

“In the next room,” Cyril shrugged, as if telling Hazel that this was her territory, and everything that just happened had reached Elmer and Rex’s ears.

A blush spread across Hazel’s face, but she quickly realized the need to check on Rex’s injuries, her expression becoming serious.

“We need to find out about Rex’s condition.”