Marry to Alpha or Vampire?

All eyes were fixed on Hazel, who stood there, speechless, struggling to find the right words to explain her predicament.

Ada triumphantly raised the pearl ring and proclaimed, “This is Hazel’s ring, and it’s engraved with her name.”

Cyril’s lips tightened, and his intense gaze fell upon Hazel. She felt a growing unease; the situation seemed suspiciously coincidental.

“Yes, it’s my ring, but I didn’t kill Bessie,” Hazel replied, her voice carrying a hint of frustration. She couldn’t fathom how her ring ended up beside Bessie’s severed head. It should have been safe in her drawer.

Cyril’s calculating look revealed his thoughts. He had known that Bessie would die, but he hadn’t anticipated that someone would frame Hazel and connect her to the murder. This was far from ideal.

“How do you prove that you didn’t kill Bessie?” Ada taunted with a mocking smile. She took pleasure in stirring up trouble and dragging Hazel into the chaos.

“Why should I prove my innocence for something I didn’t do?” Hazel rolled her eyes. Ada was clearly out to make her life miserable, and Hazel wasn’t about to play along.

“You’re just feeling guilty,” Ada pointed her finger at Hazel’s nose.

“Enough,” Cyril’s low voice cut through the tension, bringing the bickering to a halt. He didn’t want this sideshow to continue any longer.

Cyril gave Ada a quick, piercing look. He was well aware of her motives-she just wanted to enjoy the spectacle. It wasn’t her place to speak.

Ada wanted to retort but refrained when she met Cyril’s gaze. She knew better than to continue.

“Parrish, take good care of that ring. The rest of you, disband,” Cyril directed, his attention locked on the ring Hazel held. He didn’t give her a chance to object.

Hazel furrowed her brows. It was her ring, after all. However, she understood the importance of preserving it as evidence. She knew Cyril wouldn’t agree to hand it over now. She didn’t want to challenge him in this situation, as it might result in him withholding the ring from her.

“You, come with me back to the pack,” Cyril ordered, a command one couldn’t easily refuse.

Hazel didn’t want to comply with Cyril, but her ring was still in his possession. She had to accompany him back.

This was Hazel’s first time entering Cyril’s office. As an Alpha, he had his private office and a manor of his own.

Hazel felt conflicted. A part of her didn’t want to be alone with Cyril, but another part yearned for their alone time, especially after what happened in Clear Springs. She didn’t know how to face Cyril, even though werewolves weren’t overly concerned with bodily exposure.

A sense of contradiction filled her, especially after their previous encounter. She didn’t know how to navigate their relationship, especially considering the tension that lingered between them.

“You don’t want to explain?” Cyril asked, his eyes fixed on Hazel. He was curious to hear her side of the story, even though he knew that Bessie’s death had no connection to Hazel.

“I don’t need to explain anything. I didn’t kill Bessie,” Hazel asserted, comfortably seated on the sofa. She saw no reason to explain herself when she was innocent.

“Why can’t you learn to obey, Hazel?” Cyril’s expression appeared displeased, suggesting Hazel hadn’t yet mastered the art of addressing him.

All this talk of obedience was getting on Hazel’s nerves. Cyril always seemed to insist on rule-following, and his dominance grated on her independent nature.

“I’ve said it already. I didn’t kill Bessie. Are you suspecting me? Do you think I’m a rebel, a criminal who killed Bessie in a fit of rage in the woods? Does that satisfy you, Cyril?” Hazel stood up, both her hands braced on Cyril’s desk, and she glared at him with indignation.

“Hazel, are you sure you want to speak to me like this?” Cyril walked over to Hazel, and in a bold move, he grasped her chin. She was a daring woman indeed.

As Cyril got closer, Hazel bit her lip, trying not to reveal her vulnerability. She couldn’t help but admit that Cyril’s physique was utterly captivating, and his strength was undeniable.

“I can’t seem to find the right words. Can you make me shut up?” Hazel stared up at Cyril.

“Hazel, you’re challenging me.” Cyril sneered. He closed the office windows and locked the massive oak door, saying, “It seems you haven’t learned your lesson from last time.”

Hazel saw what he was doing and realized Cyril was getting angry once again.

As Cyril turned away, Hazel retreated to the door. But before she could unlock it, Cyril’s hand firmly grasped her waist.

“Cyril, let me go,” Hazel demanded, her body wriggling. She recalled the incident in Clear Springs and felt both shame and an inexplicable excitement. Hazel found herself caught in a paradox of emotions.

“If you can’t learn to speak, then I’ll make you shut up,” Cyril declared, pressing Hazel onto the sofa, his hand lifting her chin.

Hazel felt Cyril’s tongue in her mouth, and his kiss was passionate and forceful. She couldn’t resist, her hands placed above her head, leaving her helpless to his advances.

Cyril kissed Hazel, and his hand slipped inside her top, under her bra, to cup her breast. The gentle squeezing made Hazel moan involuntarily, and her cheeks flushed. Her underwear was growing damp, all because of Alpha Cyril.

“Have you learned to obey now?” Cyril paused, and Hazel was left dazed and wanting more. She felt ashamed of herself for enjoying Cyril’s rough and primal advances.

Hazel turned her head, avoiding his question, but her body screamed a different answer. She longed for Cyril to continue.

“Very well, as stubborn as ever.” Cyril began to undo his belt, his pants and underwear swiftly discarded. Hazel watched him undress, biting her lower lip and eagerly anticipating his next move.

Hazel felt the primal urge within her, wanting to submit to her powerful Alpha. The prospect of giving herself to Cyril was irresistible, and she found it difficult to refuse.

“So, what’s on your mind now?” Cyril inserted himself between Hazel’s thighs, rubbing slowly, and watched as her face reddened, sensing the thrill of conquest.

Hazel could feel the desire within her body, the longing for Cyril, and the idea of indulging in passionate lovemaking with him was magnifying in her mind.

She had to admit that, despite her constant defiance of Cyril, her body still craved him. Hazel desired Cyril’s further advances, yearning for him to enter her, not just between her thighs.

“Tell me, Hazel, do you want this?” Cyril’s breath brushed against Hazel’s neck as his hand slipped under her ultra-short skirt, removing her panties. He caressed Hazel’s sensitive area, which was already drenched.

Hazel tightly bit her lips, aware of her own intoxicating scent permeating the air. Cyril’s actions brought her pleasure, and her desire swelled.

But how could she voice her desires to Cyril?

Cyril clearly discerned Hazel’s thoughts, offering a light chuckle. His finger penetrated Hazel’s vagina, making her gasp. She glared at Cyril, who was intentionally teasing her.

“Tell me, do you want it?” Cyril’s finger continued to move inside Hazel, increasing in speed.

Hazel felt herself trembling all over, and eventually, she spoke, “Cyril, please, I want it!”