Chapter 69: To Kill Or To Love (iii)

Words : 1558 Updated : Sep 19th, 2025

Chapter 69 of "Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man" starts unfolding: Chapter 69: To Kill Or To Love (iii) Reed POV: Yeah, I left. Left before my stupid wolf... Discover more!

Chapter 69: To Kill Or To Love (iii) Reed POV: Yeah, I left. Left before my stupid wolf decided to do something irreversible like marking her. The way she was lying there... the scent she was throwing off... It was driving me insane. Driving him insane. A human. A pathetic, fragile, breakable human. Making me — a born Alpha — almost lose every shred of control I ever bled to earn. Making me want to kneel down, mark her, pledge loyalty so deep it would shame my ancestors. It was sickening. Infuriating. Terrifying. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Not for her. Not for anyone. But every time she whimpered in her sleep, every time her scent hit me just right, it was like the universe grabbed my soul in a chokehold and reminded me — she was mine. Claimed. Chosen. And me? I was fighting a losing battle with myself. So yeah. I left. I ran, if you wanna call it that. Better a coward for one night than a monster for a lifetime. Better leave now than stay and do something so permanent even death wouldn’t wash it away. Because if I touched her again? If I gave in? There would be no going back. And gods help me... Part of me didn’t want to. The moon goddess must be having a real good laugh right now. Probably rolling on her divine ass, watching me suffer. Gods, what the hell am I supposed to do? To think — after years of waiting, after years of dreaming about my mate... About the perfect, strong, fierce wolf woman who’d stand beside me — Only for the goddess to hand me this. A fucking human. A human who bleeds every damn month like her own body is trying to kill her. I’m going to be a laughingstock. The biggest goddamn joke the kingdom has ever seen. Me. Reed. Alpha-blooded, war-forged, feared by all... Mated to a fragile, stubborn little human who looks like the wrong gust of wind could snap her in half. And the worst part? After years of mouthing off about how humans were beneath us... How they were weak, pathetic, nothing more than pests— The goddess decided I needed one tied to my soul for the rest of eternity. Nice. Real fucking nice. Honestly? I preferred it back when I thought she was a dude. At least then the attraction felt like something I could curse, ignore, fight. Now? Now there’s no escaping it. No denying it. No fighting it. She’s mine. Stamped into my bones. And every damn second I breathe, I feel it grinding deeper. Gods, I’m screwed. Stupid fucking wolf. Wouldn’t let me reject her. Wouldn’t even consider it. And I couldn’t reject her without being one with him — without his damn agreement — And he? He was too damn busy wagging his invisible tail like some lovesick mutt. Typical. Alpha wolf my ass. Strongest bloodline, highest rank, blah, blah, blah — But one sniff of her and suddenly he’s all Mate, Mate, Mate like a broken record in my head. If I tried to fight it? Tried to force the rejection? He’d break. He’d snap the fragile balance we shared — And then I’d go feral. Turn rogue. Nothing more than a savage beast, a mindless monster lurking on the outskirts until someone merciful finally put a bullet in my skull. I knew what would help. Oh yeah, I knew it. But if that stubborn, lovestruck wolf inside me even caught a whiff of what I was thinking? Going feral would be the least of my problems. He’d tear me apart from the inside out. Shatter me. Rip my soul to bloody shreds and leave me nothing but a hollow, broken shell. And maybe... Maybe I deserved it. Because honestly? Right now, the idea of snapping her little neck and ending this bond before it rooted any deeper — It was tempting. Dangerously tempting. Blaze POV: I came with one goal. One. Simple. Goal. End her. Finish this pathetic weakness before it could sink its claws into me any deeper. Rip her away from my veins, from my mind, from the growing sickness rooting in my chest. I would be free. Invisible again. Untouchable. Exactly how I had survived all these goddamn centuries. But no. My stupid fucking demons wouldn’t let me. While she — my doom wrapped in soft human skin — sat there, clutching that pathetic heating pad like it could shield her from the real monster in the room, she snapped at me like I wasn’t two seconds away from ending her. "You ever hear of knocking?!" she barked, her voice sharp and trembling. "Or is dramatic entrances just part of your whole undead aesthetic?" She had no idea. No. Fucking. Idea. How close she was to death. While she flapped her little mouth, I was busy battling the war exploding inside my own goddamn skull. My demons knew why I had come. Knew that I had planned it perfectly — Strike when she slept, when she was soft and defenseless. She wouldn’t have felt a damn thing. Would’ve been over in seconds. Clean. Simple. Necessary. But instead? They fought me. They.Fought.Me. Never, in my endless life, had I ever been at odds with them. We had an agreement — I reason, they rage. I command, they obey. But now? Now they snarled and writhed and yanked at my control, refusing to let me do what had to be done. How the fuck could they not see the danger she posed? Reed was already sniffing around her like a damn wolf with a bone. And if that mutt ever realized what she truly was to me? My beloved? He’d use her. Use her to control me. And I’d rather rip out my own heart with my bare hands before I’d ever let that happen. But the demons wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t reason. Wouldn’t yield. Inside my mind was nothing but chaos — blood and whispers and a fury that wouldn’t settle. And the stupid, reckless, fragile girl wouldn’t stop talking. Wouldn’t shut up. Wouldn’t make this easy. She didn’t realize. Didn’t fucking realize what a lethal weapon she was when pointed at me. And gods help me — I wanted to snap her silly neck just to make it all stop. I had to compromise. Swallow my pride and bargain with the very monsters that lived inside me. For them to give me back control of my body, I had to promise— Swear on blood and bone— That I wouldn’t hurt her. For now. Finally, some peace. The scratching and tearing at my mind faded into a dull murmur, a warning rather than a war. I hated it. Hated how easily they bent to her without a second thought. Hated how the chaos went still at the mere scent of her. I walked up to her, each step feeling like it dragged knives through my skin. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move — the little minx was too exhausted to even realize the danger still lingering inches away. Slowly, carefully, like she was spun from glass, I slipped my hand beneath her neck and lifted her head. Then, without thinking — without letting myself think — I laid her head on my lap. Her scent washed over me in waves. Blood, pain, stubbornness — and something else. Something that made my demons purr in contentment like loyal hounds at her feet. I gritted my teeth so hard it felt like they might shatter. I hated this. Hated her. Hated the hold she didn’t even know she had. Little pet. Little curse. Little everything I never wanted. And still... Still, I stayed. "What to do with you, little pet?" I murmured, my fingers threading through her soft, fine hair. So fragile. So warm. So wrong. Good lord. One moment I wanted to cradle her closer, shield her from every horror this damned world could throw at her— The next, I wanted to wrap my hands around her delicate throat and squeeze until the world was quiet again. I had thought... Foolishly, arrogantly thought, that it was just fascination. Just a passing obsession with a defiant little human who dared to mouth off, to stand her ground. Not this. Not a beloved. Not the one curse I couldn’t claw my way out of. If only— If only things had stayed the way they were before I found out. Before her blood branded itself into my bones. When I tasted her— When I ruined her— When I fucked her to oblivion, thinking she was nothing but a clever, reckless boy. How fitting. How poetic, really, that my damnation would come wrapped in such small, infuriating packaging. I dragged my claws gently—too gently—along her scalp, her sleepy form completely unaware that the real monster wasn’t hiding in the dark anymore. It was the one cradling her head, whispering murder and worship in the same breath. I could feel her shaking. Every small tremor against my thigh. Could feel her heartbeat pounding, frantic, fast — hammering like a trapped bird in a cage. She was scared. Good. I chuckled, low and deep, a sound that rumbled through my chest and made her flinch even more. She was right to be scared.

Chapter 69: To Kill Or To Love (iii)

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