Mark of Sin: Bound to the Cruel Alpha

"Turn away and don’t look, Jane. This isn’t for your eyes." Magnus hoisted the professor up by the throat with a single hand, lifting his heavy frame off the floor as if he weighed nothing, and stared into his eyes. Coldly. Methodically. As though calculating precisely how slow and excruciating his death should be.

I couldn’t turn away. I was frozen to the spot.

"You wanted to touch her?" Magnus whispered, his voice dangerously quiet. "You wanted what’s mine?"

"I... p-please... I didn’t..." the professor gasped out, blood pouring from his nose and split lips, running down his neck.

"Then let me show you," Magnus leaned in close, a terrifying, predatory smile spreading across his face that made me choke back a sob, "what happens when you lay a finger on my mate."

He slammed the professor onto the floor with enough force to send his heavy body sliding across the tiles, plowing into a row of desks in a deafening crash of splintering wood and twisted metal.

Then Magnus followed after him. Slowly. Stalking his prey, savoring every single step.

I clapped my trembling hands over my eyes, but I couldn’t block out the sounds.

The heavy, sickening impacts. Again and again. The terrible crunch of breaking bone. The wet, gasping wheezes. Desperate pleas for mercy that quickly dissolved into guttural, animal shrieks. And then, even those sounds died away, leaving only the dull, heavy thuds of flesh striking flesh.

I curled into a tight ball, pressing my palms against my ears and rocking back and forth, praying to erase the reality unfolding around me. But it was too late. The image was already scorched into my mind—the metallic stench of copper thick in the air, the grotesque snap of splintering ribs. It was etched into my soul forever.

And then, absolute silence fell. Heavy and deafening.

I was terrified to open my eyes, terrified to see what was left of the man, terrified to look at Magnus.

"You watched everything, my stubborn little breeder..." A deep voice rumbled directly above me, and I felt two massive, powerful arms scoop me up from the floor. He lifted me with impossible care, his large palm cradling the back of my head and pressing my cheek gently against his chest. "I told you not to look. This wasn’t meant for your eyes."

But I had already seen it out of the corner of my eye. The vast red pool spreading across the floorboards. The unrecognizable mass that had once been a man. And Magnus’s hands—coated in thick, crimson blood up to his forearms.

The sheer horror of the sight made a violent tremor wrack my body, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"Shh... quiet now," he murmured, pulling me tighter into his embrace. His voice was shockingly soft, so deeply soothing that my frantic instincts desperate for safety surrendered to it. "That filth will never lay a finger on anyone ever again. I promise you."

The crushing weight of his murderous aura vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Driven by pure, instinctual need, I wrapped my trembling arms around his neck and buried my face into the crook of his collar. The fabric was damp with sweat and blood, but I didn’t care. I needed his heat.

I needed the terrifying madness that had just saved my life.

I had no memory of him carrying me out of the university. No memory of the halls or the courtyard. He simply carried me like a prized possession, held against his pounding heart, and not a single soul dared to cross his path.

I only came back to my senses when we were already in his car. I was sitting directly in his lap, my fingers clutching his shirt with such force that my knuckles had turned stark white.

He held me securely against his chest with one arm while steering the high-powered vehicle with the other. His hand on my waist felt solid, burning hot, and grounding. He only released his grip for a brief second.

"Sayan," Magnus spoke into the phone, his tone flat, icy, and dead. "There’s trash left in lecture hall three hundred and seventeen. Clean it up."

He ended the call and tossed the phone aside. His broad palm slid back over my spine, stroking down my back in long, steady motions that sent a wave of liquid warmth blooming through my core.

I still couldn’t let go of him. My mind was tearing itself apart at the agonizing realization of what would have happened if he had been a minute late. If he hadn’t answered... what would have become of me?

The horrifying thought sent a fresh wave of panic through my chest, and a broken sob escaped my lips as I buried my face deeper into the warm skin of his neck.

"It’s over, Jane. It’s all over," he whispered, pressing his lips gently against my temple. "You are safe with me."

He tightened his arms around me until it almost hurt, but the pressure was grounding—far better than the cold abyss of absolute terror.

I was grateful to him. Indescribably, desperately grateful. He had saved me. He had protected me when I was completely defenseless. I had been so naive, never imagining that a full-grown man—a professor, an authority figure—could try to force himself on me like a common lowlife.

"Thank you," I whimpered into his neck, tears spilling over my lashes once more, though these were born of sheer relief. "Thank you for saving me..."

"No one is allowed to lay a hand on you. You belong to me," he growled low against my skin. "Anyone who tries will have their arms ripped from their body."

His fingers tangled in my hair, gripping the strands and pulling my head back to meet his gaze. I looked up into his eyes and watched his pupils dilate until the silver irises were nearly swallowed by pitch-black shadow.

He dragged his nose along the sensitive curve of my throat, taking in my scent, and the sudden, violent surge of his wolf’s territorial response caused his foot to slam on the pedal, sending the car sliding sideways into a hard, screaming drift.

The world before my eyes rapidly began to darken, slipping away into absolute shadows until everything was swallowed by the blackness.

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