Mated To My Best Friend's Lycan Alpha Brothers

(Author’s POV)

”Wh~ what are you two?” Myra questioned them with a dumbfounded look, her eyes trembling ever so slightly. She then recalled a not so distant conversation with Nora, where she had told her something about their heightened senses and supernatural healing abilities. So, she asked, ”Are you~ ... by~ by chance~ .... werewolves?”

She thought they were the people sent by the Everests’ rivals, the ones who attacked her in the forest a year ago. The reason she cut off contact with Nora and her family in the first place.

”What??? Eww~~~~~ .... no way. Why the fuck are you even comparing us with those dirty, messy dogs?” Elisa made a disgusted, scrunched up face, then shook her head. Aamon added coldly, ”Those fur skinned rabid dogs~ .... they are nothing but loathsome entities existing on earth because that moon goddess was bored and wanted some entertainment in her eternal life.”

Instantly, Myra felt a surge of anger and wanted to rebuke them. She didn’t like the way they degraded the werewolves. But the pain in her abdomen shot up again as she spat out blood. She tried to stay as calm as she could and asked, ”Then tell me your real identities? If not werewolves, what the fuck even are you two?”

”Ohh~ ... the feisty kitten is so eager~ ... then I’d better not disappoint you. After all, it is going to be your last few moments of existence,” Elisa smirked provokingly. Catching her signal, Aamon held her close as dangerously glittering mist covered the pair. Myra kept looking in their direction as if being enchanted. Her hazels were trembling as their attire shifted from plain, everyday clothing to something dramatic, something straight out of a costume drama.

Shedding her clothes, Elisa was now in an elaborately detailed gothic, deep, dark crimson gown with black laced design sleeves and closed collars with her cleavage on display. Her luscious, cherry locks flowed loosely in the air as the black jewelled crown on her head was placed between terrifyingly prominent horns. Her fair skin was radiant; her green cat shaped eyes glowing in the dark.

Standing next to her, with his glasses off and no casual clothes, Aamon had changed into something else. Wearing not a single strand of clothing above his waist, his tight, muscular body was on full display. The long, red wings on his back were scaring the life out of Myra. His lower half was covered with not fabric but beads, countless red, silver and black beads. A tail, similar to that of a devil mentioned in horror stories, was hanging from behind. Its pointed edge resembled an arrow’s head. He, too, had horns above his head, but his were twisted at the ends. He even had sharp canines; his obsidian eyes were mesmerizing, at the same time horrifying.

Myra’s hazels contracted, then expanded in sheer horror. Her throat dried up, her breath caught. The surrounding air felt too heavy, too suffocating. She could feel the darkness radiating from the two.

Aamon took Elisa’s hand in his and kissed it. Then, turning towards a battered Myra, he made their much awaited introductions, ”Human girl, open your eyes clearly and see what we are. Not those low-life werewolves or the bloodthirsty vampires. She is~ .... the current queen of demons and the future queen of hell, the one and only, ELISA. And I, the Marquis of Hell, AAMON, am her loyal devotee, her future husband and also, the future king of all of hell.” His expression was filled with pride, his voice authoritative.

Myra’s body shook, her heart racing like a speeding car. She could not comprehend; there was too much going on. She still tried her best to show a brave front. ”You are demons that came from hell?”

”Not just ordinary demons,” Elisa corrected her. ”We are the rulers. The constant nightmares you see every single night, darling, the sheer panicky state you get into, I am the one behind it all.”

Myra clenched her teeth, recalling the painful and ugly nightmares she has been suffering since god knows when. Ignoring it for a while, she asked, ”But why~ .... why are you two after me? Why do you want my and only my blood? You are the rulers of hell or whatever. You can go after anyone else. Then why me?”

”Ohhhooo~ .... not this again. You are simply boring me with your questioning, Myra,” Elisa uttered, irritated. Aamon twisted his wrist as Myra, who had been lying on the floor, stood erect. She tried to keep a distance and break free, but kept gliding towards the devilish pair against her will. As soon as she came close, Elisa grabbed her face aggressively, ”You talk too much. I was trying to be nice for old times’ sake. But you are too much, human mutt.”

She tightened her hold, her manicured nails digging into Myra’s cheeks as blood started to trickle down from the small cuts. ”Don’t you get it. Just give me your blood, and everything will be over soon.”

Myra didn’t flinch, nor did she avert Elisa’s gaze. She had sensed something from her words. Elisa had been repeating, asking her to agree to give her blood willingly. From what was on display, Elisa and that pet Marquis of hers could bleed her dry, and she would not be able to put up any fight. But they weren’t doing that. There has to be some catch. She was sure of it.

She looked at Aamon and then dead in Elisa’s eyes and in a challenging tone, replied, ”I~ WILL~ .... NOT~ GIVE~ YOU~ A~ SINGLE~ DROP~ OF~ MY~ BLOOD~ ... WILLINGLY. Do whatever you want with me.”

Elisa stared at her for five seconds with tightly pursed lips.

Myra took it as a sign of anxiousness, of fear. Then the next moment, Elisa burst out laughing with Aamon joining in, ”HAhaHAHAhhaha ... AaHAhahhahahahhahaha~ ....” Their loud, mocking laughter echoed in the forest, making it sound all the more menacing and precarious.

Myra was perplexed by their reactions, but soon her confusion changed into fright.

Elisa released her and said, ”If you don’t want to give me your blood~ ... fine. Don’t give. But~ ... Myra, if you don’t do as I say, some people might lose their lives tonight. Someone you know~ .... very, very closely.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, sounding lethal.

The second her sentence finished, two dark figures dragged two familiar figures with them. When Myra saw who they were, she felt as if her lungs had been punctured. She screamed, in absolute horror, glaring at Elisa~ .... ”ELISAAAAAAA~~~~~ .... WHY ARE MY PARENTS HERE? Let go off them~ .... Let them GOOOOOOO~~~~~~~ ....”

To Be Continued . . . . . . . . .