The Hybrid Curse [MM]

Chapter: 6

*****

Ezekiel's POV:

My eyes lingered on him as he silently walked out of my office. My expression remained unreadable, but as soon as the door clicked shut, my mind spiraled with thoughts—most of them unclear. My actions toward Liam unsettled me in a way I couldn't quite explain.

For the past hundred years, no one had stirred my desire. Not since my past lover died. The longest I'd spent with anyone was three days—sometimes just a single night—before I ended things. Or killed them. But Liam…

Liam was different.

I'd known him since he was a child, watched him grow in my ring from the age of seven. He was a werewolf, and I—a vampire. He should have been nothing more than another pawn in my game. Yet somehow, he made me feel alive again. He brought back a sensation I thought had died with my past lover.

And that disturbed me.

I didn't hate him. Not his action, not his skill—because he was good. Too good at everything. But the way he made me feel, the memories he unearthed… and worse, how much I wanted to taste him afterward. I clenched my jaw. I had finally found a plaything that kept me grounded, that balanced me. Sinking my fangs into him so carelessly wouldn't be wise.

My eyes flickered down to my pants to my still-hard cock, a reminder of my unresolved frustration. I shut my eyes, swallowing hard as images of our encounter played in my mind.

The way he crawled toward me, like a professional seducer and slut. The way his amber eyes locked onto mine, unafraid. He should have been terrified. He should have trembled. But he didn't.

And it drove me insane.

His warm hand wrapped around me, firm yet teasing. The way he stroked the tip of my cock, slow, deliberate movements—it all reminded me of her. Of the one I lost in the cold hands of death.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers tightening around the armrest of my chair.

Then why the hell had I pushed Liam away so violently? Was it because I couldn't control my urge to sink my teeth into his throat? Or was it because he reminded me too much of the past?

I exhaled heavily, irritated.

Enough.

I reached for my phone and dialed a number.

"I need four of them in the usual place," I said flatly before hanging up. Then I stood, pulled on my pants, and prepared for the night's distraction.

Underground Club – VVIP Room:

The club was one of many I owned in the city. I took the private route, my steps echoing through the dimly lit corridor. Blue lights illuminated the VVIP room as I entered, my gaze landing on the four figures waiting for me.

Two women. Two men.

The women wore red and white lingerie, their C-cup breasts barely contained by the flimsy net-like material. They were meant to be enticing. Instead, the sight irritated me.

The men wore tight, revealing fabric that barely covered their plump asses. The moment they saw me, fear flickered in their eyes before they masked it with defiance. Fake bravado. Their boss had likely warned them about me.

My gaze flicked to the woman in white.

"You. Leave," I ordered. She shivered under my stare but obeyed immediately, vanishing through the door.

I sat down, waiting for the show to begin.

It didn't take long. The remaining three moved in sync—the last woman twirling expertly around the pole, the men swaying their hips, one of them crawling toward me with obvious intent. His eyes burned with hunger, his movements practiced and sultry.

I let him approach, his hands eager as he reached for my belt. He pulled my trousers down, his breath hitching when he finally saw my huge proud cock. Just as expected, his expression was similar to others that were before him—wide-eyed shock, hesitation.

"I… I don't think I can take you," he whispered, his voice trembling. He took a step back.

"Wrap your mouth around my dick," I ordered coldly. For a split second, an image of Liam flashed through my mind—his lips wrapped around me, the heat, the hunger—but I shoved it aside.

He obeyed without hesitation, taking me in, without passion, at the same time his mouth shivered against my cock, It was nothing like Liam.

Disgust curled in my gut.

The boy gagged, pulling away as he coughed violently. Tears tricked his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I… I'm sorry, Master. It—It's too big. It keeps growing in my mouth. Please, just kill me instead." The others stiffened, too terrified to meet my gaze.

My policy was clear: Mess up, and you die. All of you. Their boss had surely drilled that into them. And yet, here they were, trembling before me, failing me.

I should have felt the urge to kill them all for the mistake of one.

But I didn't.

"Get out," I said, my voice void of emotion. And they did, They bolted.

I was alone again.

Pouring myself a glass of Hennessy, I gulped it in one go, letting the burn coat my throat.

Why couldn't I get Liam out of my mind? I should have enjoyed humiliating him. Should have relished his fear. But instead, I felt something else—an unfamiliar heat in my chest.

This is a weakness.

I didn't need anyone to tell me that. Weakness led to attachment. Attachment makes you vulnerable. And vulnerability? That got you killed.

My mind was in chaos, searching for a way to take tight hold of my control. A way to keep Liam exactly where I wanted him. Then, a thought struck me—one that would ensure he never felt safe again.

He thought he was free. Thought he was out of danger, but He was dead wrong.

I picked up my phone and dialed my second-in-command, PI.

The moment he answered, he stammered, "Boss, I'm sorry about those guys. I thought they were competent—"

"I'm not calling about them." My voice was sharp, final. I could sense the surprise from the other end as I continued, "Find Liam. Follow him. Watch everything he does. I want to know his every move."

This wasn't just about obedience anymore. I was going to break him properly. A smirk curled at my lips as I leaned back in my chair.

Let's see how long you last, Liam.

I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the burn settle in my chest as I leaned back into my chair. My fingers traced the blade of the knife resting on my desk. Sharp. Cold. Deadly.

Liam thinks he's safe. That I let him go. That I'd forget.

Fool.

But that wasn't enough. I wanted him to feel me. To wake up knowing he was mine.

I picked up the knife, pressing the tip against my palm just enough to feel the sharp sting, while my blood dropped to the floor. A slow smirk curled my lips. I picked up my phone, dialing the last number I had just called.

"Forget watching him," I muttered, standing. "Tonight, I remind Liam exactly who I am."