CHAPTER 2: ONE NIGHT WITH A STRANGER

Elysia’s POV

He studied me for a moment, his gaze dragging over my face like he was memorizing it. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

“I can make you feel good,” he murmured, voice rough, “I can help you forget everything else.”

My heart stuttered.

His thumb traced the corner of my mouth, and something warm unfurled low in my stomach — something that wasn’t fear, or shame, or heartbreak. Then he kissed me.

And I let him.

I didn’t know why. I didn’t know him. I didn’t even know what he looked like under that hood. But when his mouth crashed into mine, rough and demanding, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years.

I felt wanted.

He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t ease into it. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me up and pressing me back against the tree, and I gasped into his mouth, my fingers clutching at his cloak because my legs were shaking too much to hold me up.

“Don’t think,” he growled against my lips. “Don’t talk. Just feel.”

And God help me, I did.

His hands moved—one sliding up my back, the other gripping my thigh and hitching it over his hip—and I should have stopped him. I should have pushed him away, but I didn’t. Because for the first time in my life, I wasn’t invisible.

His mouth moved to my neck, his teeth scraping over my skin, and I bit down on my lip to keep from making a sound. My dress was still damp from the wine, clinging to my body, and when his hand slid under the hem, I nearly came apart right there.

“You want this?” he asked, his voice a low rasp in my ear.

I nodded, too breathless to speak.

“Say it.”

“I…I want this.”

He made a sound low in his throat, something between a growl and a groan, and then his fingers were tugging at the laces of my dress, pulling it down just enough to expose my breasts to the cool night air.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes dragging over me like I was something rare. Something worth looking at.

I wanted to cry again, but for a different reason this time.

He didn't waste time. His mouth was on me, hot and desperate, his tongue and teeth working my nipple until a sharp cry tore from my throat. I slapped a hand over my own mouth, silencing it. He watched me do it, his cold eyes glinting, before he moved to my other breast, giving it the same devastating attention until my knees buckled.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough.

I obeyed without thinking, pressing my palms flat against the rough bark of the tree. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode.

He pushed my dress up around my waist. I heard the rustle of his clothes, the soft thud of his belt hitting the forest floor.

Then his body was against mine again, all hard heat and coiled muscle. His hands gripped my hips, and I felt the blunt, thick head of his cock press against my entrance. He was big, and my body clenched in nervous anticipation.

"Last chance," he said, his breath hot against my ear. "You sure about this?"

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes”

He didn’t hesitate.

He pushed inside in one slow, devastating stroke. I cried out, the sound muffled against my own arm. It burned, a sharp stretch that stole my breath. He went still, buried deep, letting my body adjust to the overwhelming fullness. Then he began to move.

He fucked me with a slow, deep rhythm that was more intense than any frantic pace. Each deliberate thrust dragged against every sensitive place inside me, stoking a heat that began to melt the icy numbness in my chest.

He angled my hips, lifting me slightly, and pushed forward again, even deeper. A broken moan escaped me.

One of his hands slid around my hip, his calloused fingers finding my clit, taking me to places I've never been. I want more. I need more. I jerked against him, a sob catching in my throat. The dual sensation was too much-the deep, filling stretch and the bright, circling pressure of his touch. I was coming undone against a tree, with a stranger, and it was the most alive I'd felt in years.

He increased his pace, thrusting harder…fucking me like he was angry. Like he was trying to exorcise something. And I let him, because I was angry too.

Angry at the pack.. Angry at the moon goddess for giving me a life where I didn’t matter.

So I took it. Every thrust. Every bruising grip of his fingers. Every filthy word he growled into my ear.

And when I came, it wasn’t soft or sweet. It was violent. A silent, shattering wave that made my vision whiten. My inner muscles clenched around him, pulsing, and a ragged, muffled scream was torn into the skin of my arm.

I felt something strange then—a burning sensation in my chest, like something deep inside me was waking up. It spread through my veins, hot and electric, and for a split second, I thought I felt him too. Like we were connected.

But then it was gone.

He groaned, a low, guttural sound of release. His thrusts lost their rhythm, turning sharp and frantic as his own pleasure took him. His body went rigid against mine, his forehead pressing between my shoulder blades as he spilled himself inside me with a final, deep shudder.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing mixing with the rustle of leaves. The heat between us was a stark contrast to the night air.

Then, without a word, he pulled away.

The sudden emptiness was a shock. Cool air kissed my skin where his body had been. I couldn't move, my limbs heavy and trembling, my forehead still pressed to the tree.

I turned slowly, my legs still shaking, my dress barely covering me. He was already adjusting his pants, his face hard and unreadable.

“Thank you,” I whispered, because I didn’t know what else to say.

He looked at me then, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Regret, maybe. Or guilt.

But then his expression shuttered, and he shook his head.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he said, his voice flat. “This didn’t mean anything.”

My stomach dropped.

“I…I know,” I stammered. “I just…”

“Forget it ever happened.”

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone…”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “We just made the biggest mistake of our lives.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “The biggest mistake of my life.”

I flinched like he’d hit me.

He stepped back, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. “Get dressed and leave.”

“Wait…”

But he was already gone, disappearing into the shadows like he’d never been there at all.

I stood there for a long time, my body still trembling, my chest aching worse than before.

Grief and pain does terrible things to your judgment. That’s what my mother used to say.

I pulled my dress back into place, my fingers clumsy and numb, and I started walking. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care.

Because the truth was simple.

No one wanted me.

Not my pack. Not even the moon goddess, who couldn’t be bothered to give me a mate. And now, not even a stranger who’d fucked me against a tree and left me like I was nothing.

My wolf whimpered in the back of my mind, a soft, broken sound.

We’re alone, I thought. We’ve always been alone.

But as I stumbled through the darkness, one hand pressed against my chest where that strange burning sensation had been, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

Something I didn’t understand. Something that would come back to haunt me.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​