Control your dog

Lucas’s POV

There are two kinds of madness. The kind that sneaks in through the cracks. And the kind that kicks the door off its hinges and dares you to stop it.

I didn’t sneak into Selina’s evening; I kicked the fucking door. The maître d’ was halfway through explaining that the restaurant was fully booked for private parties, but I didn’t hear him. My eyes were already locked on the far table near the back terrace.

Candlelight. Wine. A soft jazz quartet playing in the background. The whole fucking scene straight out of a high-society fairy tale.

And there she was. Selina. My Selina, dressed in black again, because she knew it made her look like sin incarnate. The silk of her dress clung to her body like it missed her skin when she moved. Her hair was pinned in that elegant twist that left the sharp edge of her jawline exposed. Her lips were red. That same red she used to leave smeared on my neck.

And across from her sat the man. Fucking Jonathan Ward. A human. Clean-cut. Fucking smiling like he knew something.

He leaned forward as she laughed—laughed—and touched his wrist. Something inside me snapped. My wolf surged to the surface, claws itching beneath my skin, breath shifting.

The maître d’ placed a trembling hand on my chest. “Sir, you can’t—”

I stepped around him like he wasn’t there. Conversations fell silent as I moved through the restaurant. I could hear the ripple of recognition, the murmurs. Lucas Blackwood didn’t just walk into public places. He commanded them.

Every eye followed me. But Selina didn’t flinch. She watched me come, wineglass in hand, head tilted slightly like she was amused.

As if I wasn’t seconds away from putting a man in the ground.

“Lucas,” she said sweetly, not rising. “I didn’t realize you were slumming it with the rest of us tonight.”

Her date turned, brows rising. “Mr. Blackwood.” He extended a hand like an idiot. “Jonathan Ward. Pleasure—”

“I will tear your hand off if you finish that sentence.”

Jonathan froze. Selina sighed. “You’re ruining the wine pairing.”

I stepped beside their table, close enough that the tablecloth rustled from the energy rolling off me.

“You’re going to leave,” I said to the man. “You’re going to walk out of this restaurant. And if you touch her again, I’ll rip you apart piece by piece.”

Jonathan stood. Slowly. Not backing away. He didn’t smell like fear.

Interesting.

“Sir,” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care who you are. You’re making a scene. Walk away.”

Oh, I liked him even less now.

My wolf roared. My vision blurred. For a heartbeat, I saw myself lunging. Hands to throat. Skull cracking against the marble tile.

Then Selina spoke.

“Lucas.”

I turned to her. She didn’t rise. Didn’t yell.

She just smiled.

“Control your dog.” She sipped her wine. “Because it’s starting to embarrass you.”

Her words landed like a brand. The air went dead silent. And for the first time in a long time, I was stunned.

I was the Alpha. The predator. The nightmare men whispered about.

And she called me a dog. Not in private. In front of a human. In front of a crowd. In front of him.

My claws slid back under my skin. The shift stopped halfway. My wolf snarled in protest because I denied release.

But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t attack. She’d outplayed me. Again. And she knew it.

That smug glint in her eye—meant for me and only me—told me everything.

She was still playing this game. And I had just moved my queen into check.

I stared at her. Let the silence stretch. Jonathan didn’t speak again. Maybe he realized how close he’d come to being a red stain on the floor.

I leaned down, close enough for Selina to hear the quiet threat in my voice.

“This ends. Now.”

She didn’t blink. “You don’t get to decide when it ends.”

“He’s nothing to you.”

“No,” she said softly. “But watching you fall apart over him? That’s everything to me.”

She sat back, like the conversation bored her. Like I wasn’t seconds away from losing control.

“You made me this cold, Lucas. Don’t act surprised that I know how to use it.”

I turned and left before I could say something that would set the building on fire.

My wolf howled inside me the entire way out.

But for the first time in my life… I walked away from a fight. Because she had already won it.

Later that night, I punched through a mirror. Then I stared at myself for a long time.

Not at the blood. Not at the broken glass. But look at the look in my own eyes.

I looked like a man who had lost his grip.

Not just on her. On everything. And the terrifying part?

I didn’t know how to get it back.