Selina's POVI couldn't even pretend to focus. My office smelled like stale air and Vera's vanilla hand lotion, which was to say it reeked of distraction and absence. She was supposed to be here, sorting legal documents for my 3 p.m., but Vera, my not-so-dutiful assistant, had predictably vanished for the morning. I had no doubt she was off somewhere getting absolutely railed by her mate, Grant—probably against the printer in the supply room, because that's what passed for romance in this building.I stared at the edge of the legal pad on my desk, willing myself to read the names on the upcoming litigation. All I saw was Lucas' face, the shape his mouth made when he said my name, and the way his hand clamped around my throat and squeezed until I swore I was going to die. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his cock splitting me open, every thrust staked in memory like a bloody flag.I tried to banish the image, the taste of him, the humiliation, and the heat. I failed. My thighs p
Lucas’s POVThe study was too quiet. I’d been sitting at the desk for nearly an hour since Jonathan Carr left, and my thoughts hadn’t stopped circling. The storm had passed outside, leaving the air damp and sharp, but my head was still in the conversation that had just taken place.Jonathan had come in unannounced—as usual—talking about Selina and Damon like he had some right to dictate their lives. There was always this arrogance in his tone, but today, something in his mask had slipped. His words were smooth, but there was something off about the way he held himself, like a predator pretending to be something else.And that smell… Blood and metal. The two scents twined together in a way that made my wolf bristle. I’d smelled it before. Not on a witch, not on a wolf. Only once—on a body I’d buried deep in the woods, after its owner had tried to put a blade through my throat.The knock came, snapping me out of my thoughts.“Come in,” I said.Grant stepped inside, closing the door behi
Lucas's POVI knew I was in trouble the minute I opened my eyes. My mouth was dry, my back ached, and every muscle felt like it had run a marathon while my brain rotted from an overnight bender. What I actually did was argue with six overgrown, self-important manchildren about hunting routes and jurisdiction until three in the fucking morning, then spent the next three hours lying awake, thinking about Selina and why I would never be enough for her.I forced myself out of bed, my tongue scraping over my teeth like sandpaper. I barely made it to the window before I realized the entire compound had already come alive. I could see Vera out front, shouting at one of the younger wolves, her jaw locked in that particular way that always meant someone was about to regret a decision.My skin buzzed, electric. I needed to be out there, showing dominance, keeping the hierarchy from melting down, but all I could think about was the way Selina had looked at me last night, in that quiet moment whe
Selina's POVI told myself I could handle this. I always told myself that, right up until Lucas’s hand was around my throat and my back was arching off the kitchen counter. It was the worst kind of cliché: the bitch who swore she’d never fuck her mate bent over the very first flat surface she could find, begging for it like an animal. But I wasn’t that bitch. Not until the first time I tasted him.Now we were outside, me and Lucas, sitting on opposite ends of the stone bench like we were starring in a middle school filmstrip about boundaries. If I so much as crossed my legs, I could feel the heat of his stare, even through the hedge of rosemary. I didn’t cross my legs. I didn’t dare.The sun was too bright for my mood, pinning me in place, making my sweat taste like citrus and shame. “Are you going to say anything,” I asked, “or are we just going to sit here until one of us dies?”Lucas cocked his head and made a show of licking his canine. “I thought silence was your favorite languag
Jonathan's POVI let the phone ring out, one hand fisted tight around the marble ledge as if I could crush it, or maybe fling myself over. It had been three days since Selina last called. Not that I counted or cared enough to keep a tally. It’s just—there’s nothing else to do in this city except count all the things you can’t touch.The city looked different from up here, from the thirtieth floor—like a model, still and almost pretty. Only the kind of pretty that makes you want to set it on fire and watch the little toy cars melt and glue themselves into the asphalt. Down below, my collection of human pets fussed around each other, laughing in that dead, clicky way that let me know they’d already been drinking. I’d lost their names months ago, but that didn’t matter. Names were for people who expected to remember you.I closed the phone with a snap. The taste of Selina still coated the back of my tongue. She’d been a little quiet for a week, supposedly on some business for the firm, b
Jonathan’s POVThe penthouse was quiet except for the faint hum of the city far below. The curtains were drawn, shutting out the skyline, and the only light came from the amber glow of the bar in the corner.My “pets” were here — three of them tonight — sitting on the low velvet sofa like perfectly trained animals. They didn’t speak. They didn’t move unless I wanted them to. That was the point.I poured myself another glass of wine, though I knew I wouldn’t touch it. It was for show. The real drink was kneeling at my feet, warm and breathing and utterly compliant.“She’s avoiding me,” I said, letting the words curl with annoyance. “Always some excuse. Work. Damon. The pack.” I swirled the wine lazily before setting it aside. “And now… I think she’s spending more time with him.”No one replied. They never did.I let my hand drift to the woman at my side, fingers tangling in her hair before tilting her head back. Her throat was pale and smooth, the pulse fluttering fast under her skin.