Chapter 2: The Breaking Point

Everly POV

I shouldn’t have opened the window. 

2:17 AM. My bedroom was dark except for moonlight cutting across the floor. And there he was. Grayson. Standing in my backyard like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just destroyed my entire life with one dance. 

Lila slammed against my ribs. 

Go away, I whispered through the glass. 

He heard me. Of course he did. Wolf hearing. 

“Let me in, Everly.” His voice was rough. Tired. Like he hadn’t slept. 

I did. God help me, I did. 

The moment he stepped inside, the air changed. It got heavy. Hot. He smelled like the night. Cedar and whiskey and something broken. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said. I wrapped my arms around myself. My tank top suddenly felt like nothing. 

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. He looked wrecked. Dark circles under his eyes. “I’ve been driving for 3 hours. I can’t stop thinking about you. About the dance. About your scent. About how you felt under my hands.” 

My heart pounded. “Grayson, we can’t—” 

“Don’t say it.” He cut me off. His eyes were gold. Wolf was right under the surface. “Don’t say we can’t. Not tonight. Not after tasting you.” 

He stepped closer. I stepped back. My legs hit the bed. 

“Your father would kill me,” he said. It sounded like a confession. “My company. His campaign. Everything we built. Gone. 15 years of friendship. Ash.” 

“Then why are you here?” My voice shook. 

“Because Silver won’t let me breathe.” He said his wolf’s name like a curse. He pressed his palm to his chest. “He’s been clawing at me since you walked into that ballroom. He says you’re ours. That we die without you.” 

The word ours broke something in me. 

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to push him out. 

Instead I whispered, “Mine says the same about you. She hasn’t slept either.” 

That was it. That was the mistake. 

A low growl tore from his throat. He was on me in one second. Not touching. Just caging me against the bed with his arms. His scent surrounded me. Overwhelmed me. 

“Everly,” he gritted out. “Tell me to leave. Right now. Or I’m not responsible for what happens next.” 

I looked up at him. At the man who taught me to swim. Who brought me soup when I had the flu. Who was supposed to be safe. 

“Don’t be safe,” I whispered. “Not with me. I’m tired of being safe.” 

He snapped. 

His mouth crashed on mine and it wasn’t gentle. It was 12 years of restraint snapping. His hands were in my hair, on my back, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him sane. Like I was oxygen. 

I kissed him back. Desperate. Reckless. Lila was howling in triumph. 

We broke apart, both breathing hard. 

“This is wrong,” he panted against my lips. His forehead dropped to mine. 

“Then stop me,” I challenged. My hands slid under his shirt. His skin was fire. 

He didn’t. 

He lifted me and laid me on the bed. His weight settled over me and it felt like coming home and starting a war at the same time. 

His hands shook when he touched me. Like he was fighting himself and losing. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said again. His fangs were down. His eyes were fully silver now. Beautiful and terrifying. 

“Never,” I breathed. 

And then there was nothing but heat and whispered names and the feeling of belonging I’d ever had before. 

When it was over, I lay in his arms shaking. Not from regret. From the bond. 

It was there. A thin silver thread connecting my chest to his. Permanent. Warm. 

Grayson stared at the ceiling. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it would crack. 

“We have to tell Luke,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow.” 

“Tell him what? That you marked his daughter?” 

He turned to me. Pain in his eyes. “That I’m in love with you. That I can’t give you up. That I’ve been in love with you since you were 19 and I was too much of a coward to say it.” 

My heart stopped. “Love?” 

“Don’t.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t make this harder. Don’t make me say it again.” 

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. And again. 

10 missed calls. All Dad. 

Reality crashed in. “Oh no,” I breathed. “He knows.” 

Grayson was already sitting up. Pulling on his shirt. His face was stone. But his hands were shaking. “No one can know. Not yet.” 

“But—” 

“If this leaks now, my company tanks. His campaign is over. The packs go to war.” He looked at me. “I need 6 months, Ev. To set things up. To protect you. To make it so no one can touch you.” 

6 months. A secret. 

I nodded even though it felt like dying. “Okay.” 

He cupped my face and kissed me once. Soft. Final. Devastating. 

“I’ll call you,” he said. 

Then he moved to the window. 

That’s when we heard it. 

Footsteps. In the hall. Heavy. Deliberate. Not security. Not a guard. 

Dad’s footsteps. 

Both of us froze. 

“Everly?” Dad’s voice. Right outside my door. “Open the door. Now.” 

Grayson’s eyes went wide. For the first time since he walked in, he looked scared. 

“Shit,” he breathed. “The cameras. He saw my car.” 

Panic shot through me. “The window. Go—” 

“It’s too late.” He grabbed my wrist. “If he finds me here, we’re done. Both of us.” 

The doorknob rattled. 

“Everly, I’m not asking again.” Dad’s voice was ice. 

Grayson looked at me. Torn. Then he made a choice. 

He ducked. Fast. Into my walk-in closet, pulling the door shut behind him just as my bedroom door opened. 

I had half a second to yank the blanket up, to hide the mark on my neck, to look like I’d just woken up. 

Dad walked in. Senator Luke Carter. In sweats and a frown and eyes that missed nothing. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” he demanded. 

“I— I was asleep,” I lied. My voice cracked. “What’s wrong?” 

He scanned the room. His eyes landed on the open window. Rain on the floor. Two sets of wet footprints. One leading to the bed. One leading to the closet. 

His jaw ticked. 

“Someone was in here,” he said. It wasn’t a question. 

My blood went cold. Lila went silent. 

“What?” I forced a laugh. “Dad, that’s crazy. The window was open because it was hot.” 

He didn’t believe me. I could see it. He walked to the window, looked out into the dark garden. Then he turned, slowly, and his eyes landed on my closet door. 

The closet door that was shaking. Just slightly. 

“Who’s in there, Everly?” His voice dropped. Dangerous. 

I opened my mouth. No sound came out. 

And from inside the closet, Grayson’s phone buzzed. 

Once. 

Loud. 

Dad’s head snapped toward it.