Chapter 2

I stormed into Howling Moon, the bass of the music thrumming through her bones like a second heartbeat. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, whiskey, and wild magic—werewolves, shifters, and thrill-seekers packed the underground bar, their laughter and growls blending into the night.

I wasn’t supposed to be in—dark, reckless, alive, not a word for the Emerson heir—but after tonight, after the way Liam had looked at her, I didn’t care about rules anymore.

I slid onto a barstool, the leather creaking under me. "Something strong," I told the bartender, a broad-shouldered shifter with gold-flecked eyes. He gave me a once-over—my rumpled blouse, the smudged mascara I hadn’t bothered to fix—but didn’t ask questions. Smart man.

The whiskey burned going down, but I welcomed it. Better than the ache in my chest.

I shut my eyes and ordered another shot. I gulped down the whole cup and kept ordering more till my surroundings started to feel lighter.

The dance floor called to me, bodies moving in a haze of sweat and desire. I didn’t belong here, not really. But for once, I wanted to be someone who did.

Then a handsome stranger was there—tall, tousled dark hair, a smirk that promised sin. His hand settled on my waist, pulling me flush against him.

"You look like you could use a distraction," he murmured, voice rough over the music.

I should’ve pushed him away. But the memory of Liam’s kiss with Riley made me reckless. So I let him spin me, let his fingers trace the bare skin above my waistband. Let myself forget.

Then—

Silence.

The music cut off. The air turned thick, heavy, like the moment before a storm breaks. My skin prickled.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who’d just walked in.

Liam.

The stranger’s grip tightened reflexively before he caught himself. "Alpha," he muttered, the word laced with instinctive fear.

I turned slowly.

Liam stood at the entrance, his broad frame blocking the dim light from the street. His jaw was clenched, his golden eyes burning through me. Every wolf in the room had gone still, heads bowed under the weight of his fury.

"Avery." My name was a growl in his throat. "Go with me."

I lifted my chin. "I’m not done."

He paused, his eyes flickering like he had heard something shocking, this was the first time I was defying him, worse in such a open place.

"Avery.." The warning etched in his voice, like he was threatening me to defy him again.

I ignored him and turned my attention back to the stranger like Liam's intimidating figure wasn't in the room with us.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Two strides, and he was on us, wrenching me away with a snarl that sent the stranger stumbling back.

"Mine," Liam snapped, not to me—to him.

The man backed off instantly, hands raised.

I scoffed, jerking my arm free. "Yours? You don’t get to say that. Not after—"

Liam didn’t let me finish. He dragged me outside, his grip unbreakable. The cold air hit my flushed skin, doing nothing to douse the fire between us.

"What the hell were you thinking?" His voice was raw. "That place is—"

"What? Beneath me?" I shoved at his chest. "Or are you just pissed someone else touched what you threw away?"

His eyes flashed. "I never agreed to end things."

"You didn’t have to. You chose Riley." Her name tasted like ash. "So go ahead. Marry her. I don’t want—"

He moved too fast. One second I was glaring up at him; the next, my back hit the brick wall, his body caging me in. His scent—pine and winter wind—wrapped around me, familiar and infuriating.

"Liar," he murmured, his breath hot against my lips.

I twisted away, but his hands were already sliding under my skirt, calloused fingers finding the place that ached for him. My traitorous body arched into his touch.

"Say it," he demanded, his mouth skimming my throat. Hell no!! I can't do that!! Not after what he did to me.

"Say you’re mine."

I bit my lip to stifle a moan. My head was telling me, listing countless reasons my position with him was so wrong but my body, my body wouldn't listen. Why?? Why is my body reacting this way to his touch?

I should hate him? He betrayed me. I should be repelled by his touch but why do I want him so bad? Why do I wish for him to go further? Why??

I couldn't fight him even though my head was screaming I should. Being so weakened by his touch made me feel disgusted of myself amd more angry at him.

"I hate you—" I hummed.

He chuckled, low and dark, his thumb circling just there—I came apart with a gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.

When the stars cleared, he was watching me with smug satisfaction.

"Your body knows the truth, sweetheart."

My chest tightened. Damn him. Damn this bond that refused to let me go.

Then—his phone rang.

The sound shattered the moment.

He hesitated, his thumb stroking my hip like he couldn’t bear to let go. But when he saw the screen, his jaw tightened.

Riley.

"I have to take this," he muttered.

Of course he did.

I turned my face away as he answered, her name on his lips like a prayer. "Riley? What’s wrong?"

A pause. Then—

"I’ll be there."

He hung up, his expression torn. "She’s not well. I have to go."

The words shouldn’t have hurt. Not anymore.

"Then go," I said, my voice hollow.

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. "Wait for me. This isn’t over."

But as he walked away, I knew the truth.

I was always the one left waiting.

And I was sick of all this.