Chapter Two

The bar was thick with smoke, whiskey, and that sharp werewolf musk that made my skin prickle.

I was already on my feet, boots planted unevenly on the sticky floor, swaying just enough to know the liquor had won. The room started to spin a little, as lights shone amber and red across dark booths. My head felt heavy, but my chest felt heavier—like something was still clawing at the inside of my ribs.

Three big wolves sat in the corner booth, shoulders wide, drinks in hand, laughing low. Their voices came through the music, loud and careless.

“…human mate, can you believe it?”

“Cassian must be slumming it for the bond boost.”

“She won’t last a month in real pack life.”

“Pathetic little thing.”

Every word felt like a fresh cut. Heat surged up my neck, while tears stayed behind my eyes. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. The liquor made everything louder in anger, and hurt.

I turned. My voice was loud enough to be heard over the music. “Got something to say?”

They laughed mockingly, as if I was nothing.

One leaned forward, fangs flashing in the dim light. “Just wondering how long before he gets bored and trades you in for a real wolf.”

I stepped closer. My boots scuffed the floor. The smell of spilled beer stuck in my throat. “Maybe you should wonder how long before I break your nose for talking shit about things you know nothing about.”

The laughter stopped.

The biggest one rose slowly, towering. His eyes glowed faint gold in the shadows. “Watch your mouth, human.”

“Or what?” I lifted my chin, meeting his stare. “You will growl at me? Newsflash—I’m not scared of dogs.”

Growls rolled low from their throats. Claws extended with soft clicks against the table. They moved in slowly, closing the space.

My pulse hammered in my ears. The room felt smaller, hotter. Sweat prickled at the back of my neck. I didn’t back down. The ache in my chest hurt worse than whatever they might do.

Then—silence.

Every wolf in the bar went still. Heads bowed. Shoulders straightened. Glasses froze halfway to their mouths.

The three in front of me paled, eyes wide. They stepped aside like they’d been burned.

Confused, I turned.

And stumbled straight into a solid wall of muscle.

Strong arms grabbed me before I could fall. My face hit a solid, warm chest. I caught a smell—like wet woods after rain, a bit of smoke, and something dark and strangely addictive that cut through the whiskey haze fast.

I looked up.

He was tall—taller than Cassian, and broader. Dark hair slightly tousled, jaw shadowed with stubble, eyes the color of storm clouds right before lightning. Mature. 

He looked down at me with faint amusement, one arm still wrapped firmly around my waist, holding me flush against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Gentlemen,” he said, his voice low and calm but firm enough to silence the room. “Is there a problem?”

The scarred bartender practically bowed over the counter. “Alpha Hawke. No problem at all, sir.”

Alpha Hawke.

The name hit hard. Whispers spread quickly.

The three wolves muttered frantic apologies and vanished into the crowd.

I tried to pull away, legs unsteady. His arm tightened a little. 

“You are either very brave or very drunk,” he murmured, lips curving slightly.

“Both,” I rasped.

His chuckle was warm against my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “Dangerous combination.”

He released me slowly, deliberately, making sure I stayed upright before letting go. His gray eyes scanned me from head to toe—curious, assessing, and beneath it all, something hotter that made my skin flush.

I should have thanked him. Should have turned and walked out.

Instead I stared. Heart pounding in a way it never had with Cassian.

He tilted his head, studying me right back quietly. “You look like you have had a rough night.”

Understatement.

Images flashed behind my eyes—Cassian thrusting into Lyra, my ruined wedding dress on the floor, his cold sneer—Love a human? Pathetic.

The pain twisted fresh, sharp as broken glass.

I didn’t think.

I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled myself up on tiptoe.

Then I kissed him.

Pouring every ounce of hurt and betrayal into it.

His lips were warm, firm. For one heartbeat he stilled—surprised—then a low sound rumbled in his chest. His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair as he took control of the kiss and deepened it.

Heat exploded through every nerve in my body.

We stumbled backward together—through a side door, into a narrow dimly lit hallway—until my back hit the cool tile wall of what I dimly registered was the men's room.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, breathing rough, eyes darker now, pupils blown wide.

“You sure about this, little one?” he asked, voice husky and low.

The nickname sent a shiver racing down my spine straight between my legs.

Cassian’s betrayal burned behind my eyes like acid.

I didn’t care who this man was. Didn’t care about consequences or the fact that he was clearly someone important and dangerous.

I needed to feel something else. Anything else.

“Yes,” I whispered. 

And then his mouth was on mine again, harder, hungrier. His hands slid under my hoodie, palms hot against my bare skin. I arched into him, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting through fabric.

He lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The stall door kicked shut behind us with a bang.

His teeth grazed my neck. A growl rumbled low in his chest, vibrating against me.

I gasped, head falling back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut.

His hips pressed forward, pinning me. One hand slid up my side, thumb brushing the underside of my bra. The other gripped my thigh, fingers digging in. 

Heat pooled low in my belly. My breath came in short, ragged bursts.

His mouth moved to my collarbone, kissing, and biting softly. My hands fisted in his hair, tugging. He growled again—deeper this time.

The phone in his pocket buzzed. 

He froze and pulled back to look at the screen.

His face changed—amusement gone, something darker flashing across his features.

He looked at me. His eyes narrowed, as he searched my face like he was seeing me for the first time.

And whispered, roughly:

“You have no idea who I am… do you?”