Chapter 4

*Adele's point of view*

“Keep your hands off me,” I snapped, pushing her away.

Serena’s face twisted. “Why you little—”

“Adele. Your room. Now.”

Demarion stood in his doorway, his voice cutting through the hall.

“What?” I shouted. “She touched me. Maybe you should yell at your precious mistress instead.”

The air went still.

He inhaled slowly. “You have one minute to get to your room. If I have to come get you, you will regret it.”

My hands shook. I glanced at Serena. She was smiling.

I turned and stormed off, locking myself in my room. I did not come out until Cindy arrived with dinner.

“Hey,” she said gently. “I have not seen you all day. Are you okay?”

“I got a job at the clinic,” I said, forcing a smile.

Her face lit up. “That is great. Now you will have money. We can go into the city together.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I would like that.”

We talked until she had to leave. When the room fell quiet, I crawled into bed, hoping sleep would erase the day.

It did not.

The door opened.

I sat up as Demarion stepped inside, shirtless. He locked the door behind him. My breath caught. He walked toward me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I could not move. When he stopped in front of me, his voice dropped low.

“Get up.”

I stared at him, my mind frozen on his bare chest, his presence filling the room.

“Get up,” he repeated.

I slid off the bed and stood before him.

The sound came before the pain.

His hand struck my face, sharp and sudden. I fell onto the bed, my cheek burning.

“Get up.”

Tears spilled as I tried to push myself up. My body shook.

“I said get up.”

His hand tangled in my hair, yanking me upright. A cry tore from my throat. He looked at me like he might strike me again. Then something flickered across his face.

His palm touched my cheek. Gentle. Almost tender.

The next second, he shoved me back onto the bed and turned away.

The door slammed shut.

I curled in on myself as sobs ripped through my chest. My face throbbed. My heart hurt worse.

My mate had hit me.

And I was alone.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection while my hands smoothed over my scrubs again and again. The fabric still held stubborn creases, no matter how much heat the iron had pressed into it. My fingers trembled as I tried to flatten them.

I checked my phone.

7:30 AM.

My shift started at eight.

I had thirty minutes.

I took one last look at myself, drew in a steady breath, and stepped out of my room. My steps were careful, almost cautious, as I made my way down the hall. Since that night with my mate, I had done everything possible to avoid him. Different paths. Different times. Different excuses. So far, it had worked.

The walk to the clinic gave my thoughts too much space.

He had hurt me. He had pushed me away. Yet he had never truly rejected me. Not officially. The words had rules. They always did. Without them, the bond stayed alive, unfinished and heavy. That uncertainty gnawed at me.

I feared him now, yet my wolf did not understand that fear. She grew restless the longer we stayed apart. She whined in my mind, tugging at my thoughts, slipping into my dreams. Sometimes I woke up breathless, heart racing, my mind filled with images I did not invite.

I shook my head as the clinic came into view.

Focus.

The moment I stepped inside, familiar scents wrapped around me. Cleaning supplies. Medicine. Coffee. It was an environment I knew well, yet my stomach still fluttered with nerves.

“Good morning.”

I turned to see an elderly woman smiling warmly at me. She wore a lab coat and held a clipboard close to her chest. A stethoscope rested around her neck.

“You must be Adele,” she said. “The alpha told me about you.”

“He did?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

She nodded, her smile widening. “Yes, and I am very grateful. I have been asking for help since the clinic opened.”

She gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head, while I stood there unsure of what to say.

“Today should be fairly quiet,” she continued. “I need you to update patient files on the clinic database. Each folder belongs to a pack member. Their medical and physical details need to be current. Everything you need is in your office. I will check on you around lunch.”

“Thank you,” I said, then hesitated. “Um…”

She laughed lightly. “My name is Diana. I would very much love it if you simply addressed me by my name.”

She held out her hand, and I shook it with a small smile.

“Since the pack is large,” she added while guiding me toward the office, “start by arranging the folders alphabetically by last name. Then you can begin updating the records.”

“Got it,” I said.

As I stepped into the office, the door closing softly behind me, I squared my shoulders.

Work. That was all that mattered now.

“Got it. Thank you,” I said, offering her a polite smile before heading into the office.

My office.

The moment I switched on the lights, my steps slowed. Not from awe, but from shock. Papers covered every surface. Folders were stacked in uneven piles. Books lay open where someone had abandoned them. Dust clung to shelves and corners like it had claimed the space as its own.

I stood there for a moment, eyes wide, taking it all in.

So this was my task.

I set my bag down in the corner and rubbed my palms together, steadying myself. Light would help. I reached for the curtains and pulled them open.

Instant regret.

Right outside the window, the warriors were training. Bodies moved in fast, sharp motions, steel flashing in the sun. And there, in the middle of them all, stood him.

The alpha.

My mate.

He was shirtless.

The sight hit me harder than I expected. Sunlight caught on his skin, highlighting every hard line and muscle. Sweat rolled down his chest as he moved with smooth, controlled strength. Every strike was precise. Every dodge effortless. The warriors around him barely stood a chance.

My breath stalled.

I told myself to look away, but my eyes refused. They traced the way his muscles shifted, the way power sat so easily on him. My pulse picked up, heat creeping into my cheeks and settling deep in my chest.

Inside my head, my wolf stirred, pleased and restless.

I swallowed.

Then his head lifted.

Our eyes met.

The moment stretched just long enough for him to know.

Embarrassment burned through me. I stepped back quickly, pressing myself against the wall beside the window, heart pounding as I forced my breathing to slow.

This was dangerous.

I wanted him. There was no point pretending otherwise. But wanting him did not change the truth. He did not want me. And no amount of longing would fix that.

I closed my eyes and took a steady breath.

I would survive this.

Turning away from the window, I focused on the mess in front of me. One thing at a time. I gathered loose papers and stacked them neatly on the desk. I sorted folders, wiped shelves, cleared the floor until the space slowly began to look like something workable.

As the room came together, I noticed three doors. One led to a small bathroom with a shower. Another opened into a storage closet. The third held cleaning supplies.

Perfect.

I pulled my headphones from my bag, slipped them into my ears, and turned on my favorite playlist. Music filled my head, pushing everything else out. As I cleaned, my body relaxed, moving with the rhythm.

For the first time that morning, my thoughts finally went quiet.