Liam’s Obsession

ELEANOR'S POV

For five years, I was the woman standing behind Dominic Thorne.

Five years ago, a truck forced his car off a wet highway outside the city, and the wreckage was packed with silver. Werewolves can heal from almost anything. Broken spines, torn muscle, bullet wounds, all of it knit itself back together by morning. Silver is the one thing that never lets go.

It ate through both of his legs, and the Blackthorn Pack's heir could no longer stand.

His father, Alpha Gideon Thorne, had no use for a crippled heir. The pack had no use for him either. Dominic was thrown into the crumbling old estate upstate. like he was a broken piece of furniture and every wolf in the pack pretended he had never existed.

Every wolf except me.

I dropped out of the healers' apprenticeship I had fought so hard to earn. I gave up my seat in the pharmacology program at Columbia. I gave up my future and stayed. I ground moonwort into poultices to draw the silver out of his wounds. I held him through the nights when the pain made him snarl like an animal. I learned to walk with him step by shaking step until, one day, he walked again.

The Thorne Group, the company that kept the Blackthorn Pack fed and funded. Also invisible among humans. It began to fall apart in his absence but I took it in my hands and held it together.

Every wolf in New York knew how much Dominic Thorne loved me. He bought me jewelry worth millions. He personally planned a wedding so extravagant. The gossip columns were already calling it the event of the decade. When I frowned, he looked at me as if the world was ending.

That afternoon, I was standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in a bridal boutique. I honestly thought I was the luckiest woman alive.

"Ellie, you look beautiful."

The custom gown fit me like a dream. Ivory silk, a low back, a skirt that moved like water. Dominic stood behind me. His broad hands settled on my waist, his warm breath sliding along my neck until my heart stumbled.

"Dom, stop it," I whispered, my cheeks burning. "There are people right outside."

"What are you afraid of? We're getting married next month anyway."

His fingers slid along the hollow of my back and I bit my lip to swallow a gasp.

"No, no, wait..."

He laughed softly and let go. "Relax. I'm only teasing. I promised I'd wait, didn't I? I'm saving the most important part for our wedding night." His voice dropped, low and teasing against my ear. "And when it comes, I won't let you out of bed for three days."

My face went up in flames. I opened my mouth to scold him.

His phone started to ring.

Dominic glanced at the screen. Something flickered across his face before he glanced at me. Then he turned away to take the call. I caught the name on the display out of the corner of my eye.

Callum Reed. One of his three closest friends.

"What is it?"

"Dom, what the hell is going on between you and Vivian Sterling? The internet is exploding!"

Callum's voice was tinny and frantic through the speaker, but I am a wolf. I heard every word as if he were standing in the room.

Vivian Sterling.

My heart gave a small, cold lurch. I lifted my head to look at Dominic.

His fingers tightened around the phone. He stiffened, and then he switched to fluent French.

"It isn't convenient right now. Use French."

There was a stunned pause on the other end. Then Callum took a breath and followed him.

"Dom, the paparazzi got photos of you and Vivian walking into the City Clerk's office this morning. You two got a marriage license! Five years ago you lost your legs saving her. Your family threw you away like trash, and she ran off to Paris with some other man for her stupid acting career. Have you forgotten all of that?"

The words poured into my head, crisp and clear.

I had learned French because of him. I had learned Italian and German. Also, enough Russian to survive a negotiation with an Eastern European Alpha. All so I could stand at his side at every table. It had never crossed my mind that I would one day use it to understand my own heartbreak.

The blood left my face. My whole body turned to ice.

Dominic's jaw hardened, and a shadow crossed his dark eyes. "I haven't forgotten. But she's in trouble, Callum. Her adoptive parents are going to sell her off to some old man. I can't stand by and watch that happen."

"You've lost your mind!" Callum snapped hoarsely. "What about Ellie? If she hadn't stayed. If she hadn't spent every single day getting you back on your feet, you'd still be in that house, rotting. You're getting married next month! How could you betray her?"

"I didn't betray her!" The retort came out cold and reflexive. "The news will be buried. My wedding to Ellie goes ahead exactly as planned. As for the certificate, I'll have a forged one made for her. She'll never find out."

"You can hide it for a month. How do you hide it for a lifetime? Have you thought about what she'll do if she finds out?"

"She won't find out." He said it with absolute certainty.

He knew how much I loved him. He believed, with his whole heart, that even if the truth came out, I would never leave.

"You do know Vivian came back with a child?"

Dominic lowered his eyes. "I know. That boy needs a father. Once Vivi and I are married, no one will be able to whisper about him."

Callum tried to say something more, but Dominic cut the call.

I was shaking. The happiness that had filled my face a minute ago drained away so fast that my scalp prickled. Tears blurred the mirror.

Vivian was back, and Dominic didn't want her to suffer, so he married her.

Vivian's son was back with her, and Dominic didn't want him hurt, so he would be his father.

And me? What was I?

A nurse. A bed warmer. A workhorse he could keep running with a few sweet words.

Five years. Was it all a joke?

Anger and humiliation and grief crowded into my chest until I couldn't breathe. My legs went weak. I grabbed the garment rack beside me to stay upright.

"Dom," I managed, staring at his back through red eyes. I wanted to ask him what I was . "You..."

His phone chimed with a message alert, cutting me off.

He read it, and his face softened into something tender as he turned back to me. "Ellie, be good. Something urgent has come up. Finish trying on the dress and go home."

He kissed my forehead. He didn't look at me again. He typed a reply as he walked out of the fitting room.

The heavy door closed with a thud.

My legs finally gave out. I sank to the floor in a pool of ivory silk and touched my cheek with trembling fingers. The tears were cold. My mouth tasted like ash.

What was so urgent that not even his personal secretary knew about it?

I didn't need to ask. I knew exactly who that message was from.

It hurt. It hurt so badly that my stomach convulsed and my fist crushed the delicate bodice into wrinkles. I stared at my wrecked reflection, big tears splashing onto the silk, and cried until I had nothing left.

I don't know how long I sat there before voices outside pulled me back. I wiped my face, gripped the rack, and dragged myself up.

The woman in the mirror was a mess. Something bitter curled at the corner of my mouth.

"How ugly."

I had made myself as small as dust for him. I had been willing to be small. And for five years, I had never once been able to warm his cold heart.

Fine.

Then I didn't want it anymore.

I ripped the veil from my hair. I changed out of the gown, fixed my makeup with steady hands, and looked at the woman in the mirror who was calm again. Every motion was quick and deliberate.

I lifted the heavy dress over my arm and opened the door.

"That Mr. Thorne who came in for the fitting suddenly phoned the shop yesterday. He rushed an order for another gown. Do rich people always have to be this dramatic?"

"Who knows. But I heard the two gowns are different sizes..."

"What? He ordered one for two women?"

My feet stopped. My hands shook around the silk, and something sharp twisted in my chest.

"Miss Ashmoor, are you pleased with the gown?" the attendant asked as I passed. "Mr. Thorne paid a fortune to have a foreign designer make it especially for you. You..."

"If you don't like it, send it back," I said, placing the dress in her arms. I swallowed the words burning my throat and walked out without looking back.

Outside the boutique, I pulled my phone from my bag and made a call.

My grandfather answered on the second ring, as if he had been waiting for five years.

"Grandfather," I said. "I'll come home. I'll honor the family marriage. Give me one month to settle everything here, and then I'll marry whoever you've chosen."