CHAPTER 3: TANGLED IN HEAT AND DARKNESS

CHAPTER 3: TANGLED IN HEAT AND DARKNESS

SELENE’S POV

Oh, my good Goddess. The heat enveloping me is so intense that it feels like molten fire is searing through every vein in my body. My back is pressed firmly against the cold wall, the chill doing little to temper the fever raging inside me. My head tips back, eyes rolling upward, as I try to brace myself against the relentless onslaught. Somehow—though I don’t even remember moving—I’ve locked my legs tightly around his waist, my thighs trembling, my breath tearing out of me in ragged gasps.

I moan—loud, raw, unrestrained—as he plunges harder into me, his pace unyielding, every movement more forceful than the last. He moves as though splitting my very soul in two, shattering the fragile hold I have over my own body. My nerves are aflame, every touch amplified, every friction a burst of white-hot sensation. The heat doesn’t just crawl through me—it claws, bites, devours.

My moans rise in pitch, spilling out as desperate cries I can’t control. “Oh… please…” I don’t even know what I’m begging for anymore. Relief? More? Both? I can’t tell. Tears prick my eyes, not from pain but from sheer sensory overload, my chest tightening as I cling to the intoxicating chaos consuming me.

My teeth grind together, my body shivering with unrestrained lust. His hands grip my ass firmly, holding me in place as if afraid I might vanish from his grasp. His mouth moves against my neck, planting feverish, unsteady kisses that send another cascade of shivers through me. His groans rumble against my skin, deep and raw, each one telling me how much my heat is undoing him, how much it’s driving him toward the edge.

He doesn’t slow—if anything, he becomes more reckless, more desperate. His hips snap forward with a rhythm that is both brutal and intoxicating. The wet slap of our skin echoes in the dim room, obscene and unashamed, wrapping around me like a dark melody. My body can’t take much more, and I know it. The tension builds, curling tight inside me until it bursts, and I scream into his shoulder, my nails digging into him as though he is my lifeline.

“God—” His voice cracks as he drives even harder, his pace maddened by my release. My inner walls clench around him, and he groans—low, guttural—before surging forward again and again.

The sound of our bodies colliding grows frantic until he lets out a sharp, ragged cry and I feel the rush of heat spilling deep inside me. His grip on me tightens almost painfully, as if holding on to reality by a single thread. His entire body shudders against mine, his breath coming in heavy, uneven bursts.

Then, still joined, he pushes away from the wall and falls back onto the bed, dragging me down with him. I remain wrapped around him, feeling every pulse of him emptying into me until there’s nothing left. Only then does he finally break the connection, rolling onto his side, both of us gasping in the still, heavy darkness.

Good heavens. I have never felt this kind of satisfaction—no, devastation—in my life. My chest heaves as I lie there, the aftershocks still rippling through my body. My limbs feel foreign, useless, my thoughts too sluggish to form words. The darkness around us is absolute, swallowing everything in shadow, but my werewolf senses tell me exactly where I am, even without sight.

I am spent. Used. Completely undone. Not a single ounce of strength remains in me.

The weakness rolls over me in waves, and it’s almost like a heavy veil is being pulled over my mind. The alcohol I’d consumed earlier is still in my system, and the combination of exhaustion and intoxication drags me under into a deep, heavy slumber.

***

When I wake the next morning, it’s like drowning in thick, sluggish air. My senses are heavy, my head pounding with a searing ache that makes me wince the moment I move. My hand presses against my forehead, trying to ease the sharp, stabbing pain that shoots behind my eyes. A groan slips out before I can stop it, followed by a low curse that even I can’t hear clearly.

I blink rapidly, my eyelids weighed down as though they’ve been chained. Every bone in my body feels leaden, uncooperative. Goddess, I can’t even control myself as I roll slowly onto my side, still wincing with each movement. My brain feels like it’s being split apart from the inside, the pain exploding across my skull with every faint sound in the room.

“Oh, dear Goddess, please…” The words slip out in a hoarse whisper, a half-prayer for relief.

Then a sound pierces through the haze—a sharp, shrill ringing from somewhere to my right. It’s so loud it slices straight through my supernatural hearing, making me jolt upright in bed. My heart kicks up, adrenaline cutting through the fog. I blink rapidly, and that’s when I realize—

I’m not in my bedroom.

Panic shoots through me like ice water.

Okay… what the hell is going on?

My gaze darts around the unfamiliar room, my lips parting in disbelief. “What the hell…?” My voice is barely a whisper, but my heart is pounding against my ribs as though trying to break free.

The ringing doesn’t stop—persistent, merciless. I turn toward the nightstand and spot my phone vibrating across the surface. The screen lights up with my sister’s name: Lyra.

I snatch it up and press it to my ear, but before I can speak, her voice explodes through the speaker.

“Where the fuck are you, Selene?!” she screams, her tone so sharp I wince and pull the phone slightly away from my ear. “Do you have any idea how worried Dad and Mom are? Are you for real right now? Tell me where the fuck you are!”

Even with the phone held a good six inches away, her voice is still painfully loud, echoing into the quiet room.

My gaze flicks to the clock on the nightstand. 8 a.m.

Okay, calm down, Selene. Calm. Down. What the hell is happening? Where the fuck are you?

My thoughts are a muddled mess, my mind hazy and unable to process anything coherent. I scan the room, searching for some clue, my brows knitting tightly.

Lyra’s voice keeps drilling into my ear, relentless, demanding explanations. She’s not cruel—she’s worried—but right now, I can’t even blame her sharpness. Because even I have no answers.

Before I can think of anything to say, I feel a shift in the bed behind me. The movement makes me stiffen instantly, my body locking up. Slowly, I turn my head—

And freeze.

Lying there is a man. A naked, gorgeous man I have never seen before in my life.

Oh. Goddess.

His bare skin is golden in the dim morning light, muscles rippling as he turns slightly, the duvet just barely covering the most intimate parts of him. His face is relaxed in sleep, his breathing deep, completely unaware of my presence.

And gods, he is beautiful. Beautiful in a way that makes my stomach flip, in a way that feels entirely unfair. The moon goddess must have hand-sculpted him, gifting him a face and body that could ruin nations.

But beauty isn’t the question here. The real question is—what the hell is he doing in this bed with me?

And more importantly—what exactly happened last night?

Lyra’s voice still blares through the phone, yanking me back to the present. I lift it to my ear again, my hand trembling. “Lyra. Please calm..." I begin, my voice hushed, but she cuts me off.

“Shut the fuck up! You have no right to tell me what to do right now,” she snaps, her fury spilling through every word.

My heartbeat is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

How am I supposed to explain this—when I can’t even remember?

Then, in the middle of my panic, my wolf speaks up in my mind. Her voice is sharp, accusing, dripping with disdain.

*You’re so damn stupid, Selene.*

I frown, my brows pulling together. “What the hell are you talking about?” I whisper under my breath.

*Even after you decided to go rogue, to play the villain—you still don’t remember?*

Before I can respond, she shoves the memories into me, each one flashing like lightning.

The club. The blinding lights. The bitter determination burning in me after my father’s humiliation. The way I swore to myself I would defy him. The dancing—wild, reckless—surrounded by men drawn to the pull of my heat.

And then—

Oh shit...

My gaze flicks back to the man sleeping beside me.

Oh, Goddess.

Don’t tell me…

Don’t tell me this is what...

Oh crap.