LOGINLila’s POV
THE FIRST thing I noticed was the dirt.
Not the fresh-turned grave soil, though that was piled high at the edge like a wound waiting to be stitched. No. It was the mud caking everyone’s boots, the streaks across black slacks, the faint tang of earth and sweat that clung to these men like a second skin.
And then there was me.
The pointed heels of my designer pumps sank into the ground with every step, threatening to snap at the stiletto. My navy sheath dress clung to my thighs like it belonged at a corporate board meeting, not in the middle of the Hollow Ridge cemetery. A cold autumn wind licked at my bare legs, carrying the whispers of the pack.
She came back?
Look at the ring on her finger. A diamond like that doesn’t belong in these woods.
Glass tower princess.
The weight of their stares pressed harder than the cloudy sky above. They didn’t look at me like I was one of them anymore. I wasn’t. Not since I’d left.
My throat tightened, but I lifted my chin anyway. If I let them see me crack, I’d never recover.
I took another step. The heel caught on a root. My ankle wobbled.
A laugh—low, sharp—rippled through the gathered wolves. My stomach dropped, humiliation burning through me. My hand shot out for balance, but found nothing but air.
And then… heat.
A rough hand seized my elbow, iron-strong, keeping me from face-planting into the dirt. My body slammed against a chest I knew before I dared look up.
Hard. Solid. Familiar in a way that made my heart stutter.
“Careful.”
The word was a growl, low enough only I could hear. His fingers dug into my arm, not gently but possessively, like he had every right. His head bent close until his lips nearly grazed the shell of my ear.
“You don’t belong here anymore, princess.”
The word dripped with disdain, but the warmth of his breath scorched my skin. Heat curled low in my stomach, treacherous, unwanted. I hated that my body remembered him even when my pride screamed otherwise.
“Let go, Jacob.” My voice didn’t shake, though my pulse did.
He did, but only after lingering a beat too long, like he wanted me to know he could have held on. Like he wanted to brand me with the reminder of his strength.
I staggered back a step, lifting my chin, forcing my heels to stand tall even as mud clung to them. His green eyes pinned me in place, sharp as broken glass. They had always been that way, cutting, assessing, stripping me bare until I felt exposed.
The crowd around us buzzed again, like sharks scenting blood.
And then—smooth, practiced—Adrian slid in beside me.
My breath hitched. For a heartbeat, I thought I’d imagined him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He’d told me to go alone, that I needed to face this first step by myself.
“Adrian?” I whispered, stunned.
His arm wrapped around my waist, warm and steady, pulling me flush against his side. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m late.” His lips brushed my temple in a perfect public display. His voice was pitched just right, rich and commanding, meant to carry to the ears straining around us. “I canceled a two-hundred-billion-dollar meeting for this. Do you think I’d let my only queen stand here alone in her toughest hour?”
The words rippled through the mourners. Heads turned, whispers changed shape. The diamond on my finger no longer looked like exile, they saw it now as protection, power.
Relief and guilt tangled inside me. My chest loosened just a fraction as I leaned into Adrian’s touch, clutching his arm like a lifeline. He smelled of expensive cologne and city power, not pine and steel like Jacob.
Adrian’s thumb brushed soothing circles against my hip, an anchor. “Forgive me for letting you take those first steps alone,” he murmured, just for me. “But I’m here now. And I won’t leave you to the wolves.”
I swallowed, throat tight. The timing, the way he swooped in like a knight—it was calculated, perfectly staged. But it still steadied me.
Adrian pressed a kiss to my temple again, his smile flawless for the audience. He was everything polished and civilized, the armor I wore against the jagged edges of this place.
But when I dared glance back, Jacob’s stare hadn’t shifted. It tracked me, seared into me, as though no fiancé, no diamond, no world I had built could shield me from it.
The priest droned on. Words about eternity, about duty, about the one we buried today, words that blurred as the cold air bit at my lungs. I barely heard them. All I could hear was my heart, hammering against my ribs, because Jacob’s gaze never released me. Not once.
And damn me, but part of me didn’t want it to.
By the time the last clump of dirt hit the coffin, the whispers had dulled. People drifted toward cars, jackets pulled tight, voices low. The pack moved like a tide, strong and unified, while I clung to the edge like driftwood.
Adrian wrapped my coat tighter around my shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here, love. You’re freezing.”
“Yes.” My voice sounded far away, like I was agreeing on autopilot.
Because I felt it before I saw him, Jacob’s presence, circling like a wolf in the dark.
I turned, and there he was, blocking my path between the rows of gravestones. He didn’t look at Adrian. Didn’t even acknowledge the man standing right there with me. His eyes were locked on mine.
“Lila.” My name was a warning, a memory, a scar.
Adrian stiffened beside me, his arm tightening around my waist like a claim. I could feel his body coiled, ready to step between us, but I only dug my fingers into his sleeve. My shield. My reminder of why I had left this place behind.
Jacob stepped closer. The distance shrank, leaving the cold air charged. My pulse skipped wildly when I realized how near he was, close enough that if I breathed too deeply, my chest would brush his. His voice dropped, low and rough.
“Talk to me. Alone.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”
Jacob’s eyes flicked to him, a sharp, humorless snort breaking out of his chest. “Relax, golden boy. I’m not stealing her. I just need a word.” His gaze cut back to me, unyielding. “A minute, Lila. That’s all.”
Adrian bristled, but I placed my hand over his. “It’s fine,” I said softly, though my stomach twisted. “Just a second.”
Before he could argue, I slipped free of his arm and let Jacob lead me a few paces away, far enough that Adrian’s polished composure couldn’t eavesdrop, but not so far that I didn’t feel his stare burning into my back.
Jacob stopped between two leaning gravestones, the wind catching in his jacket, making him look larger, harder, more carved from the same stone. His eyes pinned me, sharp as glass, green and merciless.
“Why the hell did you bring him here?” His voice was low but laced with fury. “Of all places—you had to drag your golden fiancé into this dirt? Into your father’s estate? You know exactly how he felt about Adrian. About the way he lured you out of here. Away from the club your father bled for.”
The words slammed into me, cold and hot at once. I clenched my jaw, holding his stare even as my throat closed tight. He wanted me to flinch, to crack, to give him something he could sink his teeth into.
But I didn’t.
I lifted my chin, forcing my voice steady. “Adrian is my fiancé. He has every right to stand by me. Here. Now.”
Jacob’s jaw flexed. His eyes burned with something raw, something I couldn’t name. For a moment, I thought he’d step closer, close the scant space between us, tear the words right out of my throat.
Instead, he let out a harsh laugh that had no humor in it. “Rights.” His lip curled. “That’s all he is to you? A man with rights?”
My heart hammered, traitorous. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to defend myself. But the words caught in my chest, heavy as the dirt under our feet.
Silence stretched between us. I was about to turn on my heels when he shattered it.
“You should go back to your glass tower,” he murmured. His voice wasn’t for anyone else. It was only for me. “This world will eat you alive.”
He stepped closer breath brushed my lips, warm against the chill. My body swayed without permission, drawn in by the magnetic pull I swore I’d buried years ago.
I forced a laugh, brittle and sharp. “And you’d like that, wouldn’t you? To see me fall on my face again?”
His jaw clenched. The green in his eyes darkened, not with mockery but something heavier. “I don’t want to see you broken, Lila.”
The words slipped out raw, stripped of the armor he usually carried. For a second, the Enforcer wasn’t standing in front of me, just Jacob, the boy who used to walk me home under the pines, the one who always stood half a step behind me like a shield.
I blinked at him, throat tightening. “Funny way of showing it. All I’ve heard from you today is that I don’t belong.”
“Because you don’t.” His voice cracked low, urgent. His gaze dragged over me, lingering on the thin fabric of my dress, the bare skin the cold wind teased. “This place will chew you up, spit you out, and I won’t always be there to catch you when you stumble. Don’t you get that?”
Something in me softened, traitorous. Beneath the bite of his words was something almost tender—fear. Not of me. For me.
I should’ve pulled away, should’ve hidden behind Adrian’s perfect composure, but my mouth betrayed me. “You sound like you care.”
His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for me but didn’t trust himself. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, softer, almost like a confession: “I never stopped.”
My heart gave a painful lurch.
Before I could speak, before I could let the dangerous warmth in my chest grow, Jacob stepped back. Just enough to leave me cold again.
“Run back to your glass tower, princess,” he said, voice rough but distant now, retreating behind his armor. “Before we forgot that you’re once belong to us.”
And then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd, leaving me alone standing in the mud.
But the fire he’d lit refused to go out.
Not this time.
Lila’s POV“YOU THINK you’re free now?” Adrian’s voice was calm, almost amused.I stopped in the doorway of my bedroom.The lights were off except for the lamp near the window. He stood beside it, jacket folded neatly over the back of the chair, sleeves rolled to his forearms like he was settling in for a long conversation. He looked comfortable. Patient.Like he had been waiting.My pulse began to pound, but I refused to let him see it. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.“I don’t want you to be here,” I said.He tilted his head slightly. “This is my fiancée’s room.”The word sounded different now. Possessive. Territorial.“I did not invite you,” I replied.“You do not need to.” He smiled faintly. “We are past invitations.”I stayed near the door, keeping distance between us. The events from earlier replayed in my mind. His warning. If you leave me, you lose everything.He watched me carefully, assessing. Measuring.“I assume Jacob enjoyed his dramatic entrance,” he said
Lila’s POVI WOKEup to pain.It was the first thing I felt before thought, before memory, before fear fully took shape. A dull ache wrapped around my ribs. My thighs burned when I shifted. My neck felt stiff, my shoulder sore, my jaw tight like I had been clenching it all night.I stared at the ceiling, unmoving.The room smelled like him.I did not let myself remember everything. Not yet. I catalogued instead. The weight in my limbs. The pressure behind my eyes. The way my body felt foreign, like it had been handled without permission.Adrian was gone.That was the second thing I realized, and it brought a rush of relief so sharp it almost made me dizzy. The other side of the bed was cold. The room was quiet. No footsteps. No voice. No presence pressing down on my chest.I sat up slowly.Pain flared. I bit my lip and swallowed the sound that tried to escape me. When I swung
Lila’s POVTHE SILENCE after Adrian announced the date did not feel real.It stretched too long, thick and fragile, like glass about to crack under pressure. Faces around the table froze into polite smiles, forks hovering midair, breaths held. Someone clapped. Then another. Applause followed, scattered and uncertain, like people testing whether they were allowed to react.My hands went numb.My heart hammered wildly against my chest. I did not remember standing, but suddenly I was on my feet.“I cannot,” I said, eyes wide with so much anxiety and emotional exhaustion.The words came out louder than I intended. Too sharp. Too honest.Every head turned.Adrian’s smile faltered for half a second before he recovered. “Lila,” he said gently, warning threaded beneath the softness. “You are overwhelmed. Sit down.”“No,” I said again, sha
Lila’s POVI LEARNEDvery quickly that wedding announcement dinners were not about celebration.They were about performance.The dining hall had been transformed into something ceremonial, candlelight reflecting off polished silver and crystal like the house itself was holding its breath. White florals lined the long table, elegant and restrained, as if even the decorations understood that excess would only draw attention to the cracks beneath the surface.I sat beside Adrian, my posture perfect, my smile practiced, my hands folded neatly in my lap.Every nerve in my body screamed.He reached for my hand and squeezed it gently, just enough pressure to look affectionate. His thumb brushed over my knuckles in a familiar gesture, one that used to comfort me. Tonight, it felt like a reminder.I was being watched.“Relax,” Adrian murmured, leaning close as guests took their se
Lila’s POVADRIAN’Svoice settled into the room like smoke.Not loud. Not rushed. Just present enough to make the air feel thinner.I did not turn around immediately. I let my eyes stay on the rim of my coffee cup, on the faint ring it left on the saucer, as if that circle could anchor me to something solid.“You look very busy,” Adrian said mildly. “Should I come back later?”Marco straightened beside me. I felt the shift in his posture even before I saw it, the way a man squares himself when patience is already running out.“No,” Marco said. “You should not.”That made me look up.Adrian stood by the doorway, one hand resting on the frame like he owned it. His suit was immaculate, his expression relaxed, almost amused. The kind of calm that only existed when someone believed they still held the upper hand.His eyes flicke
Lila’s POVTHE PARLORroom was too quiet for my thoughts.Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, settling on the polished wood and muted rugs like nothing in this house had ever gone wrong. The coffee in my cup had already gone cold, but I kept lifting it anyway, more for the ritual than the taste.My book lay open on my lap, unread.I had turned the same page three times without registering a single word.All I could see was the edge of my bed.The place where the boot had been.I swallowed and forced my gaze back to the page, but my chest tightened again. Vivienne’s eyes. The way they had swept the room. The way she had paused, as if listening for something that had already betrayed us.I had not told anyone.Not Michael. Not Marco. Not even Jacob.The secret sat heavy inside me, a quiet, dangerous thing.The sound of footsteps broke the stil







