Elin’s POV:

A single day was all it took for my lacerations to mend completely, leaving no trace of the violence that had marred me. My body bore no scars, yet my wolf refused to stir, retreating once more into her mysterious slumber. Would she awaken again? Uncertainty gnawed at the edges of my mind, an uneasy question dangling in the quiet.

By evening, Beta Erikson appeared, entering my room like an imposing tower of authority.

“Miss Morgan,” he stated curtly, his voice devoid of warmth. “I’ve been ordered to assist with your discharge. The vehicle is waiting outside—let’s go.”

I knew all the formalities had been meticulously attended to in advance. Slipping on the coat draped over my chair—a garment that belonged to Aaron, left behind when he stormed out yesterday—I followed Erikson out. Aaron’s absence seemed deliberate, yet this coat, forgotten or intentionally abandoned, carried traces of him. Either way, it served me well to ward off the evening chill.

We crossed the parking lot in silence, Erikson leading the way. He opened the rear passenger door for me, a gesture that masked no sentiment but duty. I bent slightly, ready to climb in, when a cold shock froze me in place—all breath fled me as my gaze fell upon the long legs, encased in tailored black trousers, that unfolded in the dim interior of the car. Aaron. He was there.

The vehicle’s murky light swallowed the details of his upper form, rendering his face an elusive shadow. Yet his presence was an undeniable storm—an oppressive coldness and calculated dominance that made me shudder. Instinctively, I started to retreat, my body crying for escape. But the iron grip of his hand closed around my wrist, unyielding, dragging me into the car. I stumbled awkwardly, falling into the hard contours of his chest.

“And where exactly were you planning to go?” His breath was warm against my ear, laced with mockery. The tone cut deeper than the words themselves.

I bit my lip in silence. He was right—I had nowhere to go. The sprawling estate of the Scott family was where I should be headed, but that castle seemed colder than stone. Then there was the high-end apartment he’d bought for me in the city center, a space he entered with impunity whenever his whims dictated it. Perhaps I needed my own place, a rental, something far from his reach.

As that desperate notion tiptoed into my mind, the shrill tone of my phone shattered the fragile moment. I glanced at the screen. Fiona. Even now she intruded. Always adding fuel to the fire.

I wanted to ignore her. God only knew what petty grievances or probing interrogations she held in wait for me. Especially with Aaron here, his sharp edges cutting through the confined space of the car. But the incessant ringing didn’t relent. My eyes caught the flicker of irritation across Aaron’s brow as he issued his command.

“Answer it,” he said, his voice deep, authoritative.

Reluctantly, I slid my finger across the screen, glancing out the window, desperate to create some distance from his suffocating presence. Fiona’s voice filled the car—not just for me, but loud enough for Aaron’s sharp ears.

“Elin, today’s the day you’re discharged, isn’t it? It completely slipped my mind! Should I come pick you up?”

Casting a wary glance at the darkened man beside me, I murmured into the phone, “No, Mom. I can manage on my own.”

“Fine, but listen,” she pressed on, oblivious to my unease. “Tonight, you’ll need to meet with *him.* I’ve already arranged everything with Sinclair’s wife. Her son might only be a Delta, but—”

I didn’t allow her to finish. Shame and frustration bolted through me as I hung up abruptly. Aaron’s sardonic laughter slithered through the space between us, dragging my failing composure into deeper chaos.

“Couldn’t wait to set up a date, could you?” His voice rasped like gravel, his derision an iron fist around my stomach.

Trembling slightly, I nodded and replied, “Mom thinks... She thinks my wolf might not wake up. Finding a husband might be the best solution.”

“A Delta? Quite the choice,” he sneered, his contempt razor-sharp.

Heat flushed through my face, though defiance bubbled up in me. “At least it’s better than being a shameless third party in someone else’s life,” I shot back, my voice biting.

“Is that what you think?” His towering frame loomed closer with each word, his icy tone a venomous whisper. “Acting as though I’m already dead?”

Before I could counter, Aaron turned sharply, issuing an order to Erikson. “Pull over. Get out.”

“No!” I protested, fully aware of what awaited me in his presence—what violence, what temptation, what danger. But my resistance meant nothing. His mouth crashed down upon mine, devouring my resolve in one punishing kiss.

Obedient as always, Erikson steered the car to a stop under a roadside tree. Moments later, the sound of the door opening and closing signaled his departure, the two of us left alone in the cavernous confines of the extended sedan.

Aaron’s lips didn’t surrender. His hands moved with calculated precision, undoing the delicate closures of my dress. I’d offended him. Would he punish me by fucking my brains out? He always liked to do that...

“Uncle...” My voice trembled weakly, dizziness starting to cloud my thoughts. Perhaps it was the result of low blood sugar intensified by fear.

But he ignored my fumbling plea, his large hands spreading my thighs apart as he positioned me astride his lap. His lips sought the tender apex of my neck, the spot every bonded wolf knew as sacred—the mark of claiming. My body jolted beneath his touch, a brief flutter of hope surging through me. Would he mark me? Brand me as his?

His sharp teeth only grazed me, a fleeting hint of promise quickly replaced by the hot pursuit of his lips. They trailed downward—onto my breasts, onto the yielding softness of my nipple as his mouth latched firmly, sucking possessively.

The truth was, I hoped, no, I yearned for him to fuck me with his hard cock. I couldn’t forget the irrepressible pleasure that overwhelmed my pussy, my entire body, whenever he fucked me senseless.

Tonight, though, my dizziness worsened, and I truly feared this man might fuck me to death.

“Uncle... Please...” Tears crept into my words, my voice reduced to an imploring whisper. “I think I’m having... another low blood sugar episode...”

He froze. For the first time, his predatory hunger paused, his deep blue eyes assessing me in the dim light, sharp as a hunter eyeing frailty in its quarry.

The tears ran unchecked across my cheeks, dampening the edge of his palm. “I haven’t eaten anything today...” My voice faltered, defeated and small.

Aaron’s brow furrowed, his grip shifting to a gentler hold as the intensity faded from his expression. He laid me back, the persistent heat of his arousal still present but tempered. Then, without a word, he carried me into the apartment he’d bought for me.

He placed me on the bed with care, yet my instincts flared. Was his earlier patience only the calm before a tempest? Would his dominance resurge at any moment? But then he turned his back and walked away.

I thought he was leaving, expected him to disappear as he often did after wreaking havoc on my emotions. And though I hated myself for it, a pulse of longing flickered in my chest—I didn’t want him to go.

Minutes trickled by. My head drifted into half-lucid confusion till, suddenly, his rich voice returned, smooth and low, as though from above.

“Drink. Hot milk, with sugar added.”

My head was cradled in his hand as the rim of the warm glass met my lips. I blinked, stunned, peering at his face in disbelief. The faint curve of his lips betrayed nothing more than quiet restraint.

Had he made it himself? The mighty Alpha Aaron, domestic enough to heat milk? No. Probably Erikson.

I took a few sips, my body beginning to recover strength bit by bit. He reached to wipe a stray drop from the corner of my lips with a napkin, but I seized his hand, desperation coloring my voice.

“You haven’t answered me,” I urged.

“Always demanding,” he muttered with a sardonic smile. “The answer is simple: don’t ask again.”

I pushed further, my voice brittle with heartbreak yet fierce with resolve. “I regret it—I regret ever pursuing you two years ago.” Tears burned in my eyes, refusing to fall.

“And it’s far too early for regrets,” he returned enigmatically, his lips curling with a chilling smile. Just as he moved to pull me into his arms, the sharp trill of his phone shattered the moment.

He glanced at the screen, his brows knitting darkly before picking up. From the other end came the voice of a woman. He responded simply with an indifferent “Mm,” before cutting the line and turning away.

My heart plunged into the pit of my chest, a vice of pain tightening with every beat. The sinking realization throbbed painfully. The voice—it had been hers. Saira’s.