Chapter Two

ELENA

As I stood there, I watched his eyes travel across my breasts, then up my shoulders, my neck before trailing back down my stomach. A shudder escape my lips as he reached for the dress around my waist himself. With a single yank, I was standing completely bare.

He resumed his assessment of my body, his eyes strict and careful at the same time.

He moved around me in slow circles, and my heart pounded harder with every step he took. All these years, I could run from him all I wanted. But now, I was frozen.

When he paused behind me, my heart stopped and I felt the warmth of his chest brush my back-a silent touch that made me forget to breathe. Then, just as quietly, he stepped forward again, his gaze meeting mine.

"Turn around"

I did and found myself facing his bed -it didn't appear to me as a bed now. If felt like a platform where I was going to be offered as a lamb to this wolf behind me. I took a terrified gulp.

I felt a thousand sparks on my skin as his fingers brushed through my hair with masculine softness, sweeping it over one shoulder, leaving my back exposed to him. I stiffened slightly as his hand settled at the nape of my neck, his touch intense.

"I've been looking forward to this too, little shrimp." His whisper filled my ear and before I could even process, I found myself chest flat on the bed with a single push followed by his crushing weight on me almost immediately.

Quickly, I planted my hands against the surface of the bedframe to still myself. I felt his fingers drawing lines down my spine teasingly.

His finger kept trailing till I felt its slow slide into my core- unexpected. My eyes dropped shut as I felt a sudden tremor grip me, as if every nerve in me had just been awoken. He turned and twisted inside me- a shiver of pleasure shot down my spine, so intense it nearly buckled my knees.

He must've noticed my purge of pleasure cause he let out a soft amused scoff before I felt his continued breathing over my ear. He started out slowly but when I thought he was done, his finger slid out of me only to replace it with the thickness of his cock and I pressed my face against the bed to soak up the shooting tears.

As he continued in his rhythmic dance, his hands gripped my shoulders, firm and commanding, and a low growl rolled out of his throat-a sound that made my body thrum with heat. I was already trembling, nails digging deep into the bedding, anchoring myself as wave after wave of anticipation coiled in my belly.

He yanked my hair back, forcing my neck arching. A sharp gasp tore off my lips as my chest lifted off the sheets, spine curving instinctively toward him. The hurting-I ached for more. I could feel him-with every added inch-pressing against the deepest parts of me.

A searing heat unfurled between my thighs-wet, warm, and smearing explosion. I couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure. It burned, but I craved it.

His hands left my shoulders, trailing down my sides, slow and deliberate, making my skin pebble beneath his touch. He found my breasts, cupping them possessively, his fingers kneading and pinching with dexterity until a moan tore from my throat, unbidden and loud. I couldn't hold it back anymore.

I heard him chuckle low behind me, the sound wicked and satisfied. "Aren't you a shameless slut?." He murmured smoothly and I bit down on my lip, desperate to keep myself from falling apart too soon-like I always do.

His hips kept moving; deep, measured thrusts that left no space between us, our gasps filled the dark air. His hands slid down again, abandoning my breasts only to clamp tight around my waist. And then he drove in harder.

My body rocked beneath him, caught between the weight of his grip and the way he filled me so completely. I cried.

It was overwhelming.

Every moan he dragged from my lips seemed to drive him further, deeper into the raw edge of pleasure where pain met ecstasy, and I welcomed it, shaking, breathless, begging in silence for more.

Each thrust felt like a challenge, daring me to break. But I bit my lip hard refusing to yield.

When he pulled away, I lay there breathless, limbs boneless, still anchored to the sheets.

He leans over me again- and his lips press to my ear, sending a tremor through my core.

"You weren't as bad as I imagined, little shrimp." he chuckled, giving my hair a caressing tug. "Your first time, and you already know how to please."

He admitted he was pleased with me? For once? My heart fluttered in disbelief, thudding wildly.

A rare kind of joy bloomed in my chest, soft and uncertain. I was holding back my smile.

But before I could hold onto that fragile hope, his voice rose -firm and bitting above me;

"But what you must never forget is that... I, Emmet Domean can not be tied down by mate bond. You're mine and mine alone and you belong to my bed ... Only! That's the only use you're ever gonna be to me."

After hearing those words, I continued panting against the sheet but it felt like I wasn't breathing. My eyes hung wide as my heart shattered in fragments.

Those were the most heartbreaking words I ever heard from him. I had just given my virginity to the man I’d longed for, dreamed about, suffered for -and all he had to say was that I was only good for his bed?

When he left me that night, I didn’t wait for the door to fully close before the tears came. The tears I had been holding back all along poured out of me, hot and uncontrollable. The ache in my chest was unbearable, threatening to cut my breath. The moans of pleasure that had filled these room for hours were now replaced by loud hurtful cries I couldn't hold back.

I thought he would call me in the next night, but I don't even see him throughout the day. I never felt more alone. Was this everything I had been waiting for all my life? I thought maybe... he’d change. But he hasn't. Fucking me didn't change how he saw me.

Even at the dinning table, he barely looked in my direction. Somehow, becoming his wife has made me even more invisible than before.

The third evening was ball party thrown to celebrate us for our wedding.

I was dressed in red, standing before the mirror, trying to hold myself together. The gown hugged me perfectly, the color bold against my skin. I didn’t hear his approach. I only saw his reflection in the mirror, appearing behind mine like a ghost, making me flinch.

"Why aren't you on the floor yet?" His voice was soft, but it carried a weight that chilled me.

"I... I'm getting ready." I whispered.

He sighed sharply, jaw tight. His eyes flicked downward, lingering on my back, then rising to meet mine in the mirror. I looked away.

He reached forward, fingers tugging at my sleeves, pulling them down slightly. Enough to allow my cleavage come into view.

The wave of heat crawling up my neck was betrayed by the flushing of my cheeks.

"That’s better," he murmured by my ear. He scanned my reflection again, adjusting a strand of my hair before stepping back.

He took my hand, and together we left the packhouse, entering the yard where guests sat around candlelit table, the dance floor shimmering in the center.

We walked arm in arm, the perfect image of a happy couple. I was excited at first. I smiled. I had to. But inside, I felt cold- because I couldn't say the same about about how he felt.

He didn’t look at me. His grip was firm, but void of warmth. When we met guests, he smiled-a bright, charming mask but once they were gone, his expression fell blank again. Sometimes he even let go of me.. before realizing it.

As if the evening wasn't going unkind enough, she arrived.

A tall, graceful woman descending the stairs. The slit in her gown revealed long legs and poise that demanded attention. Stephanie-Daughter of Dominic Excalire, head of the biggest Werewolf Academy in Wolf-Hill

Earlier, I’d caught a glimpse of her outside with a man in a green fur coat. He had been with her even while she took photos of herself. Now, she was alone.

The moment Emmet saw her, his expression shifted.

I had known of their friendship- the odd closeness between them. But told myself it didn’t matter. We were bonded now. I was his mate. I was closer to him than any other female could ever be. But seeing the look in his eyes as they locked onto hers made my stomach twist. A cold wave of jealousy washed over me.

As Stephanie walked toward us, I instinctively moved closer to Emmet, but he didn’t react. Not until she was right in front of us.

"It’s lovely to see you, Emmet," she said sweetly, then glanced at me. "And your beautiful mate."

Her tone was smooth, but I heard the bite beneath it. I smiled anyway, trying to hide the sting. Emmet took her hand -too slowly, too deliberately. I couldn't watch anymore.

"Excuse me. I need a minute." I said, heart pounding as I pointed towards the restroom.

"Sure," Emmet replied, distant.

I walked off quickly, my heels clicking against the tiles of the restroom floor. On the toilet, I sat and bit my lip hard. My chest tightened with something I couldn’t name -I was suddenly feeling nervous, like something terrible would happen; was it fear? Was it just jealousy?

After calming myself down, I stood holding the door of the stall closed only to turn around to face a tall man blocking the exit. My heart skipped at once.

"Mrs. Domean," he called politely.

The green fur coat- It was the man I’d seen with Stephanie earlier. He pulled his back off the wall and began walking closer and my steps froze, my instincts recoiling.

"Who are you?" I asked when he stopped right in front of me.

Instead of answering, his smile lingered, unreadable.

He glanced around the empty restroom, then leaned in just slightly -close enough for me to catch a faint, cologne.

"Funny place to be alone, isn’t it?" he added, voice soft but pointed.

After those words, I lost every reason I had to be skeptical. I’d grown up with male pack mates who found it amusing to play at stalking -this felt no different.

I shifted my weight and sighed.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me…” I murmured, turning for the gap between him and the exit only for him to step on my way and smile.

"Out of my way." I frowned.

"You look so pretty, by the way" he said, but there was no warmth in his voice. Just then the click of the exit door opening caught my attention. Before I could even see who it was, I felt his grasp on my hand. Unexpected. Denying me any time to figure what was happening, he pulled me into his arms, then shoved me hard against the wall.

His lips crashed into mine. I had no time to react.

I fought. I pushed, but he was taller, stronger. I couldn’t even move.

I was still held under him when my eyes rolled sideways towards the door that was now wide open.

My eyes grew wide -Emmet stood there, fists clenched, with nostrils flaring.

The man must've noticed Emmet's presence now cause he suddenly drew back from me.

Emmet wasn't alone. Stephanie appeared beside him, her expression unreadable until I saw the faint curl of a smirk on her lips -that's when I realized.

I had been set up.

My fingers quivered against my lips as I watched Emmet’s eyes ignite with fury, his claws sticking out with a sharp, deliberate menace.

The man saw this and shifted into an enormous wolf, bursting out through the glass window and disappearing into the night.

I looked at Emmet.

"It’s not what it looks like..." I began, voice shaking.

"Guards!" he roared.

Within minutes, I found myself in a cold, filthy cell. The air was thick with rot. My bare feet pressed into damp, gritty stones. My heart thudded against my ribs like they would break anytime.

He didn’t let me explain...

Would he even believe me? I had seen Stephanie’s smirk even as the guards dragged me away.

I should have known something was up the moment I saw that man coming to me. I should've known from his odd words.

Time crawled and the dark pressed in yet I never stopped pacing up and down the cell. I just needed Emmet to come and then I'll exp....

I could smell it -his scent. He was here.

I stood quickly, hands clenched to my sides. His footsteps echoed closer, each one louder than the last.

I was facing the door even before his silhouette appeared beyond the bars.

Then the gate creaked open.

He stepped inside, cracking his knuckles. Rage burned off him like fire. It was almost visible.