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SELENE

I stormed into Howling Moon, the bass of the music thrumming through my bones like a second heartbeat.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat, whiskey, and wild magic. Werewolves, shifters, and thrill-seekers packed the underground bar, their laughter and growls blending into the night.

I wasn’t supposed to be here. It was dark, reckless, alive. It wasn’t a world for the Emerson heir, but after tonight, after the way Lucian had looked at her, I didn’t care about rules anymore.

I slid onto a barstool, the leather creaking under me.

“Something strong,” I told the bartender, a broad-shouldered shifter with gold-flecked eyes.

He gave me a once-over—my rumpled blouse, the smudged mascara I hadn’t bothered to fix—but didn’t ask questions.

Smart man.

The whiskey burned going down, but I welcomed it. Better than the ache in my chest, though it still wasn’t enough to quench the pain, the hurt, and the betrayal Lucian had left in me.

I shut my eyes and ordered another shot. I gulped it down and kept ordering more until my surroundings started to blur and lighten.

The dance floor called to me, bodies moving in a haze of sweat and desire. I didn’t belong here, not really. But for once, I wanted to be someone who did.

Then a stranger appeared. Handsome, tall, with tousled dark hair and a smirk that promised sin. His hands settled on my waist, pulling me flush against him.

“You look like you could use a distraction,” he murmured, his voice rough over the music.

I should have pushed him away. But the memory of Lucian’s kiss with Elsa made me reckless. So I let him spin me, let his fingers trace the bare skin above my waistband. I let myself forget.

Then silence. The music cut off. The air turned heavy, like the moment before a storm breaks. My skin prickled. I didn’t need to turn around to know who had just walked in.

Lucian.

The stranger’s grip tightened before he caught himself.

“Alpha,” he muttered, the word laced with instinctive fear.

I turned slowly. Lucian stood at the entrance, his broad frame blocking the dim light from the street. His jaw was clenched, his golden eyes burning through me.

Every wolf in the room had gone still, heads bowed under the weight of his fury.

“Selene.” My name was a growl in his throat.

“Come with me.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m not done.”

He paused, his eyes flickering like he had heard something shocking. This was the first time I was defying him, and worse, in such a public place.

“Selene.” His voice was edged with warning, daring me to defy him again.

I ignored him and turned back to the stranger as if Lucian’s presence meant nothing.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Two strides, and he was on us, wrenching me away with a snarl that sent the stranger stumbling back.

“Mine,” Lucian snapped, not to me but to him. The man backed off instantly, hands raised.

I scoffed, jerking my arm free.

“Yours? You don’t get to say that. Not after—”

Lucian didn’t let me finish. He dragged me outside, his grip unbreakable.

The cold air hit my flushed skin, doing nothing to douse the fire between us.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was raw.

“That place is—”

“What? Beneath me?” I shoved at his chest.

“Or are you just pissed someone else touched what you threw away?”

His eyes flashed. “I never agreed to end things.”

“You didn’t have to. You chose Elsa.” Her name tasted like ash on my tongue.

“So go ahead. Marry her. I don’t want—”

He moved too fast. One second I was glaring up at him, the next my back hit the brick wall, his body caging me in. His scent, pine and winter wind, wrapped around me. Familiar. Infuriating.

“Liar,” he murmured, his breath hot against my lips. I twisted away, but his hands were already sliding under my skirt, calloused fingers finding the place that ached for him.

My traitorous body arched into his touch. I shut my eyes, tilting my head back in ecstasy.

“Say it,” he demanded, his mouth skimming my throat.

“Say you’re mine.”

I bit my lip to stifle a moan. My head told me all the reasons this was wrong, but my body refused to listen. Why was I reacting this way? Why did I want him to go further when I should hate him?

I felt disgusted with myself, angry at him, and yet I couldn’t fight him.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He chuckled, low and dark, his thumb circling just there. I came apart with a gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.

When the stars in my vision cleared, he was watching me with smug satisfaction.

“Your body knows the truth, sweetheart.”

My chest tightened. Damn him. Damn this bond that refused to let me go.

Then his phone rang. The sound shattered the moment. He hesitated, thumb stroking my hip like he couldn’t bear to let go. But when he saw the screen, his jaw clenched.

Elsa.

“I have to take this,” he muttered. Of course he did.

I turned my face away as he answered, her name on his lips like a prayer.

“Elsa? What’s wrong?” A pause. “I’ll be there.”

He hung up, his expression torn.

“She’s not well. I have to go.”

The words shouldn’t have hurt. Not anymore.

“Then go,” I said, my voice hollow.

He cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “Wait for me. This isn’t over.”

But as he walked away, I knew the truth. I was always the one left waiting. And I was sick of it.