Elena’s POV

The leather seat burned against my cheek as Theophilus’ hand pinned me down, his weight crushing. His breath was hot, sharp with bloodwine and dominance, filling the confined space until my wolf cowered.

“Stop struggling,” he growled, his amber eyes glowing brighter, his claws grazing my skin. “You’re mine tonight.”

Rage and terror twisted in my chest. No. I had not clawed my way back from death, had not endured Damien’s cruelty or Stella’s poison, just to be ...