Elena's POV

His gaze locked onto me without wavering. Meeting it sent a jolt through my system-something intense, primal, almost confrontational in its ferocity. Suddenly, I felt stripped bare, as if his stare alone could peel away every layer I'd wrapped around myself.

And yet, I couldn't look away. Wouldn't.

Our gazes tangled in a wordless battle, the world beyond the elevator's mirrored walls dissolving into irrelevance. As his eyes traced a slow path over my tear-streaked face, my rumpled dress, heat flooded my veins while my heartbeat hammered against my ribs.

Some traitorous part of me-some deep, animal instinct I didn't know I possessed-screamed to launch myself into his arms, to demand he finish with his mouth what he'd started with those devastating eyes.

The thought jolted me back to reality like ice water down my spine.

What the hell are you doing, Elena?

I mentally slapped myself, hard. This man was Eric Thompson. Billionaire Alpha. The most powerful wolf in the Eastern Seaboard.

And-the cruelest cut of all-the future brother-in-law to Mark!

People at their level never look twice at women like me-not for anything real, anyway. Mark had taught me that lesson in the most brutal way possible. I wouldn't-couldn't-be that foolish again.

I scrambled to my feet, wiping furiously at my cheeks with the back of my hand. I clutched my purse to my chest like a shield.

I made to step around him, toward the open doors and blessed escape.

He didn't move.

A wall of muscle and power in an exquisite suit, he remained planted in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. One eyebrow lifted a fraction of an inch.

"You cannot walk out like that." His voice was ice as he stared down at me, those penetrating eyes raking over me with an intensity that felt like a physical brand.

"Like what?" I snapped, following his gaze downward.

Oh, God.

My breath caught as I finally saw it-the bodice of my dress was torn, gaping open to expose far too much of my chest. Heat flooded my cheeks. The guards. The struggle. They must have ripped it during that brutal drag to the elevator. I fumbled to gather the torn fabric, pressing it closed with one shaking hand pressed against my sternum.

But why did he sound so possessive about it? As if I belonged to him? I couldn't recall ever being this close to him before, never having exchanged a single word. I masked my mortification, lifting my chin in defiance.

"What I wear is my choice," I said firmly, attempting to step around him.

His arm shot out, wrapping around my waist, and he hauled me back against him with breathtaking ease.

I couldn't tolerate this-this casual assumption of authority over my body. I pushed against his chest, struggling to break free. But the moment my palms made contact with the heat of him through that fine suit, a jolt of raw desire shot through my fingers, arcing straight to my core. I trembled. Our eyes met, and I watched his darken, the storm clouds gathering into something thunderous.

"Don't even think about it," he bit out, the words dripping with arrogant disdain. "I will not allow anyone to appear at my sister's wedding looking so indecent, so disgraceful."

That did it. That smug, sanctimonious tone ignited something feral in me.

I dropped my purse to the floor with a satisfying thud. Before I could think, before I could question my own sanity, I grabbed the ruined, dangling bodice and yanked.

The fabric tore away completely, the sound loud in the charged silence. What remained was a tight, sleeveless micro-dress that barely skimmed my thighs.

"Now are you satisfied?!" I spat, my chest heaving, my eyes blazing into his.

He went utterly still.

Then a low sound-almost a growl-escaped him. In one motion he grabbed me and pressed me against the wall, his body crowding mine dangerously close. His earthy scent surrounded me, overwhelming my senses while my pulse went wild and my legs threatened to give out.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he growled near my neck, his breath hot against my skin, eyes darker than before. "Is this your game? Parading yourself to lure men?"

"What shit are you talking about?" I scolded and pushed hard against his chest. "I'm trapped in an elevator with a torn dress-what exactly was I supposed to do? What would YOU have done?"

His jaw tightened to granite. He said nothing.

Without another word, he yanked off his jacket and threw it around my shoulders. Before I could process what happened, he hit the button. The doors slid open, and he strode out, leaving me standing there shaken, wrapped in fabric that smelled like him.

I stepped out wearing his jacket as the elevator doors shut coldly behind me.

Humiliation burned through me like wildfire, his accusations echoing in my skull-those cruel, cutting words implying I was some kind of wanton creature, flaunting myself for male attention. Rage lodged in my throat, thick and suffocating.

And yet.

I pulled his jacket tighter. That wild, masculine scent wrapped around me, sinking into my skin, making my legs weak, stirring something I desperately tried to suppress, something I refused to acknowledge.

I hated it. Hated that my body responded this way. Hated that it was HIM-of all people.

Eric Thompson-brother to the woman who'd stolen Mark away from me. The absolute last man I should feel anything for--

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

The mocking voice stopped me cold as I hurried toward the exit, desperate to escape this nightmare. I looked up.

Selene. Mark's sister.

I kept walking. I had no energy for her games.

But she stepped directly into my path, blocking my escape.

"What are you doing here, Elena?" Her tone dripped with contempt. "Hoping to trap my brother again?"

Before I could respond, two of her friends joined her. Their eyes dragged over me with open disgust, their lips curled in mockery.

"Trap your brother again?" I scoffed. "Please. I wouldn't touch that gold-digging, smooth-talking traitor with a ten-foot pole."

"Listen to who's talking!" Selene's voice pitched higher, and her friends erupted in sycophantic laughter. "If you're not interested, then why are you here? To cry and beg him to take you back? Don't you have any shame, showing your face here?"

"What I do here is none of your business-or your snake of a brother's, Selene." I matched her venom with my own.

Her eyes hardened. "Deny it all you want, but we won't have trash like you hanging around to ruin this big day. Get out."

"Oh, please." I stood my ground, not budging an inch. "Whatever sordid little drama you people have going on here has nothing to do with me. I dumped your pathetic brother long before any of this happened."

My defiance only fueled her rage. She snapped her fingers, shrieking, "Security! Over here! Get this piece of garbage out of my sight!"

I didn't move.

The two guards approached-then stopped dead. Their eyes fell on the jacket draped over my shoulders. Their nostrils flared as they caught the scent radiating from it: the unmistakable, overpowering signature of an Alpha.

They hesitated.

Selene followed their gaze. When she registered the jacket-and the wild, dominant pheromones clinging to it-her face contorted with ugly recognition.

"Whore," she spat, the word dripping with poison. "That's all you're good for, isn't it? Spreading your legs for anyone with power."

Something inside me snapped.

My hand moved before my brain could intervene.

Crack.

The slap echoed through the corridor, my palm connecting with her cheek in a satisfying explosion of impact.

She gasped, clutching her face, too stunned to retaliate.

"Miss Elena." One of the guards spoke stiffly, carefully avoiding my eyes. "Please leave the premises."

I was already walking, my spine rigid, my pulse roaring in my ears. I didn't look back. No one dared stop me. The guards kept their distance, their gazes flickering nervously to the jacket still draped across my shoulders.

***

Outside, the weather changed suddenly and rain began to pour down without mercy. Within seconds, I was soaked and shivering. Panic tightened my chest as I thought of the jacket. I couldn't let it be ruined. I hurried into a dark corner beside the building where there was some shelter, pressing my back to the wall and praying the rain would ease.

That was when I sensed it.

Low voices. Rough laughter. And heavy footsteps drawing closer.

I looked up, and my stomach dropped.

Three men emerged from the shadows, their eyes crawling over me with slow, deliberate intent.

"God..." The whisper escaped my lips, barely audible over the drumming rain. "Someone-anyone-get me out of this."

Elena's POV

The rain hammered down harder, drumming against the shelter as if it knew I was trapped.

The three men spread out slowly around me, blocking the light and the air. Their eyes moved over me with mischief, and my heart pounded hard.

Oh God, I need help! I prayed.

"Well now, what do we have here?" one drawled without any trace of kindness in his smile. "All by yourself in this little hideaway."

The second chuckled, a low, ugly sound. "And dressed like that. A bit obvious, don't you think?"

My fingers clenched around the jacket as I pressed myself harder against the concrete wall.

"Stay back," I warned, forcing steel into my voice despite the tremor threatening to betray me. "I don't want any trouble."

They exchanged glances, amusement flickering in their eyes.

"Trouble?" The first one scoffed. "Who said anything about trouble? We're just here to keep you company."

My heart kept pounding so loud I was sure they could hear it. I glanced around, searching for an opening, any way out. There was none. Yet I decided to push through.

The moment I tried to run past them, one of them stepped in front of me, fast and effortless. "Not so quick," he said.

I turned the other way but was locked again. My breath came in sharp gasps as panic set in. Then a pair of hands grabbed the jacket.

"Let go!" I shrieked, but they yanked it away, the fabric slipping from my grasp. Cold air hit my rain-soaked skin. The sleeveless dress clung to me like a second skin, translucent and obscenely revealing.

"Damn," the first man breathed, his gaze raking over me with naked hunger. "Look at you. Playing hard to get in that?"

The second laughed outright, his eyes crawling over every curve. "Wandering around dressed like a wet dream, and you expect us to believe you're innocent?"

Shame scalded me, hotter than any fear. I wrapped my arms around myself, trembling violently. "It's not what you think!" I snapped. "Stay away from me!"

They didn't stay away. They advanced.

I swung wildly, trying to connect with anything-a face, a throat, anything to fight back. But I was human, and they were wolves. I never stood a chance.

One caught my wrist, twisting it behind my back with brutal efficiency. Pain shot through my shoulder.

"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing.

The second stepped in, grabbing my waist, his fingers digging into my skin. "Relax," he murmured against my ear. "We're just having a little fun."

I kicked. I fought. I threw everything I had into breaking free. It was useless. I was shaking, soaked, weak.

"Help!" I screamed again, my voice cracking with terror. "Someone help me!"

Their laughter echoed. "Who's listening?" one mocked. "Everyone's at that big wedding ceremony."

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the rain. Fear crushed my chest, making it impossible to breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying-begging-for something, anyone to save me.

One of them reached for my thigh.

Then-

"Get your hands off her. Now."

The next few moments blurred into chaos.

One rogue was hurled aside as if he weighed nothing. Another screamed as he hit the ground with a sickening crunch. The third didn't even have time to flee. Eric moved with lethal precision-no wasted motion, no mercy-only raw, devastating power. When it was over, the rogues groaned and scrambled away, crawling into the rain like the vermin they were.

Then he turned to me.

The fury in his eyes banked slightly as they found mine.

And my legs gave out.

Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground, pulling me against a solid chest. I clutched his coat without thinking, my fingers digging in as my body shook.

"I've got you," he said quietly.

I couldn't stop trembling. The cold had seeped into my bones, and my head felt light. His hand brushed my forehead, his touch suddenly urgent.

"You're burning up," he muttered. "Damn it."

He lifted me easily, holding me close as if I weighed nothing at all.

I buried my face against his chest, drawing in his warmth. His scent surrounded me and made everything else fade away.

"Keep your eyes open, Elena," he said with quiet force.

I managed a weak nod, holding onto him like he was my only lifeline. He carried me toward the car with steady strides.

"Closest hospital," he told the driver. "Move fast."

The door slammed shut, sealing out the storm. I was still shaking-violently, uncontrollably. Ice ran through my veins while my head throbbed with feverish heat.

"Stop moving," he instructed.

I tried to obey, I really did. But my body had its own agenda. My fingers found him again, fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling myself closer to the furnace of his body.

"I'm so cold." The whisper escaped me, pathetic and small.

His breath caught. Then he was stripping off his jacket, draping it over me, his hands lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary as he tucked it around my shoulders.

"There," he breathed. "That'll warm you."

But the jacket wasn't enough. It only made me want to burrow deeper, closer. My grip on his shirt tightened, and I pressed myself against him, seeking more of that heat.

His jaw clenched. "You're not helping matters."

For reasons I couldn't begin to explain, his scent wrapped around me like an incantation, a spell I had no power to break. Eric's jacket had chased away the cold, but it had done something far more dangerous-it had scrambled my senses entirely. I craved more warmth. More of him.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was moving closer, climbing into his lap, straddling him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if my body recognized something my mind refused to accept.

"Elena." His voice was a warning-low, rough, strained to breaking. "Don't."

I barely heard him. The world had shrunk to the rhythm of his breathing, the thunder of his heart beneath my palm, the overwhelming presence of him filling every corner of my consciousness.

When my lips found his, something snapped.

He cursed-a raw, guttural sound-and then the privacy divider was sliding up, sealing us in a cocoon of darkness and heat. His pheromones flooded the space, thick and intoxicating, making my head spin and my bones ache with a sweet, unfamiliar longing. My kiss was clumsy, desperate, but it triggered something primal in him.

Every last thread of his control unraveled.

He hauled me closer, devouring my mouth with a hunger that spoke of years of restraint finally shattered. A moan escaped me-shameful, wanton-and my body responded in ways I'd never experienced. Pleasure rippled through me, sharp and overwhelming. Even with Mark, I'd never felt this-never this wild, this consuming, this utterly lost in another person.

I arched against him, grinding down, drunk on the heat building between us.

Eric matched my fervor, deepening the kiss as his hands explored, finding every place that made me weak, made me ache. His fingers slid between my thighs, parting me, finding the evidence of my arousal through the impossibly thin scrap of fabric that passed for underwear. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he hooked a finger beneath the delicate material, tugging-

The car stopped.

"Sir." The driver's voice filtered through, oblivious. "We've arrived."

The spell shattered.

Eric went rigid beneath me, every muscle locking as if doused in ice water. Then he was pulling back, his expression shuttering so completely it was as if a door had slammed shut between us.

"That should not have happened," he said, his voice rough gravel.

I wanted to ask why. I wanted to understand how we'd gone from that-from fire-to this frozen distance in the span of a heartbeat.

But the world was tilting, my vision blurring at the edges...

And then everything went dark.

Elena's POV

I woke up to the steady beep of a machine and the sharp sting of antiseptic in the air. My head throbbed as I tried to move.

"Elena! You're awake!"

A voice broke through the haze. I turned to see May, my best friend. She was right beside my bed, eyes red and tears sliding freely down her cheeks.

"That bastard," she snapped, gripping my hand tightly. "How could Mark do this to you? Cheating on you like that, then going ahead with that shameless wedding. If I see him, I swear."

"May."My throat felt dry. "What.how did you know?"

She gave me an incredulous look. "Are you serious? It's plastered everywhere. The wedding coverage, all that Thompson family money and influence...I knew seeing it would destroy you."

Flashes came back-pouring rain, rogue wolves circling, that kiss inside Eric's expensive car, and his scent still haunting my memory. Heat crept into my face unbidden.

"I'm okay," I mumbled. "But how did you even know where I was?"

"The hospital called me." She sniffed, wiping her face. "You listed me as your emergency contact. Thank God you did. When they said you collapsed, I almost lost my mind."

I nodded slowly. She didn't mention anyone else. No Alpha. No man with electrifying eyes and a voice that still echoed in my head.

I looked away and told myself not to be foolish. Eric was Bella's brother and part of Mark's family now. He was a powerful Alpha. Someone far above my world.

Whatever happened before I blacked out meant nothing and shouldn't have happened, like he said.

May's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"I swear, Elena, I won't let this go," she said, her fists clenched. "Mark thinks he can humiliate you and walk away? We should plan a revenge he'll never see coming. I already have a few ideas-he'd be completely ruined."

"Don't," I cut in quietly.

She blinked at me. "Why not?"

I looked at her, then turned away. "I don't have the time or energy to plot revenge on Mark," I said quietly. "It won't change anything."

"That's not true," she snapped. "People can't just treat you like trash and go scot-free."

"They can," I said calmly. "Especially people like him."

May frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Mark isn't just Mark anymore," I said. "He's married into the Thompson family now. He has power. Money. Connections. What am I? A human girl from nowhere. I can't fight someone like that."

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

"And even if I tried," I continued, "what would I gain? More trouble? A record? I need my severance. I need a new job. I need to survive."

She stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. "Are you... are you okay?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Do I look okay?"

"No," she admitted quietly. "But this isn't you, Elena. You're acting like it didn't hurt."

"Of course it hurt," I said. "But I can't afford to fall apart."

Her expression softened. "Elena..."

"I'm not some rich girl who can lock herself in her room and cry for months," I continued. "I have bills. Rent. My grandmother needs money for her treatment."

May swallowed hard. "Your grandmother..."

"I send money home every month," I said. "That doesn't stop just because Mark turned out to be a monster."

She shook her head slowly. "You're too strong for your own good."

"Not strong," I corrected. "Just realistic."

I leaned back against the pillow. "If anything, I should be grateful."

"Grateful?" she echoed, incredulous.

"Yeah." A sad smile touched my lips. "At least I found out who he really was before I gave him more of myself. Before I wasted more years."

I managed a small, wry smile. "Small mercies, right?"

May looked like she wanted to argue, to offer comfort or rage or reckless plans. But before she could, the door opened.

A doctor walked in, clipboard in hand.

"Time for a quick checkup," he said.

May fell silent, but her gaze remained fixed on me, heavy with unspoken concern.

"Good morning, Elena," the doctor greeted, his tone professionally pleasant. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I managed, though my head still felt stuffed with cotton. "When can I leave?"

"Soon," he assured me with a nod. "You arrived with a high fever and severe shock, but you've responded remarkably well to treatment."

As he spoke, my eyes wandered around the room-taking in the expansive windows, the plush furniture, the private bathroom tucked neatly in the corner. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach.

"Doctor," I ventured carefully, "this room... it's rather nice."

He smiled benignly. "You're in one of our VIP suites."

My heart stuttered. "VIP suite?" I struggled to sit up straighter. "There must be some mistake. I can't possibly afford this."

"Don't worry about that," he said smoothly. "All expenses have been prepaid."

I went still. "Prepaid? By whom?"

The doctor glanced at his tablet. "Alpha Eric Thompson. He's covering everything-the room, all medications, any follow-up care you might need."

A strange warmth flooded the room. "Oh," I breathed, the sound small and inadequate.

He nodded politely. "Rest well." And then he was gone.

Silence crashed down in his wake.

May stared at me, her jaw hanging somewhere near her collarbone. "Wait. Eric Thompson? As in... Bella's brother?"

I dropped my gaze to my hands. "Yes."

Her eyes were saucers. "Elena, you never said you knew someone like that."

"I don't, really," I said quickly-too quickly. "Not like that. He just... helped. After the rogues attacked. He intervened."

I tried to sound casual, matter-of-fact. But it wasn't that simple, and I knew it. There was something between Eric and me-even if it existed only in my fevered imagination.

Still, a hollow ache settled in my chest. He hadn't come. He hadn't even visited. May would have told me if he had. That alone told me everything I needed to know about where I stood. So why pay for everything?

Guilt, maybe. For what almost happened in his car. Hush money to ensure I stayed quiet. Or compensation-because his sister had married the man who shattered me.

I closed my eyes, my thoughts spinning.

Whatever this was, I couldn't afford to read into it. Men like Eric Thompson didn't do anything without calculation.

And somehow, that thought hurt more than if he had.