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.

Elena's POV

I moved in with May as soon as I was discharged. Her apartment was small and nothing like the spacious apartment Mark once provided for me, but it was enough for now.

"Elena, I'm telling you," May said, leaning against the doorframe with the air of someone repeating herself for the hundredth time, "Alpha Eric Thompson is interested. I can smell it from here."

I shook my head as I smoothed out a wrinkled blouse. "You're reading too much into it. He felt guilty, that's all. His sister stole my boyfriend, remember? He probably just wanted to even the score somehow."

"Uh-huh." May's laugh was knowing. "Men like Eric Thompson don't do guilt. They don't do favors for fun, either. They either want something, or they don't bother."

I said nothing.

But images flickered through my mind-the dark intensity in his eyes in the elevator, the way he'd looked at me as if he could devour me without touching me. That had felt like wanting. Like interest. But I refused to dwell on it. I wouldn't fool myself again.

"Look," May continued, a wicked glint in her eye, "even if it is guilt, use it. Thank him. Seduce him, if you have to. Make Mark choke on his own regret."

I spun around. "No. Absolutely not."

She blinked. "Why not?"

"Because I'm done." My voice was firm, final. "I'm not playing revenge games. I want my life back-a job, stability. I don't want Eric's charity. I'll pay him back... every cent... once I'm on my feet."

May snorted. "You're either naive or stupidly noble. Do you have any idea how long it'll take to repay someone like Eric Thompson?"

"However long it takes," I said flatly, meeting her eyes. "I'm done catering to powerful men. Done being someone's convenient entertainment. I want something real this time. Real people. Real life."

May sighed, finally backing down. "You're impossible."

She dropped it after that, but I could see it in her expression-she thought I was throwing away something valuable.

I turned back to unpacking, keeping my hands busy so I wouldn't think about him. About the way Eric smelled, the warmth of his touch, how his voice lingered in my head no matter how hard I tried to forget.

***

Two days later, I walked into Thompson Enterprises like I still belonged there. Four years I'd given this company-weekends, holidays, sleepless nights. I wasn't coming back to grovel. I just wanted what I'd earned.

I approached the HR desk and spoke clearly. "I need to process my severance package."

The woman behind the desk glanced up briefly, then started typing. She frowned at her screen, clicked a few more times, and frowned again. Finally, she looked at me. "Elena, you said?"

"Yes. Elena Grey. I reported to Mark-"

She held up one hand. "No need to explain. Just give me a second to locate your file."

Something in her tone made my stomach clench. She turned her monitor slightly toward herself, squinting at it. "This is odd."

"What's odd?" I asked, leaning forward slightly.

She sat back in her chair. "Your name isn't showing up anywhere in the employee database."

I let out a confused laugh. "That's not possible. I worked here for four years."

She typed again, slower now, more deliberate. "No employment contract. No payroll history. No benefits enrollment under your name."

My smile disappeared. "Then how did I get paid?"

She looked at me directly now. "According to this, all payments associated with your name came through Mark's personal accounts."

The air left my lungs. "Wait. What does that mean?"

She crossed her arms. "It means you were never officially employed by this company. Legally speaking, you weren't our employee."

My voice came out quiet, almost disbelieving. "So you're saying I don't exist in your system?"

She shrugged. "Correct."

Heat flooded my face. "Mark was my supervisor," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her lips curled into something cruel. "Sounds more like he was your keeper."

Rage propelled me forward until I was braced against her desk. "I'm not here begging. I'm here for my severance. I earned it."

Her gaze traveled over me, slow and assessing. "Miss Grey, from the company's perspective, you weren't fired. You were... released from a private arrangement."

"A private arrangement?" I echoed.

She nodded. "And now you're demanding compensation you're not entitled to."

The meaning sank in-ugly and humiliating. I gripped the edge of her desk. "So you're telling me four years of work means nothing?"

Her eyes turned cold. "I'd say you have some nerve, coming here like this."

The room shrank. The air thickened. I finally understood-this wasn't a mistake. It was a calculated humiliation.

She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Every proposal you touched had Mark's name first," she said. "Profit sharing, credit, approvals-all his."

"That doesn't erase my work!" I shot back. "I drafted those proposals. I ran those projects. Ask anyone on the floor."

A thin smile. "And how would we verify that?"

"Check the records," I said. "Emails. Meeting minutes. Performance reports."

She shook her head. "System access has been revoked. You're locked out."

My heart hammered. "Then pull the security footage!" I insisted. "You'll see me here every day. Early mornings. Late nights. Four years of my life isn't something I imagined!"

Her expression hardened. "Security footage is confidential."

"And stealing someone's labor isn't?" I snapped.

Her lips pressed together. "Be careful, Miss Grey."

"Careful?" A bitter laugh escaped me. "Careful about what? That I gave four years to this company and I'm nothing but... what? Mark's shadow?"

She didn't answer immediately. Then, in a voice cold and precise, she said, "Perhaps your... contributions... weren't limited to the professional realm."

Silence crashed down. I stared at her. "What does that mean?"

A tilt of her head. "Mark was first on every project. Who's to say what you truly brought to the table?"

My hands shook. "Say it," I demanded.

She met my eyes without flinching. "People might assume your influence came from... elsewhere."

The insult landed like a blow. "You're accusing me of sleeping my way through four years of work?" I whispered.

"I'm saying," she replied calmly, "that from the company's perspective, Mark Dalton was the asset. Not you."

Something inside me snapped. "I'm taking this public," I said. "Right now."

She pressed a button on her desk. "Security," she spoke into the intercom. "HR, please."

Two guards appeared in the doorway moments later.

"This woman is no longer employed here," she said, rising. "Escort her out."

I stepped back. "You can't do this."

She met my gaze. "We already have."

The guards advanced. I didn't fight. Couldn't. As they steered me out, heads turned, whispers followed.

Four years. Erased. And I was being dragged out like an intruder, like I'd never belonged at all.

The moment I was shoved out of the office, I stumbled straight into a solid chest.

Warm. Familiar. Hard.

I froze. I didn't need to look up. The scent-deep, earthy, laced with something dangerous-wrapped around me like a net. My breath caught before I could stop it.

And then his voice rolled over me, low and unmistakable.

"Why is it that every time I run into you... You look like the world just finished chewing you up and spitting you out?"