Three days passed, but the humiliation Marcus and Rina had carved into me didn’t fade. Their words echoed every time I closed my eyes. I worked longer hours, hiding behind the anonymity of my delivery uniform, clinging to the routine as if it might stitch my dignity back together. But nothing dulled the memory of Lucien’s touch, the way his gaze had peeled me open, seen something in me even I was afraid to name.

Rain pattered against the pavement as I hurried into the Continental Hotel, clutching a paper bag of steamed dumplings. The lobby was a gold-lit cathedral of glass and marble, but I felt like a smudge on its perfection—out of place, too human, too small. I checked my phone, confirming the order details, and looked around for the customer.

Before I could find my footing, Lucien materialized at my side. His hotel uniform hugged his broad shoulders, but his energy was all Alpha—a dangerous mix of command and heat that seemed to draw every eye. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. His hand closed over mine, his grip warm and steady, and the world shrank to just the two of us as he led me down a shadowed hallway.

“Wait—Lucien, what are you—?”

He didn’t answer. The next moment, he opened a door to an empty conference room, its high windows shrouded in rain-soaked gray. He stepped inside, pulling me with him. The door clicked shut, muffling the distant sounds of luxury.

My heart thudded as he pressed me against the cold wall, the takeout bag tumbling to the carpeted floor. He caged me in with his arms, his scent washing over me—earth, ozone, and something wild that made my mouth go dry. I tried to push him away, to ask what he wanted, but my body betrayed me, remembering all too vividly the hunger he'd awakened in the elevator.

His eyes burned gold in the dim light. "Three days, Selena. Did you think about me? Or did you try to forget?"

I tried to find my voice. "I—I don’t know what you want from me."

He smiled, slow and knowing, as if he could taste the tremor in my words. His hand slid down my waist, gathering my skirt in his fist. His other palm pressed flat against my thigh, inching higher until his fingers found the soaked cotton of my underwear.

I gasped—half in shock, half in shame. My hips jerked against his touch, but he only pressed harder, his fingers expertly tracing the outline of my swollen clit through the damp fabric. The friction sent sparks racing up my spine, my knees threatening to buckle.

"You’re already so wet for me," he murmured, voice velvet-dark. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, and I felt the rumble of his laughter deep in my bones. "Still think you’re just human?"

His thumb began to circle, slow and relentless. Each motion drew a helpless moan from my lips. I pressed my hands against the wall, desperate for something to ground me, but the pleasure only built—wave after wave until I could barely remember my own name.

My breath hitched. "Please—Lucien, someone could—"

He silenced me with a low growl, his mouth brushing my jaw. "Let them see. Let them smell you. You’re mine now."

His fingers hooked the edge of my underwear, slipping beneath. The first brush of his skin against my slick heat made my whole body jolt. He slid two fingers inside, stretching me—slow, deliberate, filling me in a way Marcus never had. My walls clenched around him, desperate and wanting.

"Only Omegas get this wet for an Alpha’s scent," he whispered, moving his fingers in torturously slow circles. "You still want to pretend you’re just like them?"

My answer was a broken gasp, all resistance burned away by the ache he coaxed from my body. I rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure, my thighs trembling. Every stroke brought me closer to the edge, the world narrowing to the heat pooling between my legs and the wicked promise in Lucien’s eyes.

But just as the tension inside me reached its peak, his fingers withdrew. The loss was so abrupt I whimpered, clinging to his shirt, my body trembling with need. He brought his slick fingers to my lips, tracing them across my mouth—claiming, marking, reminding me who had done this to me.

He smiled, slow and wolfish. "You’re changing, Selena. And soon, you’ll beg me to finish what I started."

He stepped back, leaving me breathless, legs weak, my body still pulsing with denied release. I watched him go, my mind a storm of confusion and desire, shame and longing.

Alone in that empty room, I pressed trembling fingers to my lips, tasting the echo of him, wondering how much further I could fall—and what would happen when I finally let him catch me.

Night pressed heavy on the city, the air pulsing with the beat from the werewolf nightclub’s neon-lit heart. I’d barely pulled myself together from Lucien’s touch in the conference room when fate—cruel as ever—threw me into the lion’s den. My sneakers squeaked on the wet pavement as I turned the corner, fast-walking to outrun my own thoughts. But there they were, Marcus and Rina, tangled together beneath the blue glow of the club’s sign, right where every wolf in the city could see.

Rina’s laughter rang out, sharp and showy as she draped herself across Marcus’s arm, her Beta scent cloying and sweet. Marcus’s hand slipped low over her hip, fingers splaying possessively across black velvet. His eyes found me instantly, his smirk stretching wide. The crowd around them—mostly young Betas and a few curious Alphas—shifted, sensing the static charge of impending drama.

I kept my chin high, but my body remembered every cruel word, every night he’d turned away from me, cold and unreachable. I tried to slip past, but Marcus stepped forward, his chest puffed out, letting his Beta pheromones roll off him in waves. The scent hit me—sour, thick, and desperate to impress. It was nothing like Lucien’s wild thunderstorm heat. Still, my nerves flared, old shame prickling under my skin.

“Well, well,” Marcus’s voice boomed, carrying over the thrum of music and the hush of onlookers. “Look who’s here—my pathetic ex. Couldn’t even satisfy a Beta, and now she’s got to walk the streets alone.”

Laughter rippled from the crowd, harsh and expectant. Rina’s eyes glittered as she pressed closer to Marcus, her lips grazing his jaw in a performance for the wolves and for me. “Maybe she’s hoping some stray will take pity on her. Or maybe she just likes to watch,” Rina purred, her voice pitched to wound.

My cheeks burned. I wanted to disappear, to shrink away, but something inside me snapped instead—a wounded animal’s pride, raw and clawing. I squared my shoulders, refusing to drop my gaze. If I let them reduce me to nothing, I’d never be free of their shadows.

Then, suddenly, the air shifted. It was as if the world inhaled and held its breath. From the darkness of the alley, Lucien emerged, his presence a silent storm. Every head turned. He didn’t need to announce himself—the force of his Alpha pheromones swept across the street, obliterating Marcus’s Beta scent in a single, overwhelming wave. The crowd stepped back, instinctively making space, their eyes wide with the primal recognition of power.

Without a word, Lucien strode to my side. His arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me against the solid heat of his body. I felt the hard line of his length pressing firmly against my backside, shockingly obvious even through layers of clothing. My breath caught, my body responding with a heat that curled low in my belly, completely at odds with the icy humiliation moments before.

Marcus’s face twisted, his bravado shriveling in the Alpha’s shadow. “What’s this, Selena? You trading up? Or just desperate for any attention you can get?” His voice wobbled, the Beta mask cracking as Lucien’s dominance pressed in from all sides.

Lucien’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing a slow, possessive circle against my hip. He leaned down, his breath brushing the shell of my ear. “Show them who you belong to," he murmured, his words a shiver of command and comfort. The crowd leaned in, hungry for spectacle, for someone to fall.

I met Marcus’s gaze, every memory of his cruelty fueling the steel in my spine. My voice rang out, clear and cold enough to cut glass: “Even if you were the last man in the world, I would never go back to you.”

The world seemed to stop. Gasps broke the silence, sharp and disbelieving. The crowd’s eyes flicked between us, then to Marcus, whose face flamed crimson. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Then a ripple of laughter spread—soft, then growing, until it echoed down the block. A human, rejecting a Beta. The impossibility of it stunned them into awe and amusement, the social order shaken before their eyes.

Marcus’s fists clenched at his sides. Rina shrank away, her hand slipping from his arm as if afraid of catching his disgrace. His Beta scent soured, tinged with panic and humiliation, utterly drowned beneath Lucien’s Alpha storm.

I let myself lean into Lucien, drawing strength from his arm, his scent, the promise of something more than shame. The crowd’s laughter faded into whispers and hungry curiosity, but I held Marcus’s gaze, refusing to let him look away. Tonight, he was the exposed one. Tonight, I was done being prey.

Lucien’s lips brushed my hair, his voice barely more than a growl. “You did well, little wolf.”

But the way his hand tightened on my waist—and the storm brewing behind his eyes—promised this public display was only the beginning. The night was far from over, and what waited in Lucien’s world would test everything I thought I knew about myself.