They wouldn't stop touching me.

At first, it was small things.

A hand brushing my waist.

Fingers grazing my arm when they didn't need to.

Someone standing too close behind me.

Too close. Too warm. Too heavy.

I told myself it was an accident.

Crowded party.

Busy night.

People bump into each other.

Normal.

But my skin kept crawling.

Like ants under my flesh.

Like something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I tightened my grip on the tray.

Smile.

Serve.

Walk away.

Don't cause trouble.

Don't make a scene.

That's how girls like me survive.

"Hey, waitress."

I stopped.

A man snapped his fingers at me.

Not waved.

Not called.

Snapped.

Like calling a dog.

"Drink," he said.

I poured.

He didn't even look at me.

Just stared at my chest.

Slow. Open. Shameless.

My throat burned.

"Anything else, sir?" I asked.

He smirked. "Yeah. Smile more."

I forced one.

He leaned closer. "Pretty girls shouldn't look sad. Makes men uncomfortable."

My chest tightened.

Since when did my face exist to make men comfortable?

Before I could answer, someone else grabbed the tray.

"Over here."

Then another voice.

"Girl, two more glasses."

Then another hand.

"Come closer. I can't hear you."

Too many.

Too fast.

I moved from one group to another.

But somehow

Every time

It was the same man.

The same eyes.

The same smirks.

Like they were following me.

No.

Not following.

Herding.

My steps slowed.

Wait.

That's not normal.

I looked around for Sienna.

Couldn't see her.

Looked for other staff.

Gone.

Where did everyone go?

A minute ago there were five waiters near me.

Now I was alone.

Just me and them.

My heart skipped.

Did they send everyone away?

Why?

"Drink with us."

A glass was pushed into my hand.

"I'm working," I said.

"Just one."

"I'm not allowed."

"Relax. We won't tell."

His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Something ugly hid there.

Something hungry.

"I said no," I repeated.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

"Don't be rude."

"I'm not"

"Drink."

The word wasn't a request.

It was a command.

My chest tightened.

The glass pressed harder into my hand.

Liquid sloshed.

Dark red.

Wine.

Or something else.

"Please," I said quietly. "I really can't."

Another man laughed. "She thinks she's special."

"Yeah. Acting expensive in a cheap uniform."

"Maybe she needs help loosening up."

My stomach dropped.

Loosening up.

I'd heard that phrase before.

It never ended well.

I tried to step back.

Someone blocked me.

I turned.

Another body.

Another wall.

They had formed a circle around me.

When did that happen?

How did I not notice?

My pulse was hammered.

This is bad.

This is really bad.

"Hey," I said, forcing my voice steady. "Move. Guests need drinks."

"We're guests," one of them said.

Laughter.

Low.

Ugly.

One of them leaned near my ear.

"You smell nice," he whispered.

I flinched.

"Stop."

He chuckled. "Scared?"

"Yes."

The honesty surprised even me.

They laughed harder.

Predators.

That's what they felt like.

Not men.

Predators.

And me

Prey.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my chin.

Forced my face up.

"Look at me when I talk to you."

Rage flashed through me.

"I said let go."

"Or what?"

My mind screamed for Sienna.

For anyone.

For help.

But the music was loud.

And no one looked our way.

Like this corner didn't exist.

Like we were invisible.

Like someone planned it that way.

A new voice cut in.

Smooth.

Cold.

The same man from earlier.

The one in the hallway after Roman.

The stranger with the dangerous smile.

He stepped closer.

"Well," he said lightly, "this is ugly."

The men stiffened.

"Back off," one muttered.

The stranger smiled. "You're making a mess at a King's party. That's stupid."

"So?"

"So stupid men disappear."

Silence.

They backed away a little.

Not much.

But enough.

I breathed out.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He looked at me carefully.

Like I was an object.

Not a person.

"You're the one the Alpha noticed, right?" he said softly.

My heart skipped.

"What?"

He tilted his head. "Don't pretend. Half the room saw it."

Saw what?

Him staring?

Why would that matter?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"Interesting," he murmured.

He picked up the glass from my tray.

Swirled it.

Then handed it to me.

"Drink," he said.

I shook my head. "No."

His smile stayed.

But his eyes hardened.

"It's rude to refuse."

"I said no."

He leaned closer.

"So you only drink for him?"

My chest tightened.

"I don't even know him."

"Then prove it."

The glass pressed to my lips.

My hands shook.

If I fight, they'll get angry.

If I drink, maybe they'll leave me alone.

Just one sip.

Just survive.

I took a small swallow.

Bitter.

Strange.

Not wine.

My stomach dropped.

Too late.

"Good girl," he said.

My skin crawled.

He walked away like nothing happened.

Like he hadn't just forced me.

Like this was normal.

Ten minutes later, my legs felt weak.

My head is light.

The tray felt heavy.

Too heavy.

What's wrong with me?

I barely drank.

My vision blurred.

The music sounded far away.

My fingers trembled.

No.

No no no.

They drugged me.

Panic exploded in my chest.

I need Sienna.

I need

My knees buckled.

Strong arms caught me.

But not gentle ones.

Rough.

Greedy.

"Easy," someone said. "She's about to fall."

"Take her upstairs."

"Yeah. Before someone sees."

My heart pounded.

"No," I whispered. "Let me go."

My voice sounded small.

Weak.

Like a child.

They lifted me.

Carried me.

My head spun.

I tried to fight.

My hands barely moved.

My body wasn't listening.

Tears burned my eyes.

Not like this.

Please not like this.

Not again.

Not helpless.

Not small.

Not nothing.

"Put me down," I begged.

"Relax," someone laughed. "We're helping you."

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

My vision blurred more.

Doors passed.

Hallways.

My mind screamed.

But my body wouldn't obey.

Why am I so weak?

Why can't I fight?

Then a voice.

Deep.

Cold.

Deadly calm.

"Put her down."

Everything stopped.

Even my heart.

I knew that voice.

Even half-conscious.

Even terrified.

Him.

The men holding me stiffened.

"Mind your business," one snapped.

Silence.

Then slow footsteps.

Closer.

Closer.

"You're holding something that belongs to me," he said quietly.

Something changed in the air.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Like a storm.

"She's just staff"

The next second

A crash.

A scream.

A body flying.

I blinked.

One man slammed into the wall.

Another on the floor.

Blood.

So fast.

Too fast.

He moved like lightning.

Like violence given shape.

"Touch her again," he growled, voice low and animal, "and you die."

Not shouting.

Not threatening.

Promising.

The men froze.

Fear filled their faces.

Real fear.

They dropped me.

I stumbled.

Before I hit the ground

Strong arms caught me.

Careful this time.

Gentle.

Like I was glass.

"Look at me," he said softly.

I tried.

His face blurred.

But I saw his eyes.

Bright.

Wild.

Gold.

Not normal.

Not human.

My breath hitched.

"What did they give you?" he asked.

"I... don't know..."

His jaw tightened.

Rage flashed so hard it scared me.

"I'll kill them," he muttered.

"No," I whispered weakly.

He looked down at me.

Something changed in his expression.

Not anger.

Not dominance.

Fear.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

His hand touched my cheek.

Warm.

Steady.

Safe.

Why does he feel safe?

Why him?

Why now?

My fingers clutched his shirt.

Tight.

Like if I let go, I'd fall into darkness.

"Don't leave," I whispered.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His eyes softened.

"I won't," he said.

And somehow

I believed him.

He lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.

Like I mattered.

Like I was his.

And as my head rested against his chest, listening to his wild, furious heartbeat, one thought echoed through my fading mind

Why does the most dangerous man in this house feel like the only place I'm safe?

I couldn't think.

My head felt heavy. My chest felt tight. My heart would not slow down.

Roman's arms were around me, and that was the only thing that felt real.

He carried me like I weighed nothing.

Not like a burden.

Not like a stranger.

Like something he was afraid to drop.

My fingers fisted into his shirt without permission. I did not even remember grabbing him. I just knew that if I let go, I might fall apart.

"Don't," I whispered.

My voice sounded small. Weak.

He looked down at me at once. "Don't what?"

"Don't let go."

His jaw tightened. "I wasn't planning to."

His voice was rough. Too rough. Like he was holding something back.

Or holding himself back.

When he set me down on the bed, my legs still trembled.

The drug hadn't fully left my body. My thoughts came slow and soft, like walking through water.

But one thing was clear.

Him.

Roman Blackwood.

Too close. Too warm. Too much.

He crouched in front of me, eyes scanning my face like he was checking for injuries.

"Talk to me," he said quietly. "Are you dizzy?"

"Yes."

"Pain?"

"No."

"Nausea?"

"A little."

His hands curled into fists.

"I should kill them," he muttered.

The words were calm.

That scared me more than shouting would have.

"You already hurt them," I said.

"Hurt isn't enough."

He looked up at me.

His eyes were not soft anymore.

They were dark. Violent. Possessive.

"They touched you."

My breath caught.

The way he said it.

Not angry.

Not jealous.

Something deeper.

Like it was personal.

Like they had stolen something that belonged to him.

"You barely know me," I whispered.

He went still.

Then he asked quietly, "Do you really believe that?"

My heart skipped.

"What does that mean?"

He didn't answer.

He just kept staring.

Studying me.

Like he was trying to remember something.

Silence stretched between us.

Heavy.

Hot.

Dangerous.

He reached for the zipper at the back of my dress.

"May I?" he asked.

The simple question made my stomach twist.

No man had ever asked me anything like that before.

They always assumed.

Always took.

Roman asked.

I nodded slowly.

His fingers brushed my back as he helped me out of the ruined dress.

Just a touch.

Just skin.

But it felt like lightning.

My breath hitched.

He froze.

"You're shaking," he said.

"Because you're staring."

"I'm trying not to."

"Then why are you?"

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Because I feel like if I look away, you'll disappear."

My chest tightened.

No one had ever said something like that to me.

No one had ever looked at me like that.

No pity.

Not desire.

Not ownership.

Something else.

Something raw.

Something that scared me more than the drug.

"Why did you save me?" I asked.

His brows pulled together like the answer was obvious.

"I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

"You could've called security."

"I didn't want security touching you either."

I swallowed.

"That doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't have to."

He stood up suddenly and stepped away.

Too far away.

The cold rushed in instantly.

I hated it.

I hated how my body reacted to his absence.

He ran a hand through his hair.

He looked frustrated.

Angry.

At himself.

"This is wrong," he muttered.

"What is?"

"This pull."

My heart slammed harder.

"What pull?"

He laughed once.

Bitter.

"You really don't feel it?"

I opened my mouth.

Then I closed it.

Because lying suddenly felt pointless.

"... I do."

The words slipped out.

Soft.

Honest.

"I don't understand it," I continued. "But when you're close, my chest feels tight. When you walk away, it hurts. That's crazy. I just met you."

"You didn't just meet me," he said quietly.

I blinked. "What?"

He looked at me like he almost said something else.

Then he shook his head.

"Nothing."

I hated that answer.

"Don't do that," I said.

"Do what?"

"Hide things from me."

"You wouldn't like the truth."

"Try me."

His eyes darkened.

"If I touch you, I won't stop."

The air left my lungs.

Not a threat.

Not arrogance.

A warning.

Like he was protecting me from himself.

My voice came out softer than I expected.

"Then don't stop."

Silence.

The kind that makes your ears ring.

He stared at me like I had just handed him a loaded gun.

"You don't know what you're saying," he murmured.

"I know exactly what I'm saying."

"Elena"

"I was almost taken tonight. Drugged. Treated like trash." My throat burned. "And you're the only person who looked at me like I mattered."

My hands trembled.

"But you're walking away like I'm dangerous to you."

His voice cracked.

"You are."

That broke something inside me.

I stood up, even though my legs were weak.

"If I'm so dangerous, why did you carry me like I was something precious?"

He didn't answer.

"Why did you fight for me?"

Silence.

"Why are you looking at me like that right now?"

He stepped closer.

One step.

Slow.

Controlled.

Like approaching fire.

"Because," he said quietly, "my wolf hasn't stopped screaming since I touched you."

My heart pounded so loud I could hear it.

"I don't understand," I whispered.

"You're not supposed to."

His hand came up and brushed my cheek.

So gentle.

So careful.

Like I might break.

My eyes closed without permission.

The warmth spread through me.

Comfort.

Safety.

Home.

Home?

Why did he feel like home?

"I've never reacted to anyone like this," he admitted.

"Me neither."

"If I cross this line, everything changes."

"Maybe everything has already changed."

Our foreheads almost touched.

His breath mixed with mine.

My chest rose and fell too fast.

He whispered, barely audible.

"Say stop and I'll walk away."

I didn't.

I couldn't.

Because the truth was simple.

If he walked away now, it would hurt more than anything tonight.

More than the drug.

More than the fear.

More than the humiliation.

So I shook my head.

And whispered, "Stay."

He kissed me.

Soft.

Careful.

Like asking permission.

Not talking.

Never talking.

My fingers gripped his shirt again.

He made a low sound in his throat like he had been starving.

But even then, he held back.

Always holding back.

Always choosing control.

That's what made it worse.

Because it meant he respected me.

And respect was more dangerous than desire.

He rested his forehead against mine.

His voice broke.

"This isn't just attraction."

"I know."

"This isn't just chemistry."

"I know."

He swallowed hard.

Then the word slipped out.

Quiet.

Reverent.

Terrified.

"... Mate."

My eyes opened.

"What?"

His jaw tightened.

Like he regretted saying it.

But it was too late.

The word hung between us.

Heavy.

Important.

Final.

"Mate?" I repeated.

He nodded once.

"In our world... It means one person. Only one. For life."

My pulse raced.

"That's not possible. We just met."

"I know."

"You don't even know me."

"I know."

"Then how"

"I don't choose this," he said. "It chooses me."

My heart felt like it might burst.

For the first time in my life, I wasn't a second choice.

No backup.

Not charity.

Chosen.

Only.

Hi.

The thought scared me.

But it also healed something old and broken inside me.

"What happens now?" I asked.

He looked at me like the answer scared him too.

"Now... nothing stays simple."

Later, sleep dragged me under.

Warm.

Safe.

His arms around me.

Like he was guarding me even in dreams.

When I woke up, sunlight touched my face.

I wasn't alone.

I was in his bed.

Wrapped in his shirt.

His scent is everywhere.

And the door across the room slowly opened.

A woman's sharp voice cut through the air.

"So this is the girl you chose over your pack, Roman?"

My blood ran cold.

Chosen?

Over his pack?

What did that mean?

And why did she sound like she wanted me gone?

My heart stopped.

"Dad, breakfast!"

Sienna's voice.

Bright. Cheerful. Normal.

Right outside the door.

The word hit me harder than anything.

Dad.

Dad?

My body went cold.

I sat up too fast, the blanket sliding off me. Roman's shirt hung loose on my skin. His scent clung to me. Warm. Dangerous. Familiar.

Dad.

My brain refused to connect it.

Then it did.

And everything crashed at once.

The door handle moved.

I panicked.

Roman stepped in front of me instantly.

Blocking me.

Shielding me.

Like he already knew what I was thinking.

"Don't open it," he said slowly.

"I wasn't going to," I whispered.

My voice shook.

Not from fear.

From shock.

Sienna knocked lightly.

"Dad? Are you awake?"

Dad.

Again.

Each time felt like a slap.

Roman didn't answer her.

He kept his eyes on me.

Watch me carefully.

Too carefully.

Like I might run.

Like I might break.

"Say something," I whispered.

His jaw tightened. "In a minute."

"She called you Dad."

"I know."

"She called you Dad."

"I heard her, Elena."

My chest felt tight.

My throat burned.

"Sienna is my best friend," I said slowly. "My only friend."

He said nothing.

The silence told me everything.

"You're her father?" I asked.

He nodded once.

That was it.

Just one small nod.

Like it wasn't a bomb.

Like it wasn't ruining my entire world.

I laughed.

A small, broken sound.

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

"This is a mistake."

"It isn't."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No. No. No. This can't be real. I work for her family. I slept over at her house. I tell her everything. Everything. And you"

My voice cracked.

"And you're her father?"

He stepped closer.

"Lower your voice."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"She'll hear you."

"I don't care!"

I did care.

But I was too hurt to admit it.

Memories hit me all at once.

Sienna laughing with me in the kitchen.

Sienna talking about her strict father.

Sienna says, He never smiles. He's scary. But he loves me.

My stomach twisted.

Roman.

She meant Roman.

All this time.

"You knew," I said quietly.

He didn't answer.

"You knew who I was the whole time."

"I suspected."

"Don't lie."

His eyes flickered.

That was enough.

"You knew," I repeated.

"Yes."

The word was heavy.

Honest.

And it hurt more than a lie.

"Since when?" I asked.

"The moment I smelled you at the gala."

"Smelled me?"

"My wolf recognized you."

I swallowed.

"And then?"

"And then I checked the staff list."

My chest tightened.

"So you investigated me."

"Yes."

"Like I'm some threat?"

"No," he said sharply. "Like you're something precious."

I stared at him.

Anger. Confusion. Heat.

Too many emotions at once.

"You should have told me," I said.

"I couldn't."

"Why?"

"Because the second you knew who I was, you would've run."

He wasn't wrong.

And that made me angrier.

"So what?" I asked. "You thought sleeping with me first would make it easier?"

His face darkened.

"Don't say it like that."

"Like what? Like the truth?"

"Last night wasn't manipulation."

"It feels like it."

He flinched.

Actually flinched.

Like I had stabbed him.

His voice dropped.

"Last night was the first time in years I wasn't alone."

That stopped me.

"You think this is easy for me?" he continued. "You think I planned to want you? You think I planned for my daughter's best friend to be my mate?"

Mate.

That word again.

It twisted my heart.

"I hate it," he said quietly. "I hate how complicated this is. I hate how dangerous it is. But I don't hate you."

Silence.

Soft. Painful.

"I can't," he added. "I tried."

My anger cracked a little.

Just a little.

Because his voice wasn't cold.

It was tiring.

Lonely.

Real.

"I feel stupid," I admitted.

"For what?"

"For trusting you so fast."

"That wasn't stupidity," he said. "That was instinct."

"Or weakness."

"No." His voice hardened. "Don't call yourself weak."

"You don't know me."

"I know enough."

He stepped closer.

Too close.

My heart reacted instantly.

Traitor.

"I know you stayed calm when those men grabbed you," he said. "I know you fought even when you were drugged. I know you still worried about your friend while you were scared."

His eyes softened.

"You're stronger than half my pack."

My throat tightened.

No one had ever said something like that to me before.

But the problem was still there.

Huge.

Unavoidable.

"Sienna," I whispered. "She trusts me."

"So do I."

"This will hurt her."

"I know."

"Then what are we doing?"

He didn't answer.

Because neither of us knew.

A knock again.

Louder this time.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

I froze.

Roman closed his eyes briefly.

Then he spoke through the door.

"I'll be down soon."

"Okay! Don't skip breakfast again!"

Her footsteps faded.

The silence afterward felt heavier.

I wrapped my arms around myself.

"I should go," I said.

"No."

The word came fast.

Sharp.

Possessive.

I blinked. "What?"

"You're not leaving."

"I can't stay here."

"You can't leave either."

"That's not your choice."

"It is."

My anger came back. "You don't own me."

"I'm trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"From my enemies."

My stomach dropped.

"What enemies?"

He stared at me.

Measuring.

Then he said quietly, "Last night wasn't random."

"What do you mean?"

"The men who drugged you? They weren't drunk idiots."

My heart pounded.

"They were sent."

"Sent by who?"

"Rival packs."

My mouth went dry.

"Why me?"

His eyes darkened.

"Because you're connected to me."

"But they didn't know that," I said.

"They suspected."

"How?"

"Because someone told them."

The words hung heavy.

Betrayal.

Inside job.

My chest tightened.

"Someone in your pack?" I whispered.

He nodded.

"Yes."

Twist.

Another one.

Nothing felt safe anymore.

Not the house.

Not the people.

Not even my friend's family.

"So if I walk out that door..." I said slowly.

"They'll take you," he finished.

"Use you against me."

My hands trembled.

"I didn't ask for this."

"I know."

"I just wanted a job. A normal life."

"I know."

"But now I'm in some war because of you."

His voice broke.

"I'm sorry."

He rarely apologized.

I could tell.

The word sounded foreign in his mouth.

Heavy.

Real.

And that made it worse.

Because I believed him.

"I need time," I whispered.

"You don't have time."

"Don't say that."

"They're moving fast."

"So what? I just stay locked in your room forever?"

"If that's what keeps you safe, yes."

I stared at him.

"You really would cage me."

"I'd burn the world first."

My heart betrayed me again.

Because part of me liked that.

Liked how fiercely he cared.

Even if it scared me.

"I don't know what we are," I said softly.

His answer came without hesitation.

"Mine."

My breath caught.

Then he added quietly, "If you'll have me."

Before I could reply

Knock.

Soft.

Then the door handle turned.

My blood ran cold.

Sienna's voice floated in, confused and curious.

"Dad? Why is the door locked?"

My heart slammed.

Roman and I locked eyes.

Too close.

Too guilty.

Too late.

The handle moved again.

And she said

"... Elena? Are you in there?"