SET ME FREE

THREE

Breakfast was a disaster.

Ella’s hands shook so badly she could barely hold her fork. She just had s*x with her best friend’s father. Her best friend’s father has a red room. The thought alone made her stomach twist, her pulse spike. She felt like she could disappear into the floor, vanish before anyone noticed.

She slid into her seat beside Silvia, trying desperately to keep her body from betraying her. Every nerve in her body was screaming, her back still aching from last night, her skin tingling in places that had been touched, pressed, claimed. Her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably. She had been gagged, cuffed, exposed—completely at his mercy. And now she was here, in plain sight, her best friend laughing at the breakfast table not aware that anything ever happened.

And Sebastian… he was calm. Too calm. Sitting at the head of the table, eating as though it were any other morning, his posture perfect, his expression unreadable. He listened to Silvia chatter on about college, her laughter light and bright, and for a moment, it was unbearable. He didn’t look flustered, he didn’t react. He wasn’t the man from last night. Or at least, that’s what he wanted her to think.

Then his eyes found her.

Time froze.

Ella’s fork slipped from her fingers, clattering against the table. Her heart raced so fast it felt like it might burst from her chest. Silvia’s voice pulled her back, soft and concerned.

“Ella? Are you okay?”

Ella’s lips trembled, but she forced herself to smile. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, too quickly. “Just… a little cold after the bath.” She hoped the excuse sounded convincing. She hoped Silvia would believe her. She had to.

“I’ll… I’ll be right back,” she said, pushing herself up, legs trembling, and tried to move toward the door.

Silvia was immediately at her side, guiding her with gentle hands. “Come on, you’re shaking,” she said, frowning. With a small nod from her father, they left the dining room. Outside, Silvia bombarded her with questions, but Ella waved them off, forcing a laugh. “Once I warm up, I’ll be fine,” she said. And Silvia, ever trusting, didn’t suspect a thing.

Once inside her room, Ella collapsed onto the bed. She pulled the blankets around her like armor and tried to calm her shaking hands. She could feel her chest heaving, every heartbeat pounding against her ribs. Her mind replayed last night over and over—his hands, his eyes, the red room, the cuffs, the gag. She shivered, part guilt, part lingering thrill, part fear.

Silvia requested her a warm tea with honey from one of the maids, Ella thanked her with a voice barely above a whisper. The steam from the cup rose around her face, fragrant and calming, but it did little to soothe the chaos inside her. Her stomach twisted again as she thought of Silvia, laughing and trusting, oblivious to the mess that had just unfolded in her own home. Ella couldn’t let anything ruin that. She couldn’t lose her only friend. She just couldn’t.

The tea warmed her hands, but it couldn’t calm her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of Sebastian at the head of the table came back—the calm, controlling figure who had such an effect on her body and mind, even when nothing explicit was happening. The thought made her cheeks flush. She had to be careful. She had to breathe. She had to survive this without breaking down.

After Silvia told her to rest and left the room, Ella slumped further into the bed, her arm draped across her eyes. She whispered into the quiet:

“What the f**k did I do?”

Her thoughts tumbled relentlessly. The weight of what had happened pressed on her chest, suffocating, relentless. She had crossed a line she hadn’t even realized existed until it was too late. And yet, somewhere beneath the panic and the guilt, a part of her couldn’t forget the thrill, the danger, the intoxicating power he had wielded over her.

She took a shaky sip of tea, letting the warmth seep into her body. It helped a little, but not enough. Her body still remembered every touch, every sound, every command. She couldn’t stop replaying it. And she couldn’t look at Sebastian without feeling that same pulse of heat and fear. He had seen her at her most vulnerable, and now she couldn’t unsee him in her mind.

Ella hugged the blanket around her tighter, trying to focus on the mundane, to calm the racing of her thoughts, but it was useless. Nothing would ever feel normal again. Not after last night. Not after him. Not after this morning.

She heard the door open, and her chest constricted in panic. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Silvia. Pressing her face deep into the blanket, she tried to speak, her voice muffled, trembling.

“I told you I’m fine, Sil… once I’m warm—”

The words caught in her throat. Before she could finish, a firm hand gripped her ankle, yanking her back onto the bed. A strangled gasp tore from her throat as her body was pinned flat, and before she could react, his hands were on either side of her head, holding her in place. The weight of him, the force of his control, made her stomach drop and her pulse spike.

Then his voice cut through her like a whip. One word. Low. Angry. Dangerous.

“Explain.”

She blinked rapidly, her mind racing, emotions crashing over her like waves. Panic, fear, guilt, shame—they all collided inside her, leaving her tongue tied and her heart hammering against her ribs.

“The room… I—I was in the wrong place,” she stammered, words tumbling out in a jumbled rush. “I thought it was the right corridor… and then… the wine… my head… I wasn’t thinking… I—I… You came in… I was…”

Her voice shook uncontrollably, trailing off as tears pricked at her eyes. She couldn’t even form coherent sentences. She could feel every ounce of her vulnerability exposed under his gaze, every heartbeat pounding with terror and… something else. A shiver ran down her spine as her thoughts drifted briefly to last night—the red room, his hands, the way he had moved over her body. Her pulse quickened even as fear clenched her stomach.

And then, before she could finish, he leaned down. His lips pressed against hers, firm, demanding, and for a moment, the world stopped. Her breath caught, and a moan slipped against the gag of her muffled thoughts, though no sound came out. The scent of him—clean, sharp, intoxicating—overwhelmed her senses, mixing with the memory of herself, the way she had smelled for him last night. Her body betrayed her, her stomach tightening as her skin tingled in remembered heat, her mind a chaotic storm of shame and craving.

Her eyes went wide as he pressed closer, almost consuming her lips, almost devouring the words she hadn’t managed to say. Panic and desire collided in her chest so violently she could hardly breathe. And then he pulled back abruptly, muttering a low curse under his breath, his dark eyes flashing, and he was gone, leaving the door swinging behind him.

Ella lay there, wide-eyed, heart hammering, trembling uncontrollably. The blanket was clutched against her face, though it did little to shield her from the raw heat of her body, the lingering pulse of memory, the overwhelming scent that still seemed to cling to her skin, mixing with the ghost of his presence. She gasped, realizing she hadn’t been breathing properly, hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath.

Her mind spun in a million directions at once. Fear, guilt, shame, embarrassment… a dizzying cocktail of emotions she couldn’t sort. How could this happen? How could she be this reckless? Silvia, the one person she trusted completely, was just down the hall, oblivious. And him… the memory of his lips, his hands, the scent of him lingering in her hair and on her skin—it made her knees weak even as anger and guilt clawed at her chest.

Her fingers curled into the blankets, her body shaking from exhaustion and residual arousal, from the weight of everything that had happened. She felt dirty. Exposed. Vulnerable in ways she had never imagined. And yet… part of her still remembered the fire, the thrill, the way he had dominated her, seen her, claimed her. That memory alone made her blood run hot, made her skin tingle, made her want to bury her face in the pillow to escape and yet crave it all at once.

She exhaled shakily, pressing her palms against her face. “What… what the f**k did I do?” The words whispered into the empty room, a confession she couldn’t share, a question she had no answer for. Her body still ached, her senses still dizzy with the memory of his touch, his scent, the way her own panic had made her vulnerable to him.

And though the room was quiet now, the echoes of last night—of him—remained. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to calm her racing heart, trying to breathe, trying to find some foothold in reality. But deep down, she knew it: nothing would ever feel ordinary again. Not after this. Not after him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sebastian didn’t wait for an answer.

The moment he saw the guard, something inside him snapped.

His fist collided with the man’s jaw before anyone even registered he had moved. The guard went down hard, skidding across the floor, but Sebastian was already on him—hands fisted in the man’s shirt, dragging him back up only to slam him down again.

Another punch.

Then another.

And another.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

His knuckles cracked against bone, the sound echoing in the hall. The guard tried to shield his face, but Sebastian tore his hands away and struck again, vision tunneling, breath snarling out of him in broken bursts.

Ella.

The memory hit him like fuel on fire.

Her scent.

Her voice.

Her body trembling under him.

His fist crashed down again.

Her taste on his tongue.

Another blow.

Her moans—God, her moans—still clawing inside his skull.

He slammed the guard into the wall so hard the frames rattled and fell. The man sagged, half-conscious, but Sebastian didn’t stop. His wolf pushed, demanded, raged, and Sebastian let it.

He hit until the guard’s face turned unrecognizable, until his own knuckles ached, until his breath came ragged and burning. He didn’t care. He didn’t feel anything except the imprint of her skin still on his hands, her scent tearing through every boundary he ever had.

Ivan was shouting—his name, commands, warnings—but Sebastian didn’t hear him. Not really. The world was drowned out by one impossible truth pulsing under his ribs:

Ella.

Ella.

Ella.

Her warmth.

Her lips.

Her body arching.

Her breath breaking under his—

He drove the guard to the ground again, chest heaving.

Ivan finally managed to lock an arm around him, dragging him back before he shattered the man’s skull. Sebastian fought him, muscles bunching, eyes burning a violent gold, but Ivan held on with everything he had.

The guard collapsed, barely breathing.

Sebastian stood there, trembling with restraint he barely owned, blood on his fists, desire burning through his veins like poison.

He’d meant to spend last night working off anger in his playroom.

A faceless woman.

A quick distraction.

Nothing.

Instead, he’d gotten Ella.

Sweet, wrong, forbidden Ella.

And now every f*****g part of him wanted her again.

He was shaking—not from exertion, but from the fire raging inside him. One night. One night, and she had him undone. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire just remembering her scent, her taste, the way she had trembled under his hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be addicted. Not to his little girl’s friend. Not to someone he couldn’t touch again.

And yet…

His hands itched, his chest burned, his wolf howled in frustration. He wanted her. Wanted to press her into the wall and kiss those lips and f**k her until she forgot her own name. Wanted to feel her warm, soft body writhe under him again. Wanted her scent flooding his senses until he couldn’t think of anything else.

But he couldn’t.

She was off-limits. His daughter’s friend. Untouchable. And that made the craving worse—sharper, more dangerous. Every memory of her was a punishment, a torture he couldn’t escape. He could taste her still, feel her soft curves under his hands, remember how her gasp had made him lose control completely. And now the thought that he might never do it again… it made his blood boil hotter than any fight, hotter than any anger at a failed guard.

He wanted to scream. Wanted to break something. Anything. Anything to release the tension that had built in him like a storm he couldn’t calm. And yet, even in his fury, there was a part of him frozen, pinned, held back by something bigger—by the knowledge that she wasn’t his.

The wolf inside him paced, snapping at the leash, desperate, maddened, impossible to satisfy. He clenched his fists, jaw tight, his heart hammering in his chest. Every thought of her lips, her skin, her scent, drove him further into obsession. One night. One f*****g night, and she had him. And now he couldn’t have her again.

The realization made him furious in a way no failure, no betrayal, no guard could ever make him. He was trapped—trapped in his own desire, addicted to a woman he could never touch again, and it was driving him insane.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *