Her Dark Wolves

Chapter 1 The Wrong Night to Break Lily’s POV She had worn his favourite dress. That was the part that stung the most , the small stupid detail that kept replaying in her head as she stood frozen in the doorway of Marcus's apartment, her key still warm in her hand, her heart dropping clean through the floor. The red dress. The one he'd told her made her look like trouble. She'd worn it to surprise him. To be spontaneous, the way he always said she wasn't. To finally, finally give him a reason to stop pressuring her about the one thing she wasn't ready to give. Instead, she found him giving someone else his full attention , right there on the couch she'd helped him pick out. The girl didn't even have the decency to look ashamed when she noticed Lily standing there. She just laughed. A soft, mean little laugh, and buried her face back into Marcus's neck. FLASHBACK Three hours earlier.Lily had been standing in front of her bathroom mirror, butterflies storming her stomach, lipstick in hand. Jerry had been perched on the edge of the bathtub behind her, watching with raised eyebrows. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for, Lily." "I know,"she'd said. "But he's been so patient. Six months, Jerry. Maybe I'm the one being ridiculous." Jerry had gone quiet. That quiet that meant he had an opinion he was keeping to himself for once in his life. She should have listened to that silence. Should have read it like the warning it was. Instead, she'd finished her lipstick, smoothed down the red dress, and walked out the door feeling brave. Brave. What a joke. Marcus had the nerve to stand up slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Like she was the inconvenience. He ran a hand through his hair and had the confidence of a man doing her a favour "Don't."Her voice came out steadier than she felt. She was proud of that. cDon't you dare finish that sentence. "Look, if you weren't so damn uptight about everything maybe this wouldn't have happened,"he said, and there it was the mask, finally off. His voice had an edge she realised, with a sick lurch, she'd always sensed but never acknowledged."What did you expect? You act like your virginity is some kind of prize, Lily. Grow up The room went very still. Lily looked at him, really looked at him and felt something inside her go quiet. Not broken. Not crumbling. Just... done. Completely, utterly, and permanently done. You know what, Marcus?" She picked up her bag from where she'd dropped it by the door. Her hands weren't shaking. She was almost surprised. "I spent six months thinking I was lucky to have you. Turns out the luckiest thing I'll ever do is walk out of this door." She turned to the girl on the couch still watching with that lazy, entertained expression. "And you're welcome to him, sweetheart. Honestly? I feel sorry for you." She left without slamming the door. That was the part she was most proud of. She left like she meant it quiet, final, and without looking back. She made it exactly half a block before the shaking started. Jerry had been ready with open arms and a burning string of insults about Marcus that would have made a sailor blush. But Lily didn't want comfort. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted noise and darkness and something cold and burning in a glass. She wanted to feel anything other than foolish. Onyx was the kind of club that existed to make people forget things. Black walls, low red lighting, music that moved through the floor and up through your bones. Lily had been here exactly twice and both times she'd nursed a single drink all night. Tonight was different. Tonight she pulled up a barstool, set her bag down like she owned the place, and ordered something she couldn't pronounce. The first drink burned. The second one didn't. By the time she was eyeing the third, she was starting to feel the blurry, warm distance she'd been chasing. Marcus was fading. The red dress didn't hurt so much. She almost felt like herself again. And then she felt it. ”Eyes” Not the casual sweep of a crowded room. Not the glance of someone passing. This was deliberate. Weighted. The kind of attention that pressed against your skin from across a room and didn't let go. She turned her head slowly half expecting nothing and found them immediately. Two men. Standing at the far end of the bar like they'd been carved out of the darkness itself and polished until they gleamed. Identical in every devastating detail sharp jaw, broad shoulders, amber eyes that caught the low light and held it. They were dressed like money that didn't need to announce itself. Dark suits. No tie. The kind of effortless that takes a great deal of power to pull off. They were both looking directly at her. Not around her. Not past her. At her. With an intensity so focused it felt almost physical like two hands pressing gently against her chest, holding her in place. Lily turned back to the bar. Her heart was doing something unreasonable. She reached for her third drink. A hand closed around her wrist. Warm. Firm. Certain. "I don't think you need that” She turned. One of them had moved impossibly fast, impossibly quiet for a man that size and was now standing beside her. Up close he was even more overwhelming. She could smell him something dark and clean, like cedar and night air and it did nothing to help her composure. "Excuse me?" she said, lifting her chin. "I don't remember asking." The corner of his mouth curved. Just barely. Like her attitude amused him in a way he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of showing fully. He released her wrist slowly and the second brother materialised on her other side, smooth and unhurried as smoke. "You've had enough to make a bad decision," the second one said, his voice lower, quieter, somehow more dangerous for it. "We're doing you a favour." "I don't need favours from strangers," Lily said, looking between them both which was deeply disorienting, like looking at the same fire twice. "Who are you?” Neither of them answered that. They simply exchanged a glance over her head . one of those wordless conversations that twins seemed to conduct in a language no one else was allowed to learn and the first one set the drink aside with a quiet, final click. "Go home," he said. Not unkindly. But in the tone of someone who was not accustomed to being argued with. "Sleep it off." Lily grabbed her bag, slid off the barstool with what remained of her dignity, and walked away without giving either of them the satisfaction of a response. She could feel their eyes on her back the entire length of the room. The night air hit her like a glass of cold water. She stood on the pavement outside Onyx, chest tight, cheeks warm from the drinks, she told herself. Just the drinks. From somewhere behind her, close enough to carry clearly over the thrum of the street, she heard it. Two voices. Low. Unhurried. Perfectly in sync. "We'll meet again, Princess." Lily didn't look back. But her hand trembled ever so slightly as she hailed a cab . and for the first time all night, it had nothing to do with Marcus.