CHOSEN

“Lucas,” I called. He didn’t stop. I could tell he was barely hanging on, fighting to stay conscious, but whatever was driving him was stronger than reason. His hands traced the curve of my body—my waist, my hips—slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing me. Then he pulled me against him, gentle but unyielding, his lips brushing my jaw, my ear. My breath hitched. I didn’t want this. Not really. Not like this. Dave’s face flashed through my mind, sharp and painful, but it felt distant—like I was watching everything from behind glass. My body moved on instinct, disconnected from my will, as if something else had taken the wheel and left me trapped in the passenger seat. The worst part? It felt too good. “Lucas,” I whispered again, and I hated how it sounded—soft, broken, nothing like a warning. He pulled back just enough for me to see his eyes. Black. Completely black. Fear shot through me, sharp and cold, even as heat coiled low in my stomach. The monster had surfaced. And somehow, terrifying as it was, my body answered it. In the next second, his mouth was at my neck. He stopped at the sensitive curve where my shoulder met my throat and dragged his tongue over my skin, slow and deliberate. Panic slammed into me. I knew what this was. He was about to mark me. No! I screamed it in my head, even as my lips betrayed me with a shaky sound I couldn’t swallow back. Once marked, there would be no escape. Distance would become a death sentence. I’d be bound to him—body, soul, life. His hand slipped beneath my blouse, fingers teasing, claiming, and that was it. Whatever control I thought I had shattered. In the mirror behind him, I caught my reflection. My eyes were just as dark as his. That’s when I understood—the wolf in me had woken up. And she didn’t care about guilt or vows or consequences. She only wanted him. I could do nothing but watch as our clothes disappeared, torn and forgotten, as instinct drowned thought. When our mouths met again, it wasn’t tenderness—it was hunger. The rest blurred into sensation and loss of time, the world shrinking until there was nothing but heat, movement, and the bond snapping tight between us like a live wire. I woke to sunlight spilling across my face. My body ached everywhere, the deep, heavy soreness of exhaustion layered with something far more intimate. I groaned softly, my head swimming as I tried to move. The room smelled like s*x. Tears burned behind my eyes. I hated myself. Beside me, Lucas sat up abruptly, dragging a hand down his face before turning to stare at me like he’d been punched. Shock flickered across his features, then anger—at himself—before guilt took over completely. He grabbed the sheet and pulled it over me, like that could undo what we’d done. “Ester… that wasn’t me,” he whispered. “I know,” I said, my voice barely there. “I’m so sorry,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I swear—I’m so sorry.” Seeing the feared Alpha broken like that should’ve surprised me. It didn’t. I was too busy trying not to fall apart. “Are you going to reject me?” he asked quietly. The question hit harder than I expected. Rejecting him would hurt him—but it would tear me apart too. The bond made sure of that. Before I could answer, the door shook violently. “Lucas! Open the damn door!” Lucien shouted. Lucas jumped up, pulled on a pair of shorts, and went to answer it. I didn’t even try to cover myself. Shame felt pointless next to regret. Lucien took one look at me and went pale. “Goddess,” he muttered. “Luke, what the hell? I warned you.” Lucas didn’t argue. He didn’t even look at him—just looked at me. “Take Ester home once she’s better,” Lucas said, then walked straight toward the balcony. I watched him leap over the railing and shift mid-air, his wolf hitting the ground below and vanishing into the trees. Lucien turned back to me, concern written all over his face—no judgment, no anger. “Get some rest, Es,” he said quietly. “I’ll get you medicine and clothes.” Exhaustion claimed me before I could respond. When I woke again, the clock read four in the afternoon. The ache had dulled, but it hadn’t disappeared. I sat up and realized I was still naked. The bathroom door opened, and Lucas stepped out, damp hair, towel low on his hips, his scent filling the room. Sexy. Damn it. His silver eyes met mine, and guilt flooded his expression. He changed without bothering to hide, and I hated myself for watching—because I did. Every inch of him was unfairly perfect. He returned with a tray, set it down, and handed me a plate stacked with sandwiches. “Eat,” he said gently. “You need your strength.” I downed the water he passed me and devoured the sandwich like I hadn’t eaten in days. “I need clothes,” I mumbled around a bite. He nodded, gesturing to a stack of shopping bags in the corner. My old clothes were shredded beyond saving anyway. “Go clean up,” he said quietly. “Our scent together is driving my wolf crazy. I don’t trust myself.” I stood and walked to the bathroom without bothering to cover myself, aware of his gaze on my back—and the low growl he couldn’t quite suppress. I didn’t slow down. This was insane. Just days ago, I was living a quiet, human life with my husband and son. Now I was standing in the bedroom of a werewolf Alpha, bonded to him in a way that felt older than time. Like I’d stepped into another world. And I wasn’t sure there was a way back.