2. Raphael #2
Max nodded slowly. “I thought so.” He glanced at Viktor, then at Dmitri. Both kept their faces carefully neutral, but I saw the tension in Viktor’s shoulders. The way a muscle jumped in Dmitri’s cheek. They knew what was coming. “But your weakness still requires correction. You understand.”
I understood.
The enforcers at the door moved forward.
They held me down on the floor of that office, my cheek pressed against cold concrete, while they shifted.
The sound of bones reshaping, of muscle stretching, of claws extending from fingers that had been human moments before.
The heavy panting of wolves barely contained in human skins.
The first strike carved a line of fire across my shoulder blade. I bit through my lip to keep from screaming. The second opened my back from spine to hip, three parallel grooves that went deep enough to scrape bone.
I didn’t scream. I thought of her. Of the night we had spent together, the only night, when she had given herself to me completely and I had nearly lost control.
The scent of her arousal, rich and intoxicating.
The sounds she had made when I finally pushed inside her, tight and hot and perfect around me.
The way she had arched into me, trusting me completely, having no idea how close the wolf was to the surface.
I had nearly claimed her then. Nearly let my teeth find that tender place where her neck met her shoulder and sunk into her flesh, binding her to me with a bond that could never be broken. My fangs had lengthened. I had pressed my mouth against her pulse and tasted the salt of her skin.
I had stopped myself. Pulled back at the last moment, fighting the beast into submission, telling myself it was for her own good.
Another claw strike, this one across my ribs. Blood pooled beneath me, warm and spreading.
This is the price, I thought. This is what it costs to keep her alive. And I would pay it a thousand times over.
When it was finished, Viktor helped me to my feet. My legs nearly buckled. The wounds would heal faster than a human’s, but not fast enough to spare me weeks of pain. His face was carefully blank, but his hands were gentle as he steadied me.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked, too quiet for the others to hear.
“Yes.”
“She’ll hate you.”
“I know.”
Viktor nodded once, respect flickering in his eyes. Or maybe it was pity. Hard to tell with him. He had been my brother in the pack for fifteen years. Had seen me kill. Had seen me bleed. Had never seen me love.
“Then I hope she’s worth it.”
She was. God help me, she was.
The memory faded as the SUV climbed higher into the mountains.
Parsons drove in silence, his eyes on the road, his presence a steady calm beside me.
He knew where we were going. Knew what I was about to do.
He had been the one to make the call to Lena yesterday, announcing my arrival like a death sentence.
The landscape outside the window shifted from bare trees to evergreens, the last patches of snow clinging to shadowed mountain valleys.
Paradise Peaks in early spring. The Hughes Palace Hotel would be preparing for the summer season.
Planning events and marketing campaigns and all the things that kept a luxury resort alive.
She would be there. Working. Proving herself. Fighting to save the hotel her father had nearly destroyed.
I had been watching from a distance. Reports from Petrov’s security team, updates on the hotel’s recovery, carefully collected information about her daily routines.
Not because I was stalking her. Because I needed to know she was safe.
Needed to know the stalker who had been tormenting her had not struck again in my absence.
The thought of that faceless threat made my wolf snarl, the sound rumbling low in my chest. Someone had been terrorizing her for months.
Dead animals left where she would find them.
Damaged property. Threats that escalated with each incident.
And I still didn’t know who. The scent trail had gone cold every time.
When we married, she would be under my protection in every way that mattered. The pack would watch over her. My enemies would know that harming her meant war.
And she’ll hate you for it.
Yes. She would.
I leaned my head back against the leather seat and closed my eyes, letting the memory of her wash over me. Not the morning I had broken her. Earlier. Better.
The night she had given me her virginity.
The way she had trembled when I undressed her, not with fear but with anticipation.
Her scent thickening with arousal, her pulse racing in the hollow of her throat as I laid her bare.
The sounds she had made when I finally pushed inside her, that soft cry of pain turning to pleasure, her body gripping me so tight I nearly lost my mind.
The way she had looked up at me afterward, vulnerable and sated. Blue eyes hazy with satisfaction, blonde hair spread across my pillow. Her scent mingled with mine on my sheets, marking my territory in a way that made my wolf howl with possessive joy.
I had nearly let myself claim her then. Nearly let my teeth sink into that tender place where her neck met her shoulder. The pull had been overwhelming, the desperate need to bind her to me forever.
I had stopped myself. Pulled back at the last moment, forcing him down with every ounce of will I possessed.
Because I had seen what happened when wolves lost control.
Had watched my father’s claws tear through my mother’s throat.
And Lena had been so soft beneath me. So fragile.
So human. One slip, one moment of weakness, and I could destroy her the same way.
And then the morning after, with Viktor’s warning still echoing in my ears and the Pakhan’s attention already turning toward her, I had looked at her sleeping face and made the cruelest decision of my life.
I had sent her away. Cold. Dismissive. I had removed the collar she had learned to accept and told her the contract was fulfilled. Watched her face crumble from confusion to hurt to rage.
Told myself I was protecting her.
Broke her to save her, and destroyed myself in the process.
My wolf whined at the memory, the sound reverberating through my chest. Two months of his grief had been nearly unbearable.
The unclaimed mate bond pulled at me constantly, a phantom limb that ached where she should have been.
Every night he had paced and howled, demanding I go to her, claim her, make it right.
Every night I had pushed him down and reminded us both that we did not deserve her.
The Pakhan’s claws had been mercy compared to this. Physical wounds healed. The hollow ache of an unfinished bond only grew worse.
The Pakhan’s ultimatum had changed nothing and everything. Now I had permission. Had a reason that went beyond my own selfish need. But the truth remained the same.
I was returning to force a woman who hated me into a marriage she didn’t want, using legal traps and contractual obligations to bind her to my side.
It didn’t matter that I was doing it to save her life.
It didn’t matter that the alternative was killing her.
What mattered was that once again, I was taking her choice away.
She would never forgive me for this.
And I would spend the rest of my life trying to earn forgiveness I didn’t deserve.
“Sir.” Parsons’ voice pulled me from my thoughts. “The hotel.”
I opened my eyes.
The Hughes Palace Hotel rose against the mountain backdrop, its stone facade bright in the mid-morning sun. I had seen it dozens of times before. Had walked its halls, dined in its restaurant, watched Lena navigate its politics with a competence that made my wolf purr with pride.
But today it looked different. Like a fortress I was about to siege. Like the last barrier between me and the woman I would destroy myself to protect.
I remembered the first time I saw her. A party in this very hotel, two years ago.
She had been wearing a green dress that set off her eyes, her blonde hair swept up to expose the curve of her neck.
My wolf had recognized her before I did.
Had surged forward with a desperation I had never felt before, howling the word that would define every moment since.
Mate.
She had had no idea I was watching, laughing at her father’s joke while the monster across the room calculated how to possess her. Her scent had hit me even from that distance.
I had kept my distance. She was too young. So I had waited. Years of patience, of watching from afar, until she turned twenty and I finally allowed myself to meet her in her father’s office.
I had hated myself for the patience. Hated myself more for what came after.
In a few minutes, I would walk into that lobby and demand she marry me. I would use the contract she had signed to save her father and the will that controlled her inheritance and every piece of leverage I could find. I would give her no choice.
And she would look at me with those blue eyes burning with contempt, and I would accept it. Let it scour me clean. Let her hatred be the penance I deserved.
Because the alternative was her death. And my wolf, my heart, my very soul would burn the world to ashes before we let that happen.
Parsons pulled up to the front entrance. A valet approached, then hesitated when he saw my face through the window. Smart man. Even humans could sense a predator.
I adjusted my cuffs one last time. Checked my reflection in the dark glass. The mask was in place. Cold. Controlled. The man the world expected to see.
Underneath, my wolf paced and snarled, desperate to find her. To see her. To make sure she was real and whole and alive after two months of nothing but reports and surveillance photos.
Soon, I told him. Soon.
I stepped out of the car.
The mountain air hit me first, crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and thawing spring earth. And underneath it, faint but unmistakable, the trace of apples and cream that meant she was here. Close. My wolf surged forward so hard I had to grip the car door to steady myself.
Ours. Go to her now.
“Sir?” Parsons had come around to stand beside me. “Are you all right?”
I released the door. Straightened my jacket. Let the cold settle back into my bones where it belonged.
“Fine.” The word came out rough. I cleared my throat. “Wait here. This won’t take long.”
It was a lie. This would take everything I had.
I walked toward the entrance, each step carrying me closer to the woman who hated me, the woman I was about to trap, the woman I would destroy myself to protect.
She could hate me for the rest of her life, as long as she was alive to do it.