Chapter 3

Night pressed heavy on the city, the air pulsing with the beat from the werewolf nightclub’s neon-lit heart. I’d barely pulled myself together from Lucien’s touch in the conference room when fate—cruel as ever—threw me into the lion’s den. My sneakers squeaked on the wet pavement as I turned the corner, fast-walking to outrun my own thoughts. But there they were, Marcus and Rina, tangled together beneath the blue glow of the club’s sign, right where every wolf in the city could see.

Rina’s laughter rang out, sharp and showy as she draped herself across Marcus’s arm, her Beta scent cloying and sweet. Marcus’s hand slipped low over her hip, fingers splaying possessively across black velvet. His eyes found me instantly, his smirk stretching wide. The crowd around them—mostly young Betas and a few curious Alphas—shifted, sensing the static charge of impending drama.

I kept my chin high, but my body remembered every cruel word, every night he’d turned away from me, cold and unreachable. I tried to slip past, but Marcus stepped forward, his chest puffed out, letting his Beta pheromones roll off him in waves. The scent hit me—sour, thick, and desperate to impress. It was nothing like Lucien’s wild thunderstorm heat. Still, my nerves flared, old shame prickling under my skin.

“Well, well,” Marcus’s voice boomed, carrying over the thrum of music and the hush of onlookers. “Look who’s here—my pathetic ex. Couldn’t even satisfy a Beta, and now she’s got to walk the streets alone.”

Laughter rippled from the crowd, harsh and expectant. Rina’s eyes glittered as she pressed closer to Marcus, her lips grazing his jaw in a performance for the wolves and for me. “Maybe she’s hoping some stray will take pity on her. Or maybe she just likes to watch,” Rina purred, her voice pitched to wound.

My cheeks burned. I wanted to disappear, to shrink away, but something inside me snapped instead—a wounded animal’s pride, raw and clawing. I squared my shoulders, refusing to drop my gaze. If I let them reduce me to nothing, I’d never be free of their shadows.

Then, suddenly, the air shifted. It was as if the world inhaled and held its breath. From the darkness of the alley, Lucien emerged, his presence a silent storm. Every head turned. He didn’t need to announce himself—the force of his Alpha pheromones swept across the street, obliterating Marcus’s Beta scent in a single, overwhelming wave. The crowd stepped back, instinctively making space, their eyes wide with the primal recognition of power.

Without a word, Lucien strode to my side. His arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me against the solid heat of his body. I felt the hard line of his length pressing firmly against my backside, shockingly obvious even through layers of clothing. My breath caught, my body responding with a heat that curled low in my belly, completely at odds with the icy humiliation moments before.

Marcus’s face twisted, his bravado shriveling in the Alpha’s shadow. “What’s this, Selena? You trading up? Or just desperate for any attention you can get?” His voice wobbled, the Beta mask cracking as Lucien’s dominance pressed in from all sides.

Lucien’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing a slow, possessive circle against my hip. He leaned down, his breath brushing the shell of my ear. “Show them who you belong to," he murmured, his words a shiver of command and comfort. The crowd leaned in, hungry for spectacle, for someone to fall.

I met Marcus’s gaze, every memory of his cruelty fueling the steel in my spine. My voice rang out, clear and cold enough to cut glass: “Even if you were the last man in the world, I would never go back to you.”

The world seemed to stop. Gasps broke the silence, sharp and disbelieving. The crowd’s eyes flicked between us, then to Marcus, whose face flamed crimson. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Then a ripple of laughter spread—soft, then growing, until it echoed down the block. A human, rejecting a Beta. The impossibility of it stunned them into awe and amusement, the social order shaken before their eyes.

Marcus’s fists clenched at his sides. Rina shrank away, her hand slipping from his arm as if afraid of catching his disgrace. His Beta scent soured, tinged with panic and humiliation, utterly drowned beneath Lucien’s Alpha storm.

I let myself lean into Lucien, drawing strength from his arm, his scent, the promise of something more than shame. The crowd’s laughter faded into whispers and hungry curiosity, but I held Marcus’s gaze, refusing to let him look away. Tonight, he was the exposed one. Tonight, I was done being prey.

Lucien’s lips brushed my hair, his voice barely more than a growl. “You did well, little wolf.”

But the way his hand tightened on my waist—and the storm brewing behind his eyes—promised this public display was only the beginning. The night was far from over, and what waited in Lucien’s world would test everything I thought I knew about myself.