NinaThe door swings open, and I don’t even bother looking up. I’m too pissed. But the familiar scent of leather and woodsmoke tells me it’s my father. Great.“I’m not in the mood, Dad,” I mutter, still staring at my phone like it’ll solve my problems for me.He lets out a long sigh as he steps into the room. “I heard about your argument with Dominic.”My fingers clench around the phone, my temper flaring up all over again. “Seriously? Does everyone need to be in my business?”“He’s worried about you, Nina. We all are.”“Worried?” I snap, finally lifting my head. “I’m the fucking Alpha, Dad. When is everyone going to start respecting that?”His expression softens, but I can see the weight behind his eyes. “Nina, we all respect you.”“Could’ve fooled me,” I mutter, crossing my arms and leaning back against the couch. “Dom treats me like I’m still that scared kid, and you’re not any better. No one actually listens to me.”Dad walks over and sits down across from me, hands resting on his
NinaI wake up, horny as hell.Again.This isn’t normal. This can’t be normal. I flip over in bed, kicking the sheets off in frustration, but it only makes it worse. The cool air hits my skin, and my nipples harden instantly. My mind flashes to Elijah—his hands, his mouth, the way he kissed me like he owned me all those years ago.No. No, no, no. I groan, pressing my thighs together, trying to fight off the rising heat between them. This isn’t fair. Jaxon’s still in my heart, and I’m here thinking about a kiss from a decade ago like it was yesterday.I give up the fight. My hand slips down, finding that spot that’s been throbbing all morning. I close my eyes, and despite myself, my brain conjures up images of Jaxon—his strong hands, the roughness of his voice when he says my name, the way his eyes darken when he looks at me now. It’s wrong, but I’m already too far gone. My fingers move faster, my breath catching as I tip over the edge.For a moment, the tension eases, but the guilt se
NinaI sit at the table, staring at the untouched glass of wine in front of me. The restaurant’s dim lighting should feel romantic. It doesn’t. Not when I’ve been sitting here alone for an hour.I glance at my phone, unlocking the screen just to make sure. Nothing. No texts, no missed calls. No Jaxon.Typical.It’s our anniversary, for fuck’s sake. Three years. Three years of marriage to a man who barely looks at me. I check my phone again, even though I know there’s nothing there. Maybe some part of me is still holding out hope, which is fucking pathetic.I sip the wine, trying to swallow the bitterness rising in my throat. I don’t even like wine, but here I am, drinking it like I’m in some kind of perfect marriage, pretending I have a perfect husband. Meanwhile, Jaxon’s probably stuck in some meeting, or worse—with her.My thumb hovers over Instagram. I shouldn’t check it. I know I shouldn’t. But I do anyway. It’s a habit I’ve fallen into, one that makes me feel worse every time, bu
NinaI step into the penthouse, the familiar cold air brushing against my skin. Everything looks exactly the same—the spotless marble floors, the glass walls that give a perfect view of the city skyline, and the stupidly expensive art Jaxon insisted on collecting. It’s all perfectly in place, like nothing’s changed.But everything has.Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since I lost the baby. Two weeks since Jaxon showed up at the hospital, cold as ice, and left me there sobbing. And two weeks since I decided that I’m done. I’m done pretending, done waiting for him to give a damn, done being the good little wife he never actually wanted.I walk straight to his office, not even bothering to take off my coat. My heels echo loudly on the floor, the only sound in this too-big, too-empty space. I shove the door open and place the divorce papers on his desk with more force than necessary. The loud thud they make is oddly satisfying.Jaxon’s sitting there, looking up from his laptop, his express
NinaI’m standing in the middle of the bedroom, stuffing clothes into a suitcase like my life depends on it. My hands are moving fast, almost too fast, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. If I stop, I’ll have to think. And thinking means I’ll have to look at the bed in the corner. The bed Jaxon has never once slept in with me.Three years of marriage, and not once did he even bother to stay in the same bed. What kind of fucking marriage is that? A fake one. That’s what.I grab another handful of clothes and toss them into the suitcase, my movements jerky and frantic. I can hear Callie in the hallway, pacing. She wants to come in, I know she does, but she’s giving me space. I appreciate it, but it’s not enough. Nothing is.My phone buzzes on the dresser, and I glance at it, half-expecting another bullshit text from Jaxon, telling me he’s “stuck at a meeting” or some crap like that. But it’s not him. It’s Dominic.Shit.I stare at the screen for a second, my heart racing. I hadn’t p
JaxonI wake up with my dick hard as steel, the image of Nina burned into my brain. Fuck. My skin’s slick with sweat, my sheets a twisted mess around my legs, and my breathing’s all over the place.The dream was so fucking vivid. I can still see her underneath me, her nails dragging down my back, her lips parted, that little gasp she always made when I was inside her.“Shit,” I mutter, dragging a hand over my face. I stare at the ceiling, my body still buzzing, the need to fuck her not fading one damn bit.But she’s gone.I throw off the covers, pissed at myself. Pissed at her. Pissed at everything. My cock’s still rock-hard, aching, but there’s no way I’m calling her. Not after the way she walked out. No, fuck that.I head for the shower, my chest tight with frustration. The water’s scalding, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to cool me down. My mind’s still on her—how she felt, how she smelled, how she’d wrap her legs around me and pull me deeper until I couldn’t think straight.“Fucki
JaxonI step into my office, slamming the door behind me, the walls feeling like they’re closing in on me. Divorce proceedings. What a joke. The lawyers are already handling the paperwork, talking about settlements and shit. I should care about that stuff. I should be paying attention.But I’m not.All I can think about is Nina. How she looked when she left. How she told me it was over and didn’t look back. How I didn’t even try to stop her.I sit down at my desk, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. I stare at the divorce papers, sitting there like some fucking death sentence.She’s really gone.I thought she’d come back. I thought... fuck, I don’t even know what I thought. That we’d figure it out. That our bond would be enough. That I’d say the right thing and everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be.But it’s not.She’s filing for divorce, and I’m too stunned to process any of it. I thought I was smarter than this. I
NinaI stand near the bar, gripping my champagne flute so tightly I’m afraid it might shatter. My heart’s racing, my skin feels too tight, and all I can think about is getting the hell out of here. I can still feel Jaxon’s presence, even though I walked away from him minutes ago. His voice, the way he looked at me, like he still has some claim over me—fuck. It’s too much.The charity event swirls around me in a blur of laughter and clinking glasses. My father hosts this thing every year to support werewolf packs across the country—helping fund education, infrastructure, all the things smaller packs can’t afford. It’s a noble cause, and I should be focused on that, but all I can think about is how fucking suffocated I felt the moment I locked eyes with Jaxon.I take a deep breath, leaning against the bar, trying to ground myself. The ballroom is packed with elites—wolves in designer suits, powerful Alphas, and humans too, mingling like they belong. This event is a big deal, but I can b