CLAUDEThe bathroom was still warm, steam curling up toward the ceiling as I wiped the fog from the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, neck and jaw covered in hickeys and bruises that ran down to my collarbone. I leaned in closer, my fingers brushing over one of the darker marks, and something tightened in my chest. They’d fade in a day or two—I knew that—but the idea of them disappearing made my throat dry. The towel around my waist was still damp as I turned away from the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom. The bedroom felt colder without Nikolai in it, the bed still rumpled, his scent faintly clinging to the sheets. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in the shower, but the stillness was nerve wracking. I’d just pulled on a fresh shirt when the door beeped, and Nikolai walked in. The smell hit me first. Food. My stomach growled, but beneath that was something sharper, something that made me freeze mid-step. Blood.And something else. Him. Antonio. The bag in Nik
CLAUDEOur time was up. It was as simple as that. The words didn’t make it any easier. No. What I wanted, what I had always wanted, was Nikolai. Even though we barely knew each other. Even though we were on opposite sides of the world, with lives that could never truly align.My fingers gripped my bag tighter, my pulse picking up as I felt Nikolai beside me. I didn’t dare look at him—not yet. “The money’s been wired to your account,” he said, his voice low, sending a shiver down my spine. The heat of his breath brushed my neck, even as the sharp sting of the ocean wind battered us both.The account he spoke of wasn’t mine. The money wasn’t even going to me. It was going to the real Tate, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.The deck was alive with people, eager to get off the ship, to escape to wherever they were going. But me? I wanted more time. A little more of this, whatever it was.Nikolai’s voice cut through the buzz, low and amused. “What’s going through t
NIKOLAIIt didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d been kidnapped. This wasn’t some random terrorist attack. No, this was planned, deliberate. My head throbbed, a sharp ache that pulsed behind my eyes as I forced myself upright. The room was dark, the only light coming from the weak flicker of a bulb above. It wasn’t enough to see much, but it was enough to hear—to feel. Someone was here with me.The groan came low and ragged, dragging my attention to the far side of the room. My chest tightened. Claude had been with me during the shootout, shielding me when he shouldn’t have. But that didn’t mean the figure slumped in the shadows was him.“Claude?” My voice was rough, edged with suspicion.The unmistakable groan of pain answered that question, and I scrambled toward the voice. My hands found him—his body slack against the floor—and I turned him onto his back. “Fuck, Claude.” The words fell from my lips as my gaze dropped to the stain spreading across his shirtI crawled toward him, my
CLAUDEFuck.That was the first thing that ripped through my head as I came to, groaning like I’d been hit by a freight train. My eyes blinked open, unfocused, until I caught sight of him—Nikolai.His lap was my goddamn pillow, his hands steady on my shoulders. And those eyes—sharp and steady—locked on mine before his lips twitched into that lazy, lopsided smile of his.“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he murmured, like I’d just woken up from a nap instead of—I groaned, trying to shift, but my body felt heavy, like my limbs didn’t belong to me. “Where are we?” My words came out rough, my throat raw.When I tried to sit up, Nikolai’s hands pressed me back down. “Don’t,” he said, his tone low. “You got shot, Claude. Pretty fucking badly, I might add.”I looked down. My chest was bare, bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, blood seeping through faintly. Not silver, though. I’d heal. A couple of days, tops.“And,” Nikolai continued, like he was delivering a punchline, a chuc
NIKOLAII WANTED TO put a bullet through her skull. The thought burned bright, searing through every rational part of me.But it was Claude’s unsteady steps that dragged my attention. He limped back towards me, his movements sluggish, and I was on my feet before I could think twice.“Christ,” I muttered, catching him as he stumbled. I pulled him flush against me, feeling the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body sagged.Guiding him to the wall, I eased him down until he was sitting. His skin was pale, his breathing uneven.“You’re pushing too hard, Claude.” My voice came out low, softer than I intended, and I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “You need to rest.”He didn’t argue, his head leaning back against the wall, his expression tight with pain. My eyes dropped to his stomach, fabric of the bandage darkened with dried blood, and let out a low breath of relief. Thank Christ they weren’t bleeding anymore.“That girl,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “she was with Antonio, wasn’t
CLAUDEI COULDN’T SETTLE.Not since I woke up to find the bed empty. Not since Nikolai had been ripped away from me. The pain in my leg was the least of my worries now, because the world felt wrong without him. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, my heart hammering in my chest as I thought about the worst.What if he was gone?The thought tightened my throat, my pulse spiking with panic.What if I never saw him again?I couldn’t breathe at the thought.Then, the door creaked open. Footsteps, heavy and uneven. My senses were flooded with blood before I saw him. The metallic tang hit my nose like a punch, and there he was—Nikolai, shoved inside, collapsing before I could think. I lunged, catching him just before his body hit the ground. The door slammed shut behind him, the loud noise ringing in my ears.“Nikolai,” I whispered, guiding him to the wall, my arm hooked under his, my palm pressing against the heat of his ribs.He groaned, sinking down until he was seated, head lolling back agai
NIKOLAI"HOW MANY FUCKING times do I have to tell you—I didn’t take your shit. This is pathetic,” I bit out, wincing as pain flared through my side. Another punch landed, sharp and painful, but I barely flinched.My glare snapped to the brute in front of me, my mind already calculating. Ways to slice him open. Methods to break him apart. He’d regret every goddamn hit the moment I got free—or when my people found me, whichever came first.The bastard sighed, dragging a hand over his shaved head like he was the one dealing with a headache. He started pacing again, heavy boots echoing off the grimy walls, and I stared at him from under my lashes, biting back the urge to spit in his face.“It isn’t about the crystals, is it?” I laughed low, shaking my head. “There’s something else.”The truth was simple: if someone had stolen from me—even a pen—I wouldn’t waste my time. They’d be dead before they could even apologize. No explanations, no second chances. A bullet, point-blank. End of story
CLAUDE SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I’d felt it the moment he was shoved back into the cell. The way he looked at me—sharp, cutting, like I was a problem he didn’t want to solve. And that kiss... It wasn’t affection. It was a punishment, cold and bruising, before he pushed me away as though the taste of me was bitter.How long had it been since he’d spoken to me? Minutes? Hours? Each minute dragged as he refused to answer my calls, refused to acknowledge me with anything other than that deadly glare.My lips had healed, but I still felt the phantom sting of that kiss. Still felt the ache like an open wound every time I dared glance at him. His rage wasn’t subtle—it rolled off him like waves.I watched him now, my eyes tracing every line of his tense frame. But Nikolai didn’t move. His gaze stayed fixed on the door, pointedly avoiding me even though I knew he could feel my stare.The sound of the door slamming open ripped my focus away. My head snapped toward it and I was surprised. They didn
CLAUDE MY WHOLE BODY ached, and a grunt left my lips as I forced my eyes open. A shaky breath slipped out as I stared at the beige wall.I blinked. My vision blurred at the edges, my throat raw as I sucked in a slow breath, tasting clean air—warm, stale, nothing like the damp rot I’d been drowning in for… gods, how long?I turned my head slowly, but the space beside me was empty.Nikolai.He had—he’d—My heart slammed once, twice. I pushed myself up, muscles screaming, my body heavy and my arm ached. I looked down, saw the needle hooked into my vein. The sight made my stomach lurch. The sharp pull of skin. The cold press of metal. Hands that had grabbed, torn, held me down—A sharp breath burned its way through my lungs.I yanked the IV out. Blood welled at the puncture site, beading, slipping over my skin, but I barely felt it. It was nothing. Nothing compared to—I swallowed hard.The sheets smelled clean. Too clean. No sweat, no filth, no blood soaked into the fibers. My pack didn
NIKOLAI EVERYTHING FUCKING HURT.My stomach felt like it had been torn open—because it had—the bandages wrapped tight around my torso doing nothing to ease the burning throb beneath. My left wrist was useless, broken and swollen, fingers stiff and unmovable. Every breath dragged through my ribs like a knife.Pain didn’t matter. Not when Claude was lying there, still as fucking death.I hadn’t moved from this chair in hours. Maybe longer. Time had blurred into the steady drip of the IV flushing the drugs from his veins, the too-shallow rise and fall of his chest, the quiet, pained sounds that barely even reached my ears. Sounds that never should have left his fucking lips. Not Claude. Not mine.I wanted to touch him. To brush my fingers over his skin, to feel the warmth of him and remind myself he was still here. Still breathing. But he looked so fucking fragile. A man who could bring me to my knees, reduced to this. Bruises painted across his body, silver burns marking his wrists whe
NIKOLAITHE GUN WAS empty. I already fucking knew that. He knew that. But I still held it like it meant something. Like I could shove it down his throat and pull the trigger just to hear the useless, hollow click. Viktor stood there, fucking smirking, like he hadn’t earned the slowest death I could give him. I wanted to carve that smirk off his face. I wanted him on his knees, choking on his own fucking teeth. His nostrils flared. He was scenting me—like an animal, like he had any right. I dragged in a sharp, deep, breath trying to steady the anger clawing at my ribs. And then he grinned. “This must be him,” he said, voice low, amused. His eyes slid past me—to Claude. Hanging there. Bound in chains. “The man I could smell all over you.” A pause. Just a second. Just long enough for me to hear it—Claude’s breath catching. Viktor chuckled. “The one who’s been fucking you.” His head tilted, his smirk stretching. “I must’ve taught you well.” Taught. The word felt like b
NIKOLAIHE WAS EASY to track.The chip was still in his ear.That meant he was still alive. That meant—I gripped my phone so tight my fingers ached, my jaw locking as I forced myself to breathe. It rang once. Twice. Then—“Nikolai.”I closed my eyes, exhaling sharply through my nose. “Enzo.”A pause. Then that goddamn smirk in his voice, like he didn’t realize I was this close to losing it. Or maybe he did and just didn’t give a fuck.“Didn’t expect you to call me this quickly.”I didn’t have time for this. Not when I finally knew where he was. Not when I didn’t know what they’d done to him. My Claude.My chest felt too tight. My pulse was a hammer against bone.“What kills a wolf?” My voice came out low, steady—too steady—but my fingers curled tighter around the phone, white-knuckled and my breath short.Enzo took a sharp breath. Then chuckled. “Why? You planning to get rid of me? Didn’t think you’d be so eager.”I bent down, yanked the zipper open on my bag, my hands moving fast, p
NIKOLAITHE DOOR SLAMMED open. I turned my head sharply, muscles tensing as a man walked in, and Christ—I didn’t need to be told he was Claude’s father. The resemblance was enough. The weight he carried in his steps was enough.Then the door opened again, and she—Ava—was rushed inside. Unconscious, clothes filthy, body limp in someone’s arms. I shot to my feet, my pulse hammering as I waited for the door to open once more. For him to walk through it.But he didn’t.“Where the fuck is he?” My voice was sharp, my steps quick as I closed the distance between me and Claude’s father. He stopped, his face twisted in something close to pain before he turned and took the stairs two at a time.A pit opened up in my stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very fucking wrong.I ran my hand through my hair and only when I dropped it did I realize—I was shaking.I turned and bolted out the door, my breath coming fast, my heart slamming against my ribs as I scanned the vast driveway. He wasn’t
!Content Warning!This chapter contains themes of sexual assault, non-consensual drugging, and past trauma. While the assault itself is not depicted on the page, the emotional and physical aftermath are explored in detail. This scene is intense, raw, and may be distressing for some readers.CLAUDEI JERKED—HARD. Hard enough that the skin of my wrists burned raw against the silver, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting him off me. Getting away. But Viktor was right there.His breath fanned across my face, hot and cloying, the same way it always did, the way it had when I was nineteen and begging for it to stop. My stomach lurched, bile burning its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down. I couldn’t be weak. Not now.Viktor clicked his tongue, a sound of amusement, of mockery. “Look at you,” he murmured, his grip tightening on my chin as he tilted my head up. “All grown up. You’ve been getting fucked, haven’t you?”His words were a blade, cuttin
CLAUDEFUCK. MY HEAD HURTS. I tried to force my eyes open, but no matter how hard I blinked, everything stayed dark, and that’s when it hit me. I was blindfolded.No. No. No.How did this happen? How did I end up here?A snarl clawed up my throat as I jerked forward, but the pull of metal—biting, burning—stopped me cold. My arms were stretched above me, bound tightly with silver. I could smell it, taste its acrid sting in the back of my throat.No.I yanked harder, muscles straining, breath heaving. The scent of damp stone and rust filled my lungs. The sound of water dripping from somewhere above was too familiar. The chains rattling over my head, too familiar. And the sound of boots—heavy, slow on concrete—hitting the ground, too fucking familiar.No. No. No.My body jerked violently, panic clawing through me, my muscles screaming as I yanked against the chains. I couldn’t—I couldn’t be here again. This can’t be happening. Not again.I felt him stop in front of me, his breath warm a
NIKOLAI“WHO THE HELL are you?”I set the bottle down, shoving my hands into my pockets, letting the silence stretch between us. I tilted my head, letting my eyes stay on her, watching every flicker of emotion cross her face.I didn’t answer right away and she Just stood there, jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. Her eyes roamed over me—calculating—like she was trying to piece me into some world I didn’t belong in.I smirked.She could smell him on me. That much I knew. I could see it in the way her gaze flickered, the tightness in her jaw. Her mate. Her fucking husband. The thought almost made me laugh.“You’re human,” she finally said, her voice tight, clipped.“And you’re his wife.” I let the words hang in the air, watching her reaction like I was savoring a slow burn.A breath left her, but she didn’t speak. She just stood there, staring at me with those cold eyes, anger rolling off her in waves. Then, she took a step forward, her heels clicking on the floor, challengin
CLAUDE I RAN A palm over my face as I slammed the car door shut and made my way toward my father’s house.‘Get over here. Now.’ That’s all he had said. No explanation. No warning. Just an order thrown through the pack link while I was with him. Nikolai. My fingers drifted to the tiny bump behind my left ear. I’d never given it much thought before. Never cared enough to. But now, as I walked, my touch stayed.The maids bowed as I passed, but their eyes stayed locked on me, their whispers curling through the air and into my ears. My scent was thick, there—like an omega bred past the heat season, claimed beyond reason. I reeked of him. Of what he had done to me. Hell, I was still leaking him.I turned left, inhaled sharply, and shoved the door open—then froze.It wasn’t just my father in the room.Alpha Monroe stood beside him.Fuck.I swallowed, shutting the door behind me, my gaze flicking from my father—his glare so sharp it could slice—to Monroe, who was staring at me like I was so