EllaThe restaurant loomed ahead, a tall edifice much like the first place Logan and I first officially ‘met’—after our initial alleyway meeting, back when he thought I was a ‘peasant’.The building’s height mirrored its reputation. It stood out distinctly against the city skyline, with its harsh gray reliefs and facades. It was a cold metal obelisk, much unlike the beautifully ornate buildings I had grown up surrounded by while growing up, but it had its own brutalist charm as well.Behind the glass facade, I could see a sea of figures moving around. The street was lined with expensive sports cars, and men and women dressed in even more expensive dresses, tuxedos, watches, and jewelry were stepping out of them.My heart raced as Logan and I stepped out of the car and joined them. The thumping of my heels against the pavement reminded me of the beats of a war drum, resonating with my rising anxiety.Growing up, I had become used to events like this. The red carpet was no stranger to m
EllaInside the grandiose ballroom of the restaurant, with its dimly lit chandeliers and expensive-looking wall hangings, Logan began mingling. A sudden sense of isolation swept over me as I clung to his arm, the only anchor amidst a sea of unknown faces.“Do you think this is how Moana feels at the events with Edrick?” Ema asked, feeling just as cautious as I did.I imperceptibly shook my head. “No. My dad always cares for her at their events, and it’s not nearly as dangerous. Although, I do remember her telling me how people looked down on her back before she was the Golden Wolf. So maybe this is a little like how she felt back that. But just a little.”As we approached groups of men in tailored suits, discussing what I presumed were deals and underworld business, Logan would pause to introduce me.“This is Dahlia,” he would say smoothly, each time keeping his promise to use my pseudonym.As we continued to navigate through the crowd, my senses became more acute to the conversations
EllaThe ballroom dazzled, and it wasn't just because of the opulent chandeliers dripping with crystals or the intricately patterned marble floors. It was the undercurrents of power and danger, the whispered exchanges and sidelong glances. Every single person seemed important in ways I didn't understand, and every conversation felt weightier than it should.Logan led me around the room, his charm a palpable force. I couldn't help but watch him, part in awe and part in apprehension, as he interacted effortlessly with those around him.As we weaved through the crowd, a loud, boisterous voice pulled us into an unwanted spotlight.“Logan!” A tall man with an ostentatious suit grinned widely, slapping Logan’s back with a hearty laugh. “Who's this stunner you've got with you? Another fleeting diversion?”Logan’s face tightened for just a split second before he responded, his voice dripping with controlled authority. “This is Dahlia. My girl.”A peculiar warmth flooded my cheeks, and I felt
EllaThe dim light of the restroom cast shadows that danced eerily across the ornate walls. I stood there, staring blankly at the face reflected back at me from the gilded mirror. The hushed whispers of the escorts in the adjacent stalls echoed painfully in my mind, punctuated by the occasional muted giggle from the ballroom outside.A world of stark contrasts.My heart thudded painfully, each beat screaming a desperate question. What could I, Ella, do in a world of opulence, where beneath the surface, darkness thrived?“Ella.” The soft, husky voice in my mind was familiar, comforting. Ema always seemed to speak up when I was in turmoil, a constant friend and source of reason. “These women… they need our help.”I closed my eyes, trying to still the tumultuous emotions raging within. “It’s not our world, Ema. Interfering might bring danger to us and them.”There was a pause, and when Ema spoke, there was a gentle conviction in her tone. “We are strong, Ella. We are wolf and woman. Thes
EllaThe stretcher bearing the injured man maneuvered its way through the crowd. The room seemed to be in slow motion, with each passing second feeling like an eternity. The stark contrast of the man’s bloodied face against the pristine backdrop of the opulent ballroom was a sight that would stay with me for a long time.Logan, ever the picture of calm, nonchalantly picked up a white cloth napkin from a nearby table. With deliberate strokes, he began to clean the blood from his knuckles. To the casual observer, it would seem like he was simply wiping away a spill from dinner. But I knew better.A well-dressed man approached Logan, a smirk playing on his lips.“Well done, Logan,” he said, clapping him on the back with an almost brotherly familiarity. “That guy was a real Class A pest. Maybe now he’ll finally learn his lesson.”Logan just nodded, his face expressionless. He said nothing; there was nothing he could say. It wasn’t exactly like he could reveal that he had beat up a man for
LoganThe symphony of the ballroom surrounded us: the gentle murmur of voices, the soft clink of glasses, and the mesmerizing notes of the orchestra weaving a spell around the dancing couples.But amidst all the sounds, there was a silence, a charged void, between Ella and me.Every step we took, every turn, and every glide was a wordless conversation.My wolf, always alert beneath the surface, yearned to entangle with hers, to join in a dance of their own. I could feel the pull, the almost magnetic attraction between our two spirits, and it was maddening.“I wish she would let me in,” my wolf complained, his voice a growl in the back of my mind as it mirrored my own turmoil. “Just for a moment.”“I know,” I answered. “She’s a fortress.”No matter what I did, Ella and her wolf resisted. There was a barrier, a wall she had erected, both to protect herself and to maintain a distance from the chaos of my world.My wolf growled low in frustration, longing to bridge that gap, to assert our
EllaThe bar was dimly lit, its ambiance intensified by the low hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the soft strains of ambient music. Golden chandeliers, casting sporadic glows, adorned the room, contrasting the otherwise dark woodwork.I felt the cool leather of the bar stool beneath me as I observed the people around, each of them engrossed in their own narratives, oblivious to mine.It’s amazing how, even in a room full of people, you can feel alone, disconnected. My fingers absentmindedly played with the stem of my wine glass as I lost myself in my thoughts, waiting for Logan to return.“Is this seat taken?” The voice was suave, a touch too smooth. Turning slightly, I found myself looking up at a tall man, his finely tailored suit hinting at wealth and power.I gave a noncommittal shrug. “It’s free.”He grinned, revealing perfectly aligned teeth. “You’re Logan Barrett’s, aren’t you?” There was a knowing glint in his eyes, as though he believed he had already figured me ou
EllaThe laughter from Logan was unexpected—a short burst, barely audible over the ambient hum of the bar's patrons.“You’re very funny, Ella,” he said, shaking his head.I sat up straighter, leveling Logan with an icy stare. “I’m dead serious, Logan.”His blue eyes bore into mine, trying to gauge if I was joking. “You? A gun?”“Yes,” I replied, unwavering. “Growing up, my father made sure I took shooting lessons. For self-defense. Your bodyguard has an extra pistol, doesn't he?”Logan’s expression shifted from amusement to contemplation. “You truly think you can handle it?”“I wouldn’t be asking if I couldn’t.”He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Alright. But you’ll have to prove yourself first.”“Prove myself how?” I laughed, looking around. “Don’t tell me your next big reveal of the night is for me to shoot the pimp that’s been standing in the corner and giving you dirty glares since you beat up one of his customers.”Logan’s face turned a slight shade of red, but only