Chapter 3

3.

For the past six months, I had spent most of my time recovering.

So when he showed a need for me, I didn't refuse.

I remembered how he held me that night, sweating, claiming he was losing control.

He swore only Dr. Finch’s special blend could calm him.

Seeing him in pain broke my heart, so I agreed immediately.

Five minutes after leaving the clinic, a pickup truck smashed into me.

If I hadn't overheard that conversation, I would have blamed bad luck.

But it was Vane.

Broken ribs. Crushed wrist. A leg that barely held my weight. All him.

I wiped the cold tears from my face and walked out of the medical center, numb.

That afternoon, Vane finally returned from the territory borders.

"Why did you leave the hospital? Sorry, the Western representatives showed up unannounced. I forgot."

I shook my head, terrifyingly calm. "It’s fine. I managed."

Perhaps out of guilt, Vane took me to a high-end auction at the Metropolitan Museum that evening.

He bid aggressively, buying me expensive jewelry and antiques.

Whispers of envy rippled through the other wolves.

"Alpha Blackwood is so generous. His fiancée is lucky."

"Unlucky, you mean. The ceremony keeps getting delayed. Cursed by the Moon Goddess, probably."

"Still... to mate into the Blackwood family? Worth it."

Worth it? I looked down at my gown, imagining the ugly scars beneath the silk. I smiled bitterly.

After the auction came the gala.

Returning from the restroom, I saw Vane standing with Ivy.

She was attending as his "assistant."

They stood close, whispering. They looked... right together.

I shoved down the pain in my chest and turned to leave, but a waiter slammed into me.

Pain exploded in my unhealed wounds. My face drained of color.

I instinctively looked for Vane.

I saw him scoop up a flushed, stumbling Ivy in his arms and rush toward the exit.

He didn't even glance in my direction.

"I'm so sorry, miss..." the waiter stammered, red wine dripping from his tray onto my dress.

I gritted my teeth against the agony and limped away.

Near the end of the corridor, looking for a place to clean the wine, I heard stifled, heated sounds coming from a supply closet.

"Vane... it’s so hot... what’s happening..." It was Ivy.

Then, Vane’s voice. Calm, but laced with a dangerous tenderness.

"You’ve been dosed. Strong aphrodisiac. Breathe, Ivy. I’m here."

"No... I can't... Vane, you belong to Sienna..." Ivy’s voice wavered, sounding more like an invitation than a protest.

Vane’s tone was heartbreakingly gentle. "The drug is too strong. The hospital is too far. Don't worry, I won't go all the way. Let me help you with your hands."

Ivy was losing the battle against the drug. "But... Sienna... mmh..."

"Shhh. Don't think about her. I swear, before the next full moon, you will stand by my side legitimately."

The wet sound of kissing and moans filled the hallway.