After the dance party, Bruce and Katherine said goodbye and went home with me by car.

The car was filled with suffocating silence. I watched him from the corner of my eye, Jessica's words haunting me like a demon's whisper.


I needed clarity. Thinking back, I realized Bruce had never once said "I love you" to me, nor had his actions ever truly conveyed love.

Should I speak up? Should I ask about his true feelings—give our marriage one last chance?

Perhaps I should simply ask if he had ever loved me at all.


But every time I gathered my courage, I'd catch sight of his cold, distant eyes, and the words would die in my throat.

I remained trapped in my own indecision until we arrived home, the moment for conversation lost.


Back in our bedroom, the door had barely clicked shut when Bruce yanked me against him, his hands already pushing beneath my dress.

I tried to push him away, but his strength was overwhelming. "Bruce, wait—stop, I need to talk to you—mmph—"

Before I could finish, he crushed his mouth against mine, slamming me against the wall.

He pinned me there, his muscular thigh forcing its way between my legs. After a bruising kiss, he released my lips only to bite my earlobe, then trail aggressive kisses down my neck.

"Stop—Bruce, please—we need to talk—"

He barely slowed, his hot breath ragged against my ear. "Elara, shh—be a good girl—"

With a jolt of fear, I realized he'd entered his feral period—that dangerous time when Alphas could partially shift, their rational minds clouded by primal lust.

Just then, the image of him dancing with Katherine flashed through my mind.

With a violent rip, Bruce tore my dress down the middle.

Cold air hit my exposed skin as shame and humiliation washed over me. "No—"

Bruce roughly kissed my chest. The thought struck me like lightning—he was using my body while fantasizing about Katherine. Something inside me snapped.

With strength born of rage, I shoved Bruce back and before I could think, my palm connected with his cheek with a resounding crack.

Bruce froze in shock. Then his eyes blazed crimson, fangs elongating at the corners of his mouth, his entire body radiating a terrifying aura that made the air crackle with danger.

My mind went blank with terror. "You—"

I was paralyzed with fear; I had never seen Bruce this close to losing control.

He loomed over me like a predator, clearly stunned that his plaything would dare to resist, and furious at my defiance.

"Elara—" he growled my name through clenched teeth, "Do you have any idea what you've just done—"

His transformation continued—claws extending from his fingertips, eyes burning like hot coals as he stared me down like a wolf cornering its prey.

I tried to retreat, but the wall blocked my escape. Memories of past pain flooded back—the countless nights of agony—and I trembled uncontrollably, trapped with nowhere to run.