Lara's POV
The black wolf had vanished into the darkness, but his warmth still lingered in the air. I could almost feel his breath on my skin, the echo of his presence wrapping around me like an invisible cloak. I should have been afraid. I should have screamed, but I couldn't move. There was something inside me that stirred when he looked at me, something wild and confusing that I didn't understand at all.
The gray wolf's attack still played in my mind. I could feel his claws tearing through my arm, the sharp sting of pain that made me gasp. But when I looked down, the long scratch had disappeared completely. My skin was smooth and unbroken.
My heart pounded as disbelief washed over me. I remembered the pain, yet there was no wound, no scar, nothing. Goosebumps spread across my entire body. Was this really happening to me? Or was I finally losing my sanity after everything Marco had done to me?
Sleep refused to come. My thoughts twisted endlessly, chasing shadows of questions that had no answers. I needed to talk to Cammie, but I already knew she was one of Marco's most trusted allies. She would never betray him, not even for me. I had no one else to turn to, no one I could trust.
So I grabbed my phone and sent a message to Corbin, asking him to meet me tomorrow at his favorite place. The most luxurious club in the city that only the rich and powerful could afford.
His reply came faster than I expected.
"I'm excited to see you tomorrow, sweetheart."
He added a few heart emojis, the kind he always used to tease and test my limits. It would always make me grunt or shake my head, because I knew he was so full of himself.
Corbin never missed a chance to remind me of his charm, and it both amused and infuriated me in equal measure. There was something about his confidence that could make me laugh and roll my eyes at the same time. But tonight, instead of smiling, I only sighed in exhaustion, wishing my thoughts could finally rest.
I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would finally take me. It didn't.
The next morning, Marco acted as if I didn't exist. His indifference was sharper than any insult. I handed him his schedule for the day, and without even looking at me, he dismissed me with a curt nod. He didn't ask me to prepare his coffee, didn't request his usual reports, didn't even glance my way. Later, I heard from one of the other assistants that he had asked someone else to make his coffee. For a moment, I just stood there, numb, my throat tightening.
It shouldn't have hurt. But it did.
I remembered what Cammie told me about how Marco defied his parents and the council for years because he didn't want me. He never wanted me as his mate or the mother of his child.
He agreed only after the Seer's warning that something terrible would happen to the werewolf community if he didn't mark his fated mate on the blood moon of the fifth month of this year.
And that fated mate was me.
That was the only reason he marked me during the company's annual team building in the mountains. I thought it was just another corporate ritual, another excuse for him to assert control. But now it made sense. If they truly were wolves, then it explained why the team building always happened in mountain resorts or on isolated peaks. Perhaps it was their hunting ground, their sanctuary, their place to unleash what they really were.
Still, to me, it sounded insane.
I had to be strong. I had to resist him, no matter how much I wanted to melt every time he looked at me. I couldn't show him any affection, couldn't let him see how deeply I still cared. I needed to treat him with the same cold indifference he gave me, even if every part of me ached to do the opposite.
Because if I didn't, he would see right through me, and that would destroy me completely.
The city lights shimmered through the tinted windows of the luxurious club. The air smelled faintly of expensive wine and perfume, and the low hum of laughter and soft jazz floated from the main hall below. Corbin had rented one of the exclusive private rooms upstairs, hidden away from curious eyes. The room was dimly lit, with velvet seats and a glass table that reflected the soft golden glow of the chandelier.
When I arrived, Corbin was already there, lounging with a drink in his hand. He looked exactly the same as always, confident, handsome, and infuriatingly smug. The moment he saw me, he smiled, wearing that familiar grin that used to amuse and irritate me all at once.
"Lara," he greeted, standing up and opening his arms slightly as if expecting me to walk into them. I didn't move. I only nodded and took the seat across from him.
He poured wine into my glass, his movements smooth and deliberate. "You look tense," he said with a smirk. "You didn't come all the way here just to see me, did you?"
I hesitated for a moment, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. "I need your help," I said softly, finally telling him the reason I came to see him.
His brows rose, and then his laughter filled the room and made my chest tighten with unease. "You want to borrow money from me?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as if the thought alone entertained him.
"The mighty Lara Quinn finally asking help from me." He tilted his head, studying me with a look that made my skin crawl. I refused to look away.
He smirked again. "I have waited for this moment, Lara. To see you here, sitting in front of me, needing something from me. Do you know how long I've wanted to use this chance to make you mine? But you were always so distant, always looking at Marco as if no one else existed. You were untouchable. And now it's too late."
His voice softened then, but the bitterness beneath it was impossible to miss. "He marked you, and that means there's nothing I can do. Unless, of course, he rejects you."
My face fell. The word reject pierced deeper than I expected, and I looked down, trying to hide the ache that rose in my chest.
Corbin sighed and swirled his wine slowly, his gaze distant for a moment. "Besides, I can't help you, Lara. Not now. I can't afford to gamble anything at this point. You know how the council and the elders watch every move I make. If I help you, they'll use it against me. My chance of replacing Marco as Alpha would vanish completely."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper. "I have been preparing for this for years. Every move, every alliance. I can't throw it away, even for you. No matter how much I like you, I can't help you. I don't want to be banished from my pack."
I sat there, silent. It wasn't the date I had promised him. It was a desperate attempt to find solutions, to survive in a world that kept pulling me deeper into a truth I still didn't understand.
His words hit harder than I expected. The last shred of hope I had slipped away, disappearing as quickly as the warmth in my chest. I stared at the untouched glass of wine before me, feeling the weight of his rejection press down until I could barely breathe.
Outside, laughter echoed faintly through the walls. The music went on, glasses clinked, people celebrated. It felt cruel that the world kept spinning while mine slowly fell apart.
Corbin asked his driver to take me home, and I was too tired to argue. I had nowhere else to go, nowhere to breathe without feeling the weight of failure pressing against my chest. The car ride felt endless. The city lights passed by like ghosts, fading and reappearing against the glass, and for the first time, I let my tears fall quietly.
But I didn't stop there. I couldn't.
The next morning, I filed an emergency leave and went straight to the bank, clinging to a faint thread of hope that maybe, I could still fix everything. The air inside the bank was cold and sterile, the kind that made you feel small and exposed. I sat across from the loan officer, explaining my situation with trembling hands. She offered a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes, and when she shook her head, I already knew what it meant.
My credit standing was too low. The system didn't believe in me any more than Marco did.
Days turned into weeks. I counted every sunrise like a ticking clock, each one pushing me closer to the edge. It had been almost a month, and I only had three days left before Marco's deadline.
Still, I refused to surrender. I reached out to old college friends, pretending not to notice how their tone changed the moment they heard what I needed. I called distant relatives I hadn't spoken to in years, swallowing my pride as I begged for help. Each rejection chipped away at my hope until I could barely recognize the woman in the mirror.
By the time the due date arrived, I had nothing, no money, no plan, no strength to pretend anymore. The city outside my window was alive, but I felt completely hollow inside.
Two days before, a courier had come to our house carrying an envelope. Inside was the contract. No note, no message, only the weight of his signature and mine waiting to follow. It felt like a warning, a reminder of what I owed him, as if Marco wanted to prove he had been right all along. I could never pay him in a month, not even in a year.
The night before the deadline, I stood by the window for a long time, watching the city lights blur like fading stars. Every failure replayed in my mind, the rejected loan, the unanswered messages, the people who promised to help but never did. I had fought until I could no longer feel my own strength.
I finally let the truth sink in. I had nothing left to offer, nothing that could make Marco change his mind, nothing that could repay what I owed. The only thing I still had was myself. And for the first time, I realized that was all he had ever asked for.
The morning came quietly. The sun rose, but it brought no comfort, only the heavy certainty of what I needed to do. I stared at the envelope on my table, the contract waiting to be signed, and felt the last of my pride slip away.
Today, I would face him, and I would give him my answer. Because when everything else was gone, I knew I had nothing left to give Marco Blackwell but myself.