ELARA
Jeremy jumped to his feet, helping me up in one quick motion. We barely had time to fix ourselves before the door burst open— slamming hard against the wall.
My breath caught in my throat.
Hardin?
For a split second, I couldn't even move. How the hell did he find us here?
His eyes locked on mine instantly, wild and furious, the kind of rage that came from worry, frustration, and something else I couldn't place. Then, without a word, he crossed the room in a few long strides and grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward the door like Jeremy didn't exist in the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped, wrenching my hand free and stepping back from him.
"Taking you home," he growled, his voice low and rough. His nostrils flared, his eyes burning like he was barely holding himself together.
I glanced back at Jeremy, expecting him to step in or say something, just anything, but he just stood there, frozen. Guilt flickered across his face like it was his second shadow.
"Jeremy?" I called out, my voice trembling. "Are you seriously just going to stand there and watch him drag me away?"
Before he could even respond, Hardin cut in, his tone sharp enough to slice the air.
"Unless he's got a death wish, he won't say a word."
My mouth fell open. "And who the hell are you to decide that?" I shot back, my voice rising. "Because you're the Alpha King's son, you think you can control everyone around you? That people should just bow at your feet or do your biddings?"
His lips twitched, almost a smirk, the exact type that wasn't amusement but restraint. "Elara, I don't have time for this," he said tightly. "You've got no idea what I went through just to find you. Now, unless you want him—" his eyes darted to Jeremy "—to pay for what he's done, stop arguing and come with me."
My chest rose and fell the same as I stared at him. "You can't just threaten people like that. If something's going on, at least explain it—"
"Just do as he says," Jeremy finally spoke, his tone calm but heavy.
I turned to him, shocked. "What?"
He gave a small shake of his head, that silent signal that told me not to argue, not here, not now. Maybe when we get to the part where he started explaining, and God helping him, he doesn't have a good reason for doing any of this, then he'd really got a death wish.
So… I tried to be calm. But my throat was still dry from the shock and heaven knows I wanted to scream at Hardin, but something in Jeremy's eyes stopped me.
I turned back to Hardin, glaring, but finally gave in. "Fine."
Hardin didn't waste another second. He reached for my hand again, his grip firm, pulling me toward the door.
"Alpha Thomas already sent his men," he muttered coldly. "If I were you, I'd tell your little friend here to stay low."
My heart skipped.
My father sent his men… to Jeremy?
Why? Was he planning to hurt him?
I didn't even get the chance to speak, Hardin had already dragged me out of the house. His grip was firm, and unyielding.
Outside, his black car waited under the dim streetlights, gleaming like it had just rolled out of a showroom. Too spotless to have seen much use. Why the show off? I scoffed.
He stopped beside it, pressed a button on the key, and the headlights blinked to life, cutting through the early dawn darkness. Without looking at me, he opened the passenger door.
"Get in," he ordered, his tone clipped, not sounding like a request, not even close.
I folded my arms. "I have my own car. I can drive myself."
He paused, turned to face me, and gave me that look, the one that somehow managed to be calm, condescending, and frustrating all at once. "Oh, really?" he said dryly. "Then maybe you can drive us to where I have in mind."
I scowled. "And where exactly is that?"
"Get in, Elara," he repeated, his voice low but heavy with command this time, like I was already testing his limits.
I knew better than to keep arguing. Huffing, I muttered a curse under my breath, loud enough for him to hear, because I actually wanted him to hear it, then climbed into the car, slamming the door harder than necessary.
The moment he got behind the wheel, he turned the key and the engine roared to life. He didn't waste a second before stepping on the pedal, speeding down the empty street like the night itself was chasing him.
The drive lasted maybe ten minutes, though it felt longer. The clock on the dashboard glowed past five, and the faint light of dawn began pushing through the clouds, washing the sky in soft grey.
When he finally stopped, he stepped out first and walked around to my side. Before I could even reach for the handle, he opened the door for me.
I blinked, momentarily thrown off. One minute, he's all sharp edges and temper, and the next, he's doing things that almost… contradict it.
"Thanks," I muttered under my breath as I got out, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
That was when my gaze lifted to the building before us. It wasn't the Alpha's quarters. This place was smaller, quieter, with pale walls that looked almost abandoned from the outside. But something about it felt… intentional.
Hardin didn't explain a thing. He just walked ahead, pushing open the small iron gate before unlocking the main door.
And when I stepped inside, I couldn't help but gawk.
The interior was nothing like I expected, sleek, dark, with carefully chosen paintings lining the walls. It felt like a hidden piece of him, both chaos and calm, shadow and light. The air itself carried his aura, that sharp, controlled, intoxicating one. Just like his room back at the Alpha quarters.
"Make yourself at home," he muttered casually, his fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt.
I almost laughed. Make myself at home? Did he seriously just say that?
Why was I even surprised at all?
The kind of man who could threaten you one second… and leave you speechless the next.
"How about we start talking about what happened earlier?" I said, forcing a dramatic calm face that barely looked normal. "I'm really dying to know right now." My smile was stiff, the kind that obviously didn't reach my eyes without having to double check.
Hardin said nothing. He just peeled off his shirt, slowly and deliberately, an act I'm guessing was supposed to get me more pissed, like he knew exactly what he was doing. His muscles shifted under his skin, but I didn't care, or at least, I told myself I didn't.
"Don't make me feel like I'm talking to the walls, Hardin." I pushed but still nothing. His hands moved to his trousers next.
I crossed my arms, refusing to flinch, even as the room's air thickened with his usual, infuriating confidence. This was his game, he wants to make me look away first. He'd done it before, but not this time. I'm not letting him think he'd win.
He started walking toward the bathroom, and before I could stop myself, I followed. Then he paused mid-step, his back still to me.
"I don't mind you escorting me to the bathroom," he said, turning slightly, that teasing, flirty smile tugging at his lips. "After all, you are my mate."
I glared. "You're such a pervert, you know that, right?"
He chuckled softly. "I won't argue. But let's be fair here, you were the one who watched me strip and now you're about to follow me to the bathroom. So… who's the real pervert now?"
I exhaled sharply, through my mouth, trying not to shout at him. "I didn't know you were going into the bathroom, alright?"
He arched a brow, his eyes glinting. "Where else would I go, half-naked? Outside?"
"Look," I snapped, taking a step forward. "I don't want to do this right now, Hardin. All I care about is Jeremy. Tell me what's going to happen to him."
"That'll have to wait. I'm practically itching all over. I need a shower right now."
"What?" my brows snapped together. "Someone's life is in danger and you think having a shower is more important than that? You're going nowhere."
I pushed past him and planted myself in front of the bathroom door, my spine straight, and my voice steady, even though I knew this man could easily move me if he wanted to. "You'll have to go through me first. Otherwise, just tell me everything, Hardin. I need to know if he's safe."
He didn't speak at first. He just looked at me, his expression unreadable, then started moving closer.
Each step he took felt heavier, slower, and deliberate. My pulse stuttered, my breath caught.
He leaned down until our faces were only inches apart, his voice dropping low, velvety and dangerous. "Do you like him that much?"
I couldn't tell if he was serious or just playing with me.
"That's none of your business," I said quietly. "And even if I do, what then? You're planning to hurt him or report him?"
He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. "No. But it'll hurt his ego when he realizes the girl he's so desperate to protect doesn't even trust him to protect himself."
"I do trust him," I shot back. "I just don't trust my father or you either."
His eyes darkened. He leaned in closer until I could feel his breath ghost across my lips, barely an inch separating us now.
"Listen, Elara," Hardin said, his voice low and steady, "I'm not gonna stop you from letting your heart choose Jeremy. But your body?" He stepped closer, his eyes locking with mine. "That's mine."
My chest tightened. "And as for his safety," he continued, "he'll be fine, as long as he doesn't admit to knowing where you are. Your father already suspects you two might've been together. And just so you know, Aaron's on his way to your place. I'll still have to drop you off there myself."
He paused, his tone turning colder. "So, maybe thank me later for saving your ass. If those hounds had gotten there before I did, your sweet little love story would've ended tonight."
The words cut deep, sharp into my soul..
Then his fingers brushed over my lips, soft and unhurried, like he intentionally wanted to stir something before he gently pushed me aside and walked past toward the bathroom.
I stood there, frozen, trying to process everything.
Did I really just put Jeremy in danger?
He knew the risk, and still helped me anyway?
I sank into the nearest chair, my heartbeat pounding painfully in my ears.
When Hardin returned, he was fresh out of the shower, damp hair clinging to his forehead, droplets of water sliding down his chest in slow, reckless trails.
I looked once, just one tiny once, before snapping my gaze to the floor, pretending the colored tile suddenly fascinated me.
Goddess, why was it so hot in here?
Why did my body feel like it was burning from the inside out every time he was near?
I shifted in the chair, but the heat only intensified, curling low in my stomach until my vision blurred for a moment.
And then…
'Stop fighting it, Elara. You can only hear me when the bond is strong. Do you understand me?'
The voice echoed in my head, clear and commanding. My breath hitched. For a second, I was trying to pull myself together, but to be sure I wasn't losing my sanity, I tried to answer.
'What are you?' I asked, only to realize the words hadn't left my mouth.
'I'm Asher,' the voice replied. 'Your wolf.'
I froze.
What? That couldn't be possible. Was that a joke right now? I thought but Asher heard even my personal thoughts.
'I'm not joking,' the voice insisted, calm but firm. 'You locked me away for years after what happened that night. But now, with your mate bond flaring this strong, I can finally reach you again.'
My throat went dry.
I had a wolf?
What in the Goddess's name was happening to me?
Then Hardin's voice broke through the haze. "Elara?" he said softly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. "Are you okay?"
I didn't respond. No. I couldn't. My throat felt tight, slim, my skin burning from the inside out, every breath scraping against the fire that refused to die down inside me.
Hardin noticed instantly. He was beside me before I could blink, his arm sliding around my waist to steady me as my body almost gave out.
"Hey, hey, easy now," he whispered, his voice low but laced with worry. "Shit. Your heat's strong, Elara."
I tried to push him away, but the moment I did, the burning worsened. The only thing cooling it—barely—was his touch. His nearness.
"You can't push me away," he murmured, his hand firm at my back. "Not if you really want to survive this."
"You're such a pervert," I breathed weakly, my voice trembling more than I wanted it to. But somehow, I was already leaning into him. My body betrayed me, melting against his warmth.
I ended up in his arms, my cheek pressed to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under my skin. My fingers found their way to his shoulders, just to steady myself, I told myself.
"I'm only staying like this until it passes," I warned, my voice a whisper against his skin. "Don't even think about doing anything stupid."
He didn't reply, just stayed there, letting me cling to him like my body was at war with itself.
Somewhere deep inside, Asher went silent again. Thank Goddess. I couldn't handle her voice right now. It was already too much to process—that I had a wolf, that my body was burning because of some bond I barely understood.
Then Hardin's voice came again, rougher this time. "You smell…"
I groaned softly. "Please don't. Don't even start with that, Hardin. I don't need you reminding me how… how bad this heat is. Not now. Not eve. with you."
He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated against my cheek.
"What's so damn funny?" I snapped, glaring weakly at him.
His eyes darkened with something dangerous, something that made my stomach twist.
"You have no idea," he said quietly, leaning closer, "what you wrapping yourself around me is doing to me."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my voice sharp but unsteady.
He shifted against the chair, making me lean just a little closer, close enough for his breath to brush across my skin. His eyes trailed over me in a way that made my stomach tumble over.
"Do you really think you're the only one feeling this heat right now?" His tone was rough, strained. "I bet Aaron's going wild somewhere too."
I blinked, trying to focus through the haze fogging my mind. "You're… feeling it too?"
He gave a humorless chuckle. "What do you think, Elara? You're my mate. Your heat is supposed to drive me insane, and right now, you're making it impossible to control myself when you're this close."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But there's a better way to make it stop."
That smirk, that stupid dark, teasing, dangerous one spread slowly across his face.
My brain screamed not to fall for his tricks, but my body didn't seem to care. I tried to push myself up, to move away, and I almost made it, but his hand caught my wrist, pulling me back with a single effortless tug.
"Where do you think you're going, freckles?" he murmured, his tone low and possessive.
The pull sent me stumbling forward, right back into him. I froze, every muscle in my body locking as the air between us thickened, charged, almost electric. His heartbeat pounded against my back, steady but fast, and I could feel the tension rolling off him like heat from a flame.
The silence stretched, heavy and wild. And that was when my brain finally caught up.
F*ck. I was sitting in between his legs. On his damn dick.
"Still think you can handle this?" he whispered near my ear, his voice a mix of restraint and desire.