Elena’s POV:
My mind was made up. I wasn’t going to cry anymore over Kane or let myself wallow in the pain he caused. If he didn’t care enough to stop himself from disrespecting like that, then I had no reason to keep holding on. I deserved more—soone who would cherish and only . And if I couldn’t have love, I could at least have control.
Having made up my mind, I strode through the gates, my plan solidifying with every step. A shower, sothing sexy—sothing that scread untouchable—and then the club. What better place to find soone willing to help drown my frustration in a night of no-strings-attached pleasure?
The thought filled with a mix of resolve and rebellion. If he thought I’d roll over like a beaten pup, he had another thing coming.
As I neared the house, I spotted him sitting on the porch. Kane. His posture was tense, his head snapping up the mont he saw . Was that relief on his face?
Relief? I wanted to laugh, but there was nothing funny about the situation. My nails dug into my palms as I walked closer, trying to keep my anger simring under the surface. He stood quickly, his brows knitting together as if he was...worried?
"Hey, love," he said, his voice soft, almost panicked. "What happened? Why were you crying?"
I froze mid-step, disbelief washing over . Is he for real? Or did he hit his head while screwing his lousy bitch?
He reached out, his hand moving toward my face as if to comfort . I stepped back sharply, my glare freezing him in his tracks. Every ounce of pain I’d felt earlier churned inside , boiling over into pure, unfiltered rage.
"Don’t you dare touch with those filthy hands," I spat, my voice icy enough to cut through the tension between us.
I saw the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed as if I’d just grown a second head. Did he really think I am that stupid? Did he think he could just stand there, say sothing sweet, and I’d fall into his arms, forgetting everything?
Pathetic.
Without another word, I brushed past him, ignoring the way he called after . My chest heaved with suppressed emotion, every breath a struggle to keep myself from spinning around and tearing into him—verbally or otherwise.
As I stepped inside the house, I kept my steps deliberate, my back straight. He didn’t deserve my tears. Hell, he didn’t deserve my ti.
Upstairs, I slamd the bathroom door behind , leaning against it for a mont as the adrenaline coursed through . My reflection in the mirror stared back, eyes burning with a fire I hadn’t seen before.
"Fuck him," I muttered to myself, pushing off the door.
Tonight wasn’t about wallowing. It was about taking back control. Letting him know just how replaceable he was.
After my shower, I’d go to that club. I’d find soone—anyone—who could help forget, even if just for a little while.
And when I ca back, I’d make sure to reek of another wolf, just to drive the point ho. Then I’d reject his sorry ass.
He wanted to play gas? Fine. But I wasn’t going to lose.
After my shower, I wrapped myself in a robe and stepped out into the room, only to find Kane pacing, his hands running through his hair like he was grappling with so great tragedy. What the hell was his problem? If he was so bothered, he could go back to his stupid bitch and screw her so more.
I headed straight to the closet, yanking it open to find the outfit I had in mind.
"Elena, talk to ," he said, his voice almost pleading.
I froze for a mont before spinning around to face him. My eyes locked onto his, sharp as daggers.
"And tell you what?" I hissed. "That I fucking hate you? That I can’t stand to look at your stupid face?"
He flinched, but I didn’t care. He deserved worse. Turning back to the closet, I grabbed the dress—a short, body-hugging number with an open back and a plunging neckline. It was bold, scandalous even, and exactly what I needed tonight.
Before he could say another word, I stord back into the bathroom. Kane, being the insufferable alpha he was, followed . He barely opened his mouth to speak before I slamd the door in his face, cutting him off mid-breath.
I slipped into the dress, the fabric clinging to like a second skin. Perfect. Next, I styled my hair, rolling it into soft curls and leaving bangs to fra my face. A bit of makeup completed the look—just enough to enhance what I already had. Flawless.
When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, Kane was still there, leaning against the doorfra like a guard dog. His eyes raked down my body, lingering a little too long on every curve. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
Good. Let him look. Let him want.
But he would never touch again.
I brushed past him without a word, heading straight for the shoe rack. The white heels I’d picked out were waiting for , and as I slid them on, I felt his presence behind .
"You’re not going anywhere dressed like that," he finally growled, his voice low, commanding.
I couldn’t help but laugh—a short, bitter sound. I turned to him with a smirk that didn’t reach my eyes.
"And who’s going to stop ? You?" I asked, arching a brow.
"Elena," he started, his tone warning, but I cut him off.
"Your words an nothing to , Kane," I spat. "They lost all aning the mont you fucked that lousy bitch."
I didn’t wait for his response. I didn’t care what excuse or apology he had lined up. With my head held high, I walked out of the room, my heels clicking against the floor, never sparing him another glance.
Tonight, I’m reclaiming myself. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
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