Chapter 1: Torn Between Beast and Man

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"Get into the office. Now."

Jarem Blackwood's voice cut through the air like a whip. The coldness in his tone sent a shiver down my spine. I had no idea what had triggered his anger—nothing I'd done could explain the rage I saw in his eyes. But when an alpha commands, you obey, no matter the storm brewing behind his gaze.

As soon as I stepped into the office, he looked me over, his eyes roaming with disdain, lingering on the soft fabric of the dress I had chosen so carefully. In a heartbeat, he gripped it, tearing it as if it were made of paper. Before I could even react, he spun me around, and without warning, he was inside me.

I screamed—loud, pained, and desperate. Nothing about it was tender. There was no love, no warmth. Only agony. Each thrust felt like he was breaking me apart. I pleaded, breathless, my voice cracking, "Jarem... slower... please."

He didn't stop. In fact, he slammed into me harder, with more force, as if punishing me for something I couldn't even understand. Tears streamed down my face. My voice was raw as I begged, "Jarem, stop... please, I'm begging you."

It didn't matter. His grip tightened as if his humanity had vanished, replaced by something savage and cruel. All I could do was pray—to the Moon Goddess, to anyone who would listen—that his wolf would take over. His wolf loved me. I was sure of it. His wolf wouldn't hurt me like this.

Suddenly, he flipped me over, slamming me down onto the desk. The cool wood pressed into my bare skin as he positioned me the way he wanted. One of his hands clamped around my neck, sliding down to my chest, while the other grabbed my waist. I was nothing but a possession to him in that moment, a tool for his anger. He entered me again with brutal force.

I choked on my words, "Please, Kris... help. It hurts. It hurts so much." My hand shot to his stomach, pushing weakly, but it was useless. He overpowered me completely.

And then, as if by some miracle, his wolf took control.

The shift was immediate. He stopped. His grip softened. His wolf—Kris—caressed my face, his thumb gently wiping away my tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I'm so sorry." He kissed me softly, and the pain began to fade, replaced by a slow, deliberate tenderness. He moved with care, as if trying to undo the damage that had been done. My body relaxed, the torment subsiding as we found our rhythm together, and the intensity finally climaxed in a shared moment of release.

But then, it was over. He pulled me off the desk, and I knew immediately... it wasn't Kris anymore. Jarem had returned.

"You know where the bathroom is," Jarem muttered, his voice icy again. "Clean yourself up and get out. I don't need you anymore. I don't want to see you tonight."

I stumbled into the bathroom, my dress in tatters. Humiliation stung my skin as I cleaned up. When I emerged, the reality of my situation hit me—there was no hiding what had happened. My dress was ruined, shredded beyond repair.

"I can't go out like this," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"What the hell is taking you so long?" Jarem snapped, his patience fraying.

I looked down at the shredded fabric. "My dress... I can't go out like this."

He snorted, his lip curling with disdain. "Go to your room. And the next time you dare call my wolf in the middle of it..." He stepped toward me, the threat in his eyes unmistakable. "You don't know what I'm capable of, Zayra Lockhard. Don't push me."

I lowered my head, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Go." His voice was venomous. "And no, you're not going home tomorrow. This is your home now."

I swallowed hard. "But I want to see my family."

His eyes flashed with warning. "You'll see your family when I say so. Don't make me repeat myself. Go to your room."

"Yes, Alpha," I murmured, knowing there was no room for argument.

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