Chapter 4

Lincoln and I had just come back to the packhouse after yet another gathering. Another gathering that I would love to forget. But this time we were sitting in the living room, the fire was going and we were sitting on the couch with Lincoln’s arm around my shoulders, acting like everything was fine.

I was wearing yet another dress that he had picked out for me.

It was pretty dark in the packhouse at this time of night. No one was hanging around. There were a few voices of people in another part of the packhouse who were still having a few more drinks with the Alpha and Luna.

But Lincoln and I were sitting on the couch staring at the fireplace. I wasn’t saying anything. I was just replaying the night over and over again in my head.

Macy tried to walk over and talk to me and as soon as she did, I got the same subtle warning from Lincoln. She didn’t see it, but I felt it. I can still feel the bruises on my waist.

It made it look like I didn’t want to talk to Macy. Like it was my choice to walk away from her and that’s probably what she thinks.

Not I’m dating Lincoln she probably thinks I am the one who thinks I am too good to be friends with her. It’s not true. I miss her more than anything.

I was relieved slightly to be sitting here. I didn’t have to put on that smile any longer. My cheeks actually hurt from that fake smile. I don’t think I could have handled it for much longer.

Lincoln growled softly when he heard the drunken voices getting louder so he got up and closed the door. He was still smiling though. He seemed very happy with how the night went. Pretending everything was perfect and normal. And that I was perfect Luna material.

“You did good tonight,” He said softly. “Everyone was watching you.”

I forced a tired smile, dispite how much it hurt my cheeks.

“Thanks. I tried.”

He stepped closer.

“You don’t have to try. You just have to listen.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach tighten.

He moved past me toward the couch, shrugging off his jacket. His laughter from earlier was gone now, replaced by that quiet focus I’d come to dread. The kind that meant he’d been thinking too much, watching too closely.

“You didn’t have to talk to Noah.” He said finally.

I froze instantly. I barely said anything to him and I kept walking as I said it. How the hell did he see?

“That wasn’t…he just asked if I’d finished the history assignment.”

Lincoln nodded slowly, like he was weighing each word. “I know. But it’s about what it looks like. You standing there, smiling at him while everyone can see you? That makes me look weak.”

“I wasn’t…”

He raised his hand slightly, not to strike me, just to make me stop talking. Which worked instantly.

“I told you before, Reagan. You have to think about how people see us. You’re part of me now. Every move you make reflects on me.”

His tone was calm, but underneath it was something cold and sharp. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the air felt thick, hard to swallow. He grabbed me by the hands and pulled me to my feet.

“I know. I’m sorry.” I whispered.

He smiled then…a soft, almost tender curve of his lips.

“Good girl.”

The words made me flinch. I hated that phrase. It wasn’t kind. It was ownership dressed as affection.

He stepped closer until I could feel the heat of him, his hand sliding around my waist. To anyone else, it would’ve looked loving. But there was no warmth in his touch. Just control.

“You know I only want the best for you, right?” He murmured. “I want you to be perfect. You can’t let people think less of you. Or of us.”

I nodded automatically, the way I always did.

“I know.”

He leaned in closer, his breath brushing my ear. “Then don’t make me doubt you again.”

The words weren’t shouted. They didn’t need to be. The quietness was worse. It wrapped around me like a leash.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The fire popped, sending a spark across the fireplace, and I startled. Lincoln chuckled softly, brushing my hair back from my face.

“Relax.” He said. “You’re too tense.”

But how could I not be?

I didn’t realize my hands were trembling until he caught one of them, holding it between both of his. His grip was firm. I tried to pull it back gently, but he wasn’t letting go of me.

“I don’t like when you pull away from me.” He whispered. “It feels like you’re hiding something.”

“I’m not.” I said quickly, heart hammering.

“I believe you.” He said after a long pause.

“I just need you to show me.”

I didn’t understand what he meant at first. Not until he guided me closer, until there was no space left between us. His voice stayed soft, soothing, almost apologetic.

“I love you, Reagan. More than anyone ever will. Don’t make me question that.”

The room felt smaller. I stood there frozen, the smell of smoke and his cologne suffocating me.

He pulled me in to kiss me, but it wasn’t the usual kiss that he gave me. It was long and demanding and possessive. I tried to pull back, I even tried to push him away.

When he finally pulled back, he looked at me with a different look on his face that I had never seen before. His eyes were black, the kindness was long gone from his face.

My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest and I turned around and tried to run from the room but he was quick to grab me around the waist and he threw me backwards onto the couch.

He leaned over me, lust in his eyes, looking me up and down as he slowly undid his pants.

“Lincoln. Please?” I begged. But he didn’t answer me.

He leaned down to kiss me again, demanding and unyielding. I couldn’t escape his grip.

He grabbed my hands with one of his and held them above my head and he pulled my dress up and ripped my panties off.

I was completely at his mercy. No matter how much I tried to fight back, he was stronger than me. I knew that I couldn’t fight him.

My wolf even retreated to the back of my mind. She was terrified and I eventually stopped fighting. I stopped moving. I laid there, pretending I was somewhere else. Pretending like this wasn’t happening to me.

When he was finally finished, the smile was back on his face, bright and beautiful. The same one that made everyone else fall in love with him.

“See?” He said lightly. “We’re fine.”

He brushed his thumb against my cheek as if to erase the fear he’d just caused. “Everyone says we’re perfect together. Don’t ever give them a reason to think otherwise.”

I nodded, because that’s all I could do.

When I finally got back to my house, my legs felt like they didn’t belong to me.

I closed my bedroom door and leaned against it, the quiet pressing against my ears until it was almost painful. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. My chest ached, but I didn’t even know what part hurt the most. The fear or the confusion or the shame that I kept trying to explain his behavior away.

He hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t hurt me. Not really anyway.

So why did it feel like something inside me had shattered anyway?

I went to the mirror and caught sight of my reflection. Hair slightly messy, eyes wide and glassy, skin pale. I barely recognized the girl staring back.

She looked like she was trying to hold herself together.

I sank down onto the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, the carpet rough against my skin. I tried to think of something, anything, to make it make sense. Maybe he was just stressed. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe love really did mean being molded into what the other person wanted.

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t true.

The fireplace smell still clung to me, smoke and cedar and fear. I could still hear his voice in my head. Calm and convincing. Don’t make me doubt you again.

I pressed my palms over my ears until my heartbeat drowned it out.

Hours passed. I didn’t move. I stared at the moonlight moving slowly across my bedroom floor.

Every part of me ached, not just from pain, but from holding everything in. The words I couldn’t say. The truth no one would believe.

Because who would?

Everyone adored Lincoln. The Alpha’s son. The golden boy. The perfect future leader.

If I told anyone what he was like when the doors closed, they’d laugh. They’d tell me I misunderstood. They’d say he loved me. That I was lucky.

And maybe that was the cruelest part — that somewhere, a piece of me still wanted to believe it too.

I stared at the ceiling until the lines blurred.

I thought about running, about telling someone, about doing something — but the thought dissolved as quickly as it came. There was nowhere to go where he wouldn’t find me.

The walls around me felt too close. The air too heavy. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I drew my blanket tighter around my shoulders, curling up on the edge of my bed.

The house was silent now. Even the forest outside seemed to hold its breath.

And for the first time, I realized I was afraid of tomorrow.

Not because of what might happen. But because I wasn’t sure I could survive it.