Chapter 3
Natasha’s POV
He yanks me toward him with savage force, then tears my clothes apart.
I watch as his eyes—which had just returned to normal—are now consumed by crimson flames of desire. "Are... are you insane?" I gasp, my voice betraying me with its tremor.
His breath comes in heavy pants against my neck. His hand pauses at my chest before unhesitatingly ripping away the last piece of fabric covering me.
My breasts are exposed to the cold air, and I grit my teeth as shame and an inexplicable thrill collide inside me like opposing weather fronts.
"I'm sorry..." His voice is sandpaper-rough with a hint of anguish. As the apology leaves his lips, his palm covers my breast. I suck in a sharp breath, about to push him away when his mouth crashes down on mine, his tongue invading with alpha-male dominance.
My brain short-circuits, the line between fighting back and giving in blurring like watercolors in rain.
When his hand yanks down my panties and his fingers boldly explore between my thighs, I'm mortified enough to scream—but that rough friction ignites something primal and unfamiliar that has my body betraying my better judgment.
"You're wet..." he growls, the words vibrating against my skin.
His fingers work inside me, teasing places I didn't know could feel so much, and my body arches of its own accord.
He unfastens his pants, and his erection springs free—so thick my stomach clenches with equal parts fear and anticipation.
Before I can process what's happening, he thrusts forward...
The next morning, memories from the night before flood back like a tsunami, heat rushing to my cheeks. Oh my God, I actually had sex with a werewolf. I carefully ease myself out of bed, searching for my underwear, desperate to escape before he wakes.
"Ahem." A deep cough shatters the silence.
I turn around, torn underwear in hand, to find him sitting up in bed. His cold blue-gray eyes bore into me, pupils still slightly elongated—clearly not fully recovered from last night's state.
"I should go," I quickly say, turning my back to him.
He turns away, his expression hardening. "Of course." He walks to the nightstand, takes out a stack of bills and places them on top. "This should be enough to pay for your... services."
I freeze, feeling like I've been slapped. "You think I'm... a prostitute?"
"Aren't you?" he counters, his tone suddenly ice-cold. "You were quite enthusiastic last night after learning who I am, and then there was the drugging incident..." He pauses, cold fury lacing his voice. "Not having you arrested is already an act of mercy on my part."
My face burns with anger. "I don't need your money! I just... couldn't fight you off!"
"Fight me off?" He raises an eyebrow, a cold smirk tugging at his lips. "Your behavior last night had absolutely nothing to do with resistance."
I quickly dress myself, fingers trembling with rage. Each movement makes me more acutely aware of how insane last night's encounter was. Shame and self-reproach tangle together, but what burns hotter is my fury at his entitled, arrogant attitude.
"What do you know, you arrogant, self-important werewolf!" I glare at him. "Not all humans covet your status and wealth!"
His eyes flash with a dangerous golden glint. "Watch your tongue, human. You don't know who you're talking to."
"Oh, I know exactly," I grab my purse fiercely, meeting his gaze. "You're just another pompous werewolf who thinks money can buy everything."
I push open the door and without looking back, I tell him: "The sad part is, you'll never know what real love feels like, because you think everyone who gets close to you has an ulterior motive."
I don't wait for his response, slamming the door shut as I leave.
Walking home, my anger gradually gives way to sadness and regret. Not just because of that arrogant werewolf, but because of my own impulsiveness and vulnerability. In just 24 hours, I lost a job opportunity, discovered my boyfriend's infidelity, and had a one-night stand with a stranger werewolf.
Even worse, there's now a strange sensation in my abdomen, as if something has been awakened.
Back at my apartment, I immediately strip off the dress reeking of his scent and throw it in the corner. I walk to my nearly empty refrigerator and pour the last bit of milk over a bowl of cheap cereal.
Damn werewolves, ruling everything, controlling everything. What do they take us humans for? I curse silently as tears well up in my eyes.
Just then, my old phone on the table rings. Seeing Erin's name on the display makes my blood boil. She was caught having sex with Byron, and she still has the nerve to call me?
I almost hang up, but curiosity gets the better of me—a masochistic need to hear what excuses this backstabbing woman might offer for her betrayal.
I hit the answer button and say coldly, "What do you want?"
She laughs, her voice sickeningly sweet and affected. "We used to be such good friends. Can't I just call to check in?"
Her voice makes me nauseous. This woman, once my best friend, now the architect of my betrayal. "Say what you need to say or I'm hanging up."
"Hey, don't be so hasty!" Her voice suddenly turns enthusiastic. "I heard you can't find work, so I wanted to hook you up with a great job."
I grip the phone tighter. "Since when are you so generous?" My tone drips with sarcasm.
"It's because of Byron," she admits shamelessly, victory evident in her voice. "After I give you this opportunity, you need to stay away from him for good."
Ah, so that's it. I laugh bitterly to myself. She doesn't want to help me—she wants me to disappear completely so she can have Byron all to herself. This naked calculation fills me with both rage and heartache.
"Hmph!" I scoff. "That kind of man isn't right for me anyway. He's perfect for you."
"Hahaha, so I'll take that as a yes," she replies, unfazed by my attempt to hurt her.
Before I can speak, Erin rattles off an address. "I worked hard to get this opportunity for you, considering you're just a lowly human!" Her tone turns venomous before quickly switching back to that sickly-sweet voice. "Oh my, look at me, accidentally saying what I really think. But anyway..."
Lowly human? So that's what she truly thought of me all along. Despite our years of friendship, in her heart, I was always just an inferior human, unworthy of respect or genuine friendship. This realization cuts like a knife to my heart.
"Don't worry," I shout angrily, "I don't want a man like Byron who can't keep his dick in his pants. Since you like him so much, he's all yours!"
I'm about to hang up when Erin's voice, laced with fury, comes through again. "In that case, I'll just offer this werewolf-level high-paying job to someone else..."
"Wait," my finger hovers over the end call button. High-paying job? The temptation is too great. I glance at my nearly empty fridge, thinking about the upcoming rent and the mountain of bills.
I hesitate, hating my weakness, but the reality is I desperately need work. "What kind of job?"
Erin laughs triumphantly. "That's more like it. A wealthy werewolf needs a tutor to look after his daughter. The salary is twice what a normal human gets. Interested?"
I bite my lip, conflicted. It sounds too good to be true. In Selene City, humans rarely get such high-paying positions, especially in werewolf households. But I'm also suspicious of Erin's motives—why would she help me? Is she really just trying to keep me away from Byron, or does she have something else in mind?
"Remember, don't be late," she says before hanging up.
I stare at my phone screen, my heart a battlefield of contradictions. On one hand, I hate accepting Erin's "charity," especially after she so clearly expressed her contempt for me. On the other hand, I desperately need this job, and it might be my only chance.
What should I do? I've never felt so lost.