After His Luna Poisoned Him, He Believed I Betrayed Him

The door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Nolan stood there, his eyes blazing with fury as he took in the scene—Kylie's tears, the wine stain spreading across the ceremonial robe, the torn silk.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice deadly quiet.

Kylie sobbed dramatically. "She attacked me! Out of jealousy, she—she deliberately made me spill wine on my robe!"

I stood frozen, my mind racing. "That's not true. She did it to herself."

Nolan didn't even look at me. His hand shot out, grabbing me by the throat. He slammed me against the wall, lifting me until my feet barely touched the floor.

"Jane," he growled, my name a curse on his lips. "What have you done?"

His claws dug into my skin, drawing blood. I could smell it—copper and salt—as it trickled down my neck.

"Please," I gasped, struggling to breathe. "I didn't—"

"Silence!" His grip tightened. "You dare touch my Luna? You dare?"

Black spots danced before my eyes as his fingers pressed against my windpipe.

"If you ever touch my Luna again," he hissed, his face inches from mine, "I will kill you."

He released me suddenly, and I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air.

"The robe costs twenty thousand dollars," he said coldly. "I'll deduct it from your wages."

My heart sank. Twenty thousand—that would wipe out everything I'd earned so far. Gordon's surgery...

---

"To make up for your... mistake," Nolan announced two days later, "you'll oversee the catering for our weekend run in the Hamptons."

I nodded numbly, still feeling the phantom pressure of his fingers around my throat.

"The pack leaves tomorrow morning," he continued, his eyes glittering with malice. "You'll need to be there early to prepare."

"I'll drive up after work," I said.

"No." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "No vehicles are allowed on the estate grounds. You'll need to take public transportation."

I blinked in surprise. The nearest bus stop was five miles from the estate.

"And," he added, "you'll need to bring the supplies yourself. No pack transport for you."

---

The bus dropped me at the dusty roadside just as the sun began to set. I hoisted the heavy bag of catering supplies onto my shoulder and started walking.

Five miles had never felt so far.

By the time I reached the estate gates, my shoes were caked with mud, and my arms ached from the weight of the supplies.

"Jane Ellis," the guard said with surprise. "Alpha didn't mention you'd be walking."

He escorted me to the service entrance, where I dropped my bags with relief.

---

The next morning dawned bright and clear—perfect for the pack run.

"Since you can't shift," Nolan announced to the gathered pack members, "you'll serve as a hare for the younger wolves to track."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"They won't hurt you," he assured me, his voice dripping with false concern. "Just chase you until they catch you."

The young wolves grinned eagerly, their eyes already shifting to gold.

I stood at the edge of the forest in my human form, wearing jeans and a light sweater that would offer no protection against the elements.

"Begin!" Nolan commanded.

I ran.

The forest floor was treacherous—roots snagged at my feet, branches whipped against my face. Behind me, I could hear the excited yips of the young wolves as they tracked me.

My sweater tore on a bramble. My jeans ripped as I stumbled over a fallen log. Blood trickled down my arm where a branch had scraped it raw.

From a ridge above, I caught a glimpse of Nolan watching me. His massive black wolf form stood motionless, observing my struggle with those piercing blue eyes.

Something strange happened then—his wolf whined, a low sound of distress that echoed through the clearing.

For a moment, our eyes met across the distance. I saw conflict there—his wolf wanting to protect me, while Nolan suppressed the instinct.

---

Night fell, and the pack gathered in the main lodge for their feast. I sat outside by the service entrance, cleaning the scrapes on my legs with cold water from a garden hose.

My hands trembled as I dabbed at the wounds. Each breath still hurt from where I'd been running all day.

"Here."

I jumped at the voice. Beta Marcus Thompson stood before me, holding out a first aid kit and a plate of food.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

He looked uncomfortable. "You need it."

I flinched away from his outstretched hand. "What's the price?"

"No price," he said quietly. "I just..."

From the window above, I felt Nolan's gaze burning into us. His chest tightened as he watched Marcus offering me aid—and my fear of accepting it.

A strange, sharp pain lanced through him, and he pressed his hand against his chest, frowning.

"What are you doing, Marcus?" he called sharply.

Marcus straightened. "Just checking on the catering staff, Alpha."

As he walked away, I caught a glimpse of something in Nolan's eyes—something that looked almost like regret. But it vanished so quickly I must have imagined it.

After all, men like Nolan Davis didn't regret anything. Especially not when it came to women who'd rejected them.

Or so I thought.