Elara

"Let go," I said, wrenching my arm free from Serena's and turned to face her. "You slept with my fiance and now you're walking me down the aisle like some kind of benevolent sister. Do you have any idea how disgusting you are?"

Serena's smile faltered. Something flickered behind her eyes... Not guilt but surprise. She hadn't expected me to fight back.

She scoffed. "You can hate me all you want but that won't change the fact that you need us. Without Margaret's money, your little friend in the hospital is dead. So walk down that aisle, keep your mouth shut and do what you are told."

I didn't get a chance to answer as the doors swung up. The light of the chandeliers flooded the hallway and the members turned as one to watch me.

I thought about Rachel. I thought about the one year of hell I was about to endure and I told myself it was worth it. It had to be worth it.

I stepped forward.

The aisle stretched forward before me. Guests smiled and whispered and at the altar stood Damian in his tailored black suit, eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction.

He looked like a prince.

He was a monster.

I reached the altar and stood across from him. Serena released my arm and took her place in the front row beside Margaret, who was already dabbing at her dry eyes with a handkerchief.

Damian leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "You look beautiful, darling. Pity it won't last."

"Pity you're a cheater who can't keep his pants up for one day.”

His smile dropped. "What did you say?"

I didn't answer.

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Damian Thorne and Elara Vance. If anyone has just cause why these people should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

For one wild, reckless moment, I imagine myself speaking. I imagined pointing at Serena in the front row and shouting the truth for everyone to hear.

But the words died in my throat.

The elder turned to me. "Elara Vance, do you take Damian Thorne to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, in sickness and health, until death do you part?"

The silence stretched. I felt the seconds ticking by.

My lips parted but no sound came out.

"Elara?"

"Yes, I do," I forced out.

Damian smiled and put the ring into my finger. The events continued and the more I stayed. The more I felt like I was drowning.

"I need to use the restroom," I blurted out.

Before anyone could stop me, I gathered my dress and fled down the aisle.

I found the nearest restroom, locked myself in a stall, and collapsed against the door.

The sobs came then. I had just married a man who was sleeping with my stepsister. I had just signed away a year of my life for the chance to save Rachel. And I had no idea if I was strong enough to survive it.

I pushed myself up and stumbled to the sink. Cold water splashed against my face, washing away the mascara that had started to run. I gripped the porcelain edge and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

The woman staring back at me was a stranger. A sound from the hallway made me freeze.

"...can't believe you did that," That was Margaret. She hissed. "In public. Do you have any idea how many people saw you, Serena?"

"Mother, relax. It's fine. Damian doesn't care. He got what he wanted."

I pressed myself against the wall of the stall and held my breath.

"You were supposed to keep her calm, not antagonize her," Margaret snapped. "She was already suspicious. Now she knows about the trust fund. If she runs..."

"She won't run."

Then Margaret's voice, lower now. "The friend is irrelevant. Once Damian has her committed, the hospital bills won't matter anyway. She'll be in the institution within the month, medicated and compliant. No one will ever hear from her again."

I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle the scream building in my throat.

"The institution?" Serena sounded surprised. "I thought that wasn't happening until after the year was up."

"Circumstances have changed."

Was this their plan? There was no deal. There was no one year. There was only a cold, sterile institution where they would lock me away and pump me full of drugs until I forgot my own name.

Rachel would die anyway. And I would die too. Just slower. Just crueler.

But not today.

I burst out of the stall, shoved the restroom door open, and ran.

"Elara!" I heard them call. I didn't stop. I ran until my lungs burned and my legs screamed and my dress tore against the sharp edges of the garden gate.

Margaret and Selena chased behind me. I didn't look back.

I reached the fence and scrambled over it, ripping my dress and scraping my palms on the jagged iron. I landed hard on the other side and kept running, my bare feet... I had kicked off the heels somewhere in the garden...sinking into the wet grass.

The rain started to pour. I quickened my pace. I couldn't hear them behind me again.

I heard the motorcycle before I saw it. The roar of the engine cutting through the storm.

I turned. I stumbled. I tried to run... The impact was violent and pain exploded through my body as the motorcycle clipped my side, sending me flying sideways across the wet asphalt.

I landed hard, my head cracking against the ground, my vision swimming with black spots and the flash of lightning.

Above me, the rain continued to fall. The motorcycle skidded to a stop, and I heard voices. It sounded like male. Two voices.

"Fuck, I hit her."

"Check if she's breathing."

"Is she..."

A face appeared above me. Dark eyes, shaved head, rain streaming down his tattooed cheeks. He was massive and terrifying and looming over me like a demon from the storm.

"Stay with me," he growled. "Don't you fucking die on me, you hear?"

Elara

I woke to the sound of beeping. Pain exploded through my left leg the moment I tried to move.

I gasped, my hands flying down to clutch at the heavy bandages wrapped around my thigh. The memory crashed over me slowly... rain, headlights, the sickening crunch of metal against bone.

"You're awake," a voice said beside me. I jerked my head to the side and found him sitting in the plastic chair beside my bed, his massive frame somehow folded into the tiny space. Shaved head. A broken nose that had healed crooked. Tattoos crawled up his arms and disappeared beneath the collar of his leather cut.

"Who..." My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. "Who are you?"

"Name's Jax." He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Fury, to the brothers. I'm the one who hit you."

My blood ran cold. "You hit me. You hit me with your motorcycle."

"T'was an accident." His jaw tightened. "You ran out of the dark. I swerved, but I couldn't miss you completely. The doc says you got a fractured leg, a concussion, and some nasty road rash. You'll heal."

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. The bruises on his knuckles told me he was a man who used his fists. The patch on his cut read Sergeant-at-Arms. The words meant nothing to me, but the weight behind them felt like a threat.

"I have to leave," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "They'll find me."

"Who'll find you?" Jax studied me for a long moment, his brow furrowed. But before I could respond, the door to my room burst open.

A uniformed man filled the doorway. The Sheriff. Thick mustache. Hands resting on his belt like he was reaching for something.

"Miss Vance," he announced. "I need to take your statement regarding the accident. Protocol requires..."

"She's not giving any statement."

Jax rose from his chair, and suddenly the room felt half its size. The sheriff's hand drifted closer to his holster.

"Step aside, Mr. Maddox. This is official police business."

"She's a minor."

"I'm twenty-four," I blurted out.

Neither man looked at me.

"She's under my club's protection," Jax said flatly. "You want her statement, you come through me. And you don't want to come through me."

The sheriff's face reddened. "You can't just..."

"I can. I am. Get out."

The stare down felt like it lasted for an eternity. Then the sheriff muttered something under his breath, spun on his heel, and stalked out of the room. The door slammed behind him.

I was already moving.

The moment the sheriff left, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Pain lanced through my fractured leg, white-hot and blinding, but I bit down on the scream that tried to claw its way out of my throat.

I took one step. Then another. My leg buckled beneath me, and I grabbed the IV stand to keep from collapsing.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Jax was on me in two strides, his massive hand clamping down on my arm. I tried to jerk free, but his grip was firm.

"Let go of me!" I thrashed, my free hand slapping uselessly against his chest. "You don't understand. They'll find me. They'll lock me away and I'll never get out and Rachel will die and..."

I was sobbing now, the words tumbling out in a broken rush. Jax didn't let go. He just stood there, holding me upright, his expression unreadable.

"Stop," he said quietly. "Stop fighting. You'll hurt yourself worse."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do."

The door opened again. This time, a new man stepped through... taller than Jax, broader, with salt-and-pepper stubble and ice-blue eyes that pinned me to the spot. His cut read President. His presence filled the room in a way that made Jax seem almost small.

Behind him, two more men slipped through the door. One lean and hawkish, with golden-brown eyes...the other lithe and angular, with silver-gray eyes.

Four of them. Four bikers. And every single one of them was staring at me like I was the answer to a question they hadn't known they were asking.

The eldest stepped forward. I didn't know his name yet, but I could feel it in my bones...this was the Alpha. The one who made the rules.

"Release her," he said to Jax.

"Kade..." Jax started to say but his grip loosened immediately. I stumbled back, my broken leg screaming in protest, and collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

Kade circled me slowly, his ice-blue eyes never leaving my face. He leaned in close, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. I flinched, expecting violence... expecting everything I had ever known from men in power.

Instead, his eyes flickered gold.

I froze.

"What..." My voice died in my throat.

Kade straightened. His jaw tightened.

"What are you?" he said. "Your scent... it's faint... You're a shifter. A latent one."

I shook my head. "That's impossible. I'm an omega. I can't shift. I've never..."

"You've been suppressed." Kade replied. "Someone blocked your wolf. But the scent is unmistakable. You're one of us. Pack property. Under our sacred laws, you fall under my protection."

Pack property. The words made my stomach lurch. I had escaped one cage only to be shoved into another.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No. I don't belong to anyone. I don't belong to any pack. I'm not..."

He cut me off.

"You have two choices. Stay here and wait for whoever is hunting you to find you. Or come with us to the clubhouse. You'll be protected there."

Jax stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "She can't walk, Prez. Leg's busted."

"Then carry her."

Before I could protest, Jax scooped me into his arms like I weighed nothing. My broken leg screamed, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out.

"Put me down!"

"Not a chance, princess." Jax's voice was rough but not unkind. "You're coming with us whether you like it or not."

Elara

"Sir, you cannot remove this patient!" A nurse with auburn hair blocked our path, her clipboard clutched to her chest. "She still needs medical supervision. The doctor hasn't discharged her..."

"She's being discharged now." Kade's voice was flat, leaving room for no argument. "Move."

"I can't. If you take her against medical advice, we'll have to call security. The sheriff is still..."

"The sheriff is gone." Ryker stepped forward. "And if you call security, I'll make sure every single one of them regrets it."

The nurse's face went pale. She opened her mouth to argue, but Dante was already moving past her, his silver-gray eyes scanning the hallway. His hand rested casually on the handle of a blade tucked into his belt...visible enough to intimidate.

I already learned the other bikers name… Dante was the one with silver gray eyes and Ryker was the one with golden-brown eyes.

"Let's go," Kade ordered. "Now."

Jax tightened his grip on me and strode forward. The nurse scrambled out of the way, her protests dying in her throat. I could feel the other patients staring from their rooms, the weight of a hundred eyes watching us leave.

I should have been grateful. I should have been relieved.

Instead, I just felt terrified.

The parking lot was cold and dark when we emerged. A row of motorcycles gleamed under the overhang.

Jax set me down on the back of the largest bike. The leather seat was worn and soft. My broken leg screamed in protest, but I bit down on the pain and gripped the handle behind me.

"Hold on," Jax growled, swinging onto the bike in front of me. "Tight."

Before I could respond, the engine roared to life. The vibration rumbled through my chest, through my bones, through every nerve ending in my body.

Jax's massive frame blocked the wind as he twisted the throttle, and the bike lurched forward.

The other three bikes fell into formation around us. Kade on my right, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the road ahead. Ryker on my left and Dante bringing up the rear.

I pressed my cheek against Jax's back, feeling the heat of his body through the leather cut, and tried not to think about the fact that I had just been kidnapped by four bikers who claimed I was some kind of werewolf.

It was impossible. It was insane. It was... But Kade's eyes had flickered gold. I had seen it. And when Jax had carried me through the hospital, I had caught the faintest scent on his skin... like pine and something else. Something that made my stomach flutter in a way I didn't understand.

We reached the clubhouse an hour later.

The compound was massive. The main building was a two-story structure with a wraparound porch and a garage that could have housed a dozen bikes.

Jax killed the engine and swung off the bike. Before I could protest, he lifted me into his arms again, cradling me against his chest like I weighed nothing.

"I can walk," I muttered.

"Like hell you can. Your leg's busted."

"I've walked on worse."

Jax snorted. "Yeah? When?"

I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk about the time Margaret had locked me out of the house in the middle of winter and I'd had to walk three miles through the snow to find shelter. I didn't want to talk about any of it.

He carried me through the front door, and the clubhouse swallowed me whole.

The noise was overwhelming. Music blared from a jukebox in the corner. Men in leather cuts clustered around pool tables and bar stools, drinking beer and laughing. Women draped themselves over laps and leaned against walls.

Every single head turned when we entered.

A tall woman with platinum hair and amber eyes stepped forward. "Jax, what the hell is this? You brought a stray home?"

"Back off, Candy." Jax growled. "She's under pack protection."

Candy's eyes narrowed. "Pack protection? Since when does the President..."

"I gave the order."

Kade stepped up beside us, his presence silencing the room. His eyes swept over the crowd, and one by one, the club members looked away. Even Candy dropped her gaze, her red lips pressing into a thin line of frustration.

"Put her in the back room," Kade ordered Jax. "Second floor. The one with the lock."

Jax didn't argue. He carried me through the crowd, up a narrow staircase, and down a hallway lined with closed doors. The room at the end was small but clean, with a bed, a nightstand, and a window.

He set me down on the bed carefully, his hands lingering on my shoulders longer than necessary.

"Stay put," he said. "Don't try to run. You won't make it."

"I won't run," I lied.

Jax studied me for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then he turned and walked out, pulling the door shut behind him.

I sat there in the silence, my heart pounding and my leg throbbing and my mind racing. The room was warm. The bed was soft. But all I could think about was the look on Jax's face when he had carried me through the clubhouse. The way his nostrils had flared when he caught my scent. The way his hands had tightened on my body when Dante had brushed past us.

The way all four of them had looked at me like I was something precious.

The door burst open hours later.

Kade filled the frame, his face carved from stone. Behind him, Ryker, Jax, and Dante crowded the hallway, their expressions grim.

"We've got a problem," Kade said flatly. "Your husband is here. At the gate."

My blood turned to ice.

"Damian? He found me? How?"

Ryker shrugged. "The sheriff must have tipped him off. He's demanding we hand you over."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could form the words, a voice echoed up from the main floor below.

"Where is my wife? I know she's in there. Bring her out, or I'll have every one of you arrested!"