Brutal Beast

The hall shimmered with elegant lights, crystal glinting beneath expensive chandeliers, waiters weaving through with glasses of champagne and polished smiles. Every eye turned when the doors opened, fashionably late.

And then she entered.

Narelle.

Not the humiliated she-wolf, not the ex-Luna silenced by the weight of the past. The woman walking into the hall now was something else entirely — refined, impenetrable, dangerous.

The petrol-blue wrap dress clung to her body as if it had been molded to her skin. A side slit revealed long, firm legs, and the satin fabric moved like it danced to the rhythm of her firm stride. Her shoulders were squared, her chin slightly raised. A satin-red lipstick marked her lips like a seal of power.

Kael was the first to react — na arched brow, the glass frozen halfway to his lips.

Rhaek, on the other hand, went completely still. Time seemed to sink around him. Sounds muffled. The music, the laughter, the toasts — all faded into distant noise at the sight of that she-wolf. His eyes tracked every step she took as though she were the epicenter of a silent earthquake.

“Who...” murmured Rhaek’s wife beside him, leaning in. “That woman... she looks strangely familiar.”

He said nothing.

Kael, smiling with practiced ease, whispered in his brother’s ear:

“Surprised? Yeah. Looks like the ex-Luna is now the new shareholder. And she didn’t come alone,” he added, nodding discreetly toward the two European investors accompanying her. “Seems like someone decided to play hardball.”

Rhaek clenched his fists.

Narelle greeted other board members as if she’d belonged to that world for decades. Her eyes, however, searched. They knew exactly where he stood.

When their eyes met, it was like a whip crack against glass walls. Neither looked away. There was no more fear, no more submission. There was war. And she had just made the first move.

[...]

The toasts continued, but Narelle had already done what she came to do. Every step in that hall had been calculated like a battlefield maneuver — and the damage was done. She felt the burning stares, the whispers spreading like wildfire. And above all, she sensed his scent. Rhaek.

She turned slowly, as if simply seeking fresh air, and walked toward the side exit of the hall. Her companions were held back by other investors, distracted by promises of future deals. She was alone now. And she wanted it that way.

Behind her, a few seconds away, Rhaek also broke away. He spoke to no one. Just walked like a restrained force, something primal beneath his skin.

The corridors of the headquarters were old, masked by renovations that couldn’t erase the memories etched into the walls. Narelle headed to a room she knew well — the old betas’ office. It had been converted into na executive waiting room, but it still carried the scent of aged wood and tense silence.

She entered.

The door shut right behind her.

His scent arrived before his voice.

“You had the nerve to show up,” said Rhaek, voice low and rough, something between anger and disbelief.

She turned slowly, as if evaluating something out of place.

“I didn’t come back, Rhaek. I rose. There’s a difference.”

The petrol-blue dress moved with her like a second skin, part storm, part challenge. He stepped forward.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am. With a name. With power. And with memories, in case you forgot.”

He stared at her, his eyes blazing.

“You were mine.”

Narelle smirked in disdain.

“I was your victim. Your possession. Your prey.” Her voice now a velvet-wrapped blade.

“You took advantage of a lone, isolated, defenseless she-wolf. You devoured me in the name of tradition, of ritual. And then discarded me like na inconvenient burden.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched.

“You don’t understand what I had to do to keep it all intact. The order. The clans. The treaties...”

“Don’t talk to me about order, Rhaek. You chose convenience. I chose survival.”

Silence dropped between them like a stone into a dark lake.

Then she stepped forward, closing the distance. Her eyes gleamed.

“Now decide who bleeds first .”

She passed him, her shoulder brushing his — like a wolf marking territory — and exited the room.

Rhaek stood frozen, alone, heart pounding like a war drum.

[...]

Rhaek left the room without a word. His face was tense, his gaze unfocused. He crossed the corridor in silence, moving through the hall as if every noise was drowned out by the pulse in his ears. The world around him felt irrelevant — investors, toasts, smiles — all dissolved in the scent and confrontation Narelle had left behind.

He found his wife laughing awkwardly with a group of council members. He touched her arm and murmured:

“Now.”

She frowned at his tone. She was about to protest, but his eyes didn’t allow it. She followed, uneasy with the firmness of the hand guiding her.

They entered the Alpha’s private office. He locked the door with a sharp click, didn’t wait for words. Grabbed her by the waist and shoved her roughly into the adjoining bathroom. The wood of the door trembled as it slammed shut with a kick.

She gasped, half frightened, half aroused. It wasn’t rare for him to take her brutally, but there was something different this time.

He tore her blouse without ceremony. His mouth didn’t seek pleasure — it sought dominance. His hands crushed her skin as if trying to erase a memory. The movements were rough, fast, merciless. When he entered her, it was not as a lover — but as a beast marking territory.

She moaned loudly, trying to keep up, but he didn’t see her.

Because in his mind, it wasn’t her who was there.

It was Narelle.

The petrol-blue dress dancing in shadows. The sharp voice, the threat of vengeance. The scent of freedom and ferocity.

He came with na animalistic grunt, head thrown back, claws dug into the ceramic of the sink. His wife slid to the floor, gasping, hair disheveled, legs trembling.

He stepped away, not looking at her. He breathed heavily, trying to extinguish the

fire of his own desire. But the image remained.

That cursed she-wolf. The one he could never tame

.