And again. And again.
“Fuck it.” I slip out of the car and slam the door shut behind me. “I’m shifting.”
As I speak, I reach for the button of my jeans and pop it open.
Emery has already undressed and shifted into his wolf form.
The change ripples over me instantly.
The air burns in my lungs, heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth. My fingertips throb, and then my nails lengthen into claws. I stumble forward, my legs folding, reshaping, and I drop to all fours. My spine arches with a sickening pop, causing pain to flare, and my jaw stretches.
In seconds, I’m a wolf.
Emery whines and throws his furry head in the direction of Ashton’s house.
Mate,my wolf growls, the need to get to her nearly overwhelming.
Mate,I agree.
Then, without another word, Emery and I take off into the woods.
Fifty
IZZY
Why am I not surprised that the asshole extraordinaire lives in a mansion?
I step out of the car, gravel crunching under my shoes as I stare up at the monstrosity Ashton calls home. It’s massive—cold, dark, and quiet. Every window looks like an obsidian eye, watching me.
I shouldn’t be here.
I told myself that a dozen times on the drive over, but something pulled me. As in, that damn tether between us I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try.
But I won’t beg for Ashton to want me. I won’t plead or cry or do any of the other things he may expect from a simpering female. That’s not me.
This is his last fucking chance. After this, I’m done. I’ll find a way to break the bond between us, even if it kills me.
I take in the mansion’s looming presence, the structure standing like a forgotten relic from another time. Its stone façade is dark, almost onyx in the fading light, with ivy creeping up in tendrils, as though trying to reclaim it. The windows—tall and narrow—are framed with old, tarnished metal, casting reflections of the star-sprinkled sky like shards of broken glass.
Unease creeps up my spine like a spider.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be here.
Bad decision, Izzy. Bad decision.
I climb the steps, surrounded on either side by stone pillars, and pause when I reach the front door. It’s…ajar.
My pulse skips.
“Ashton?” I call out, my voice low.
Is he even here?
The air shifts as I push the door open. It groans softly on its hinges. Inside, the foyer is still. Too still. Shadows stretch across the floor, long and sharp in the moonlight drifting through the window. The chandelier overhead sways just slightly, though there’s no breeze.
“Ashton, if this is one of your games, I swear to fuck?—”
A crash shatters the silence, the noise coming from upstairs.
