Irina’s POV

His breath.

God, his breath against my neck sent fire racing down my spine.

Hot. Too hot. Like standing too close to an open flame.

My body reacted before my brain could catch up. Heat flooded through me—starting where his hand gripped my waist and spreading outward in waves that made my skin feel too tight.

The mate bond hummed between us. Insistent. Demanding.

*Closer,* it whispered. *He’s ours. We need him closer.*

No. No, I didn’t want this. Didn’t want to feel anything.

But my body didn’t care what I wanted.

My skin burned where he touched me. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat. Every nerve ending lit up like someone had poured gasoline on them and struck a match.

I tried to pull away. To put distance between us.

His grip tightened. Not painful. Just... firm. Unyielding.

Keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

"Did he touch you here?" His voice was rough against my ear. Low. Dangerous.

His fingers traced along my neck. Found the mark he’d left on me.

The sensation shot through me like lightning. My body jerked involuntarily.

Not from pleasure. From the wrongness of it all.

Because yes. Yes, Maxim had touched me there. Had licked and lapped at that exact spot like he could erase Nicolas’s claim through sheer persistence.

The memory crashed over me.

Maxim’s tongue on my mark. His hand between my legs. His breath hot against my skin.

My stomach turned.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Tried to block it out.

But closing my eyes only made it worse.

Because then I saw Maxim’s face. Clear as day. That smile. Those eyes that looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was a toy he could break and discard.

I felt his hands again. Rough. Demanding. Taking what he wanted without asking.

My body started trembling. Violent shakes that I couldn’t control.

"Stop," I whispered.

Nicolas’s hand on my waist slid higher. His thumb brushed the underside of my breast through the thin shirt.

My breath caught.

The touch was possessive. Claiming. His scent wrapped around me—pine and smoke and something darker that made my wolf whimper inside my head.

But all I could feel was wrong. Dirty. Contaminated.

Maxim had touched me. Had put his hands on my body. Had violated me.

And now Nicolas was touching me too.

Different touch. Different intent.

But my body couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

I flinched. Hard.

Nicolas went still.

"Look at me."

It wasn’t a request. It was an order.

My eyes stayed closed. I couldn’t. Couldn’t look at him.

Couldn’t see the disgust that would be there when he realized what I was. What Maxim had done to me.

His hand left my waist.

Relief flooded through me for half a second.

Then his fingers closed around my chin.

Hard. Demanding.

He forced my head to turn. Made me face him.

"I said look at me."

I opened my eyes.

His face was inches from mine. So close I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. Could count his eyelashes if I wanted to.

But his expression—

God, his expression.

Rage. Pure, absolute fury burned in those eyes. His jaw was clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek.

He was angry. So angry.

At me.

Because of what happened. Because Maxim had touched me. Because I’d let him—

No. I hadn’t let him. Hadn’t wanted it.

But Nicolas didn’t know that. Didn’t believe it.

He thought I was willing. That I’d enjoyed it.

That I was exactly what the rumors said I was.

My throat closed up. I couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe.

"You’re trembling," Nicolas said. His voice was flat. Cold. "Why?"

I tried to look away. His grip on my chin tightened, keeping me facing him.

"Answer me."

"I—" The word came out broken. "I don’t—"

"You don’t what?" His eyes bore into mine. "Don’t like being touched by me?"

His thumb brushed across my lower lip. The gesture should have been gentle. Intimate.

Instead it felt like a brand. Marking me. Claiming me.

Making me his.

But I was already ruined. Already broken. Already contaminated by someone else’s hands.

My eyes burned. Tears threatened to spill over.

"Is that it?" Nicolas leaned closer. His mouth was right next to my ear now. "You prefer him? Prefer Maxim?"

"No!" The word burst out before I could stop it. "No, please—"

"Please what?" His breath was hot against my neck. Against the mark. "Please don’t touch you? Don’t claim what’s mine?"

His hand slid from my chin down to my throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there. His palm was so warm against my skin.

But all I could think about was Maxim’s hand in the same place. Choking me. Cutting off my air.

I started shaking harder.

"Stop," I whispered. "Please stop."

"Why?" His voice dropped lower. Darker. "You weren’t telling him to stop."

The accusation hit like a fist to the gut.

He thought—

He actually thought I’d wanted it. That I’d enjoyed what Maxim did. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Fresh horror flooded through me. Made my skin crawl.

My vision blurred. Tears spilled over, tracking down my cheeks.

I closed my eyes again. Tried to block out his face. His anger. His disgust.

But the darkness only made everything worse.

Because behind my eyelids, I saw Maxim.

His face. His smile. His hands on my body.

My stomach heaved. Bile rose in my throat.

I hated my body. Hated it for responding. For trembling. For feeling anything at all.

Hated it for being weak. For being used. For being dirty.

I wanted to tear my own skin off. Wanted to scrub away every trace of Maxim’s touch until I bled.

But I couldn’t.

Couldn’t escape my own body. Couldn’t escape what had been done to it.

My eyebrows drew together. Furrowed with disgust and shame and self-loathing so deep it felt like drowning.

"Open your eyes," Nicolas ordered.

I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see his face. Didn’t want to see the confirmation that I was exactly what everyone said I was.

Dirty. Used. Worthless.

But his hand on my throat tightened. Just a fraction.

My eyes flew open.

He was staring at me. Those green eyes burning with something I couldn’t name.

Not quite anger anymore. Something else. Something worse.

His other hand grabbed my shoulder. Spun me around.

My back hit his chest. His arm wrapped around my waist, pinning me against him.

Just like Maxim had done.

Panic exploded through me.

"No!" I thrashed. Tried to break free. "Please, no—"

"So you are unwilling." His voice was ice. "With me, at least."

He held me effortlessly. Like I weighed nothing.

His mouth found my neck again. Found the mark.

And bit down.

Not hard enough to break skin. Just enough to send pain shooting through the bond.

I cried out. Couldn’t help it.

My body went rigid. Every muscle locking up at once.

"This is mine," he growled against my skin. "Mine. Not his. Do you understand?"

I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think past the pain and fear and overwhelming wrongness of it all.

His teeth released the mark. His tongue traced over it. Soothing. Claiming.

"You’re mine," he repeated. "My mate. My property. Mine to touch whenever I want."

His hand slid down from my waist. Lower.

No. God, no. Not again. Not—

"You just let him touch you!" Nicolas’s voice exploded against my ear. Furious. Wounded. "Let him put his hands on what belongs to me!"

"You just can’t stand being touched by me, is that it?" He forced me to turn my head. Made me look at him over my shoulder. "Can’t stand your own mate?"

His eyes were black again. Completely black.

Terror froze my lungs.

"You were enjoying it with him, weren’t you?" His lips pulled back from his teeth. "With Maxim. You loved every second of it."

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t—

The pain was blinding. White-hot and all-consuming.

My eyes rolled back.

The last thing I heard was his voice. Still angry. Still accusing.

Then darkness swallowed me whole.