Evander's POV
Her hand moved. Slow at first, then desperate. Fingers searching along the seat, brushing the seams, tapping for metal.
She was looking for the door handle.
My wolf growled immediately. If she jumps, I take over.
The words weren't a bluff this time. They hit like steel slamming shut. My chest tightened, my jaw clenched. He wasn't joking anymore.
I could handle disobedience. I could handle fear. But this?
This was stupid.
Jumping out at this speed meant instant death. She wouldn't get far. She'd hit the asphalt, break her neck, shatter bones, bleed out in seconds. A useless, pathetic death. She had no sense. No logic.
Stupid, I thought. But my wolf didn't agree. He rumbled louder, pacing inside the cage, his voice pressing harder. She's mine. If she dies, you die with her.
My teeth ground together. I forced my voice low, steady, sharp. "Odette."
She didn't listen.
Her blind eyes kept darting, her lips trembling, tears clinging to her lashes. She paid me no heed at all. My wolf pushed harder. Rage slid under my skin.
I hate disobedience. I hate when words mean nothing.
"Odette." This time my voice cracked like a whip, angrier, sharper.
It didn't calm her. It only made her hand move faster. The panic doubled, her breathing louder, frantic, filling the car. She was slipping deeper into fear, not out of it.
And then—she found it.
Her fingers curled around the handle.
She yanked.
The door flung open.
Cold wind punched inside. Papers flew. The roar of air drowned the silence. My temper snapped.
"Odette!" I shouted, the sound harsh enough to shake the car.
I caught her immediately, dragging her back in before she could fall, slamming the door shut with one brutal movement. The lock clicked. I shoved her against the seat, my hands gripping her shoulders tight, shaking her once, hard.
"What is wrong with you?" My voice thundered into her face. "Why can't you just sit still?"
She froze. Her wide, pale eyes snapped to mine though they saw nothing. Her lips parted. Her whole body trembled like a string pulled too tight.
We stayed locked like that for a moment, my breath heavy, her tears trembling but not falling yet.
Then I released her. My fingers slipped off her shoulders, leaving red marks. I ran a hand through my hair, dragging my palm down my face. My chest rose and fell.
This night was spiraling into chaos. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
She was supposed to be nobody.
I was supposed to kill her, burn her body, and be done.
So why the hell was she sitting in my car, alive, covered in my jacket, shaking and tearing me apart from the inside with emotions I had no use for?
My wolf whispered again, softer this time. Because she's mine.
I ignored him.
Her tears finally spilled. They slid down her cheeks, wetting her skin, falling fast. Her cloudy eyes darted, searching wildly, like maybe she could find me in the blur. Then her hands rose—hesitant, trembling—and touched me.
She traced my jawline clumsily, fingers moving up until they found my neck. And then she lunged forward and bit me.
Her teeth sank in, sharp for someone so delicate. Pain flared, hot and real. I gritted my teeth, jaw tightening.
I couldn't believe her. This little blind thing, biting me like she was some kind of wolf herself.
I said nothing. I didn't push her away.
The driver's eyes flicked to the mirror. "Boss—"
I raised my hand sharply. Don't.
She kept biting. Her teeth pressed harder. My skin stung. I let her.
Eventually, she pulled back. Her lips left my skin. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, hair sticking to her wet cheeks. And then she broke.
She cried—loud this time, sobs shaking her body. Her fists clenched and she began hitting me, punching me with everything she had, even if it wasn't much.
"You're a killer!" she screamed, each word breaking in half. Her fists thudded against my chest. "You're a monster! You killed my father!"
The words sliced, louder than any scream.
"You killed my people!" she shouted again. "I hate you! I hate you!"
Her fists kept pounding. Weak. Desperate. Real.
"How dare you hold me back!" she cried. "I will leave! I will leave!" Her voice cracked with the final words. "I would rather die than be with you!"
The last line landed like a blade.
I went still.
Something ugly twisted in me. Not anger alone. Not pain alone. Something worse. Something unfamiliar.
I didn't know why, but those words burned hotter than any insult I'd ever heard.
My wolf growled like thunder. You made her say it. This is your fault.
I shut him out.
I turned back to her, my gaze heavy, sharp, drowning in anger. She felt it—her blind eyes widened, her lips parted, her body stiffened as though she knew the danger was closing in.
I leaned closer, so close she could feel the heat of my breath. My hand snapped forward and gripped her neck, not enough to crush but enough to choke.
Air fled her throat. She gasped, her hands flying to my wrist, trying to pull me off.
Her silver-gray eyes locked on mine, trembling, lost.
"You die when I tell you to die," I growled, my voice low, deep, dangerous. "And you live because I let you live. You don't decide that."
Her eyes widened more. She clawed at my hand, desperate for breath, her face paling.
I stared, my anger eating at me, my wolf thrashing.
Then frustration cracked me open. I shoved her back into the seat and let go, my palm falling heavy to my side. She coughed, gasping for air.
I dragged my hand through my hair again, bending forward, my jaw locked, chest rising and falling.
This night was chaos.
I slammed my hand on the console. "Lock the doors," I ordered flatly.
The driver nodded, pressing the switch. The soft clicks of every door echoed in the silence.