==Lila==
I stared at the mark on Remy's wrist. My teeth marks. Fresh. Red.
The kitchen went completely silent. Sylvie slid down the wall. Her eyes were huge with fear. The other girls backed away like I was contagious.
My wolf still surged under my skin. Power hummed in my veins. My soft curves felt electric. Alive in a way that scared me.
Remy looked at me. His chest rose fast. The partial bond pulsed between us. Hot. Unwanted. Real.
"Everyone out," he ordered. His voice was low. Dangerous.
They scattered. Sylvie was the last to go. She shot me one hateful glare before disappearing.
I stood there alone with him. Flour dusted the counter. Grease still smoked in the pan. My thigh burned from the splash but the pain felt distant now.
Remy stepped closer. His fingers brushed his wrist. "What did you do?"
"I didn't mean to," I whispered. My voice shook. "It just happened."
He did not answer right away. His eyes ran over me. My thick thighs. My rounded belly under the thin blanket. My heavy breasts rising with each breath.
The bond tugged at me. I hated it. I wanted to hit him and pull him close at the same time.
"Go to your room," he said finally. "Stay there."
I did not argue. My legs felt weak as I walked down the hall. The mark on my hip throbbed again. A reminder that nothing was normal anymore.
Night fell heavy. I could not sleep. Rage boiled inside me. At Remy. At the pack. At my own body that still reacted to him.
At 3 a.m. I slipped out of the bedroom. The house was quiet. I found the kitchen empty. Perfect.
I started baking. My hands moved on their own. Mixing dough for beignets. Rolling it out. The familiar motions calmed the storm a little. Flour coated my fingers. Sugar dusted my arms. The scent of vanilla and frying oil filled the air.
This was mine. The one thing that made me feel worthy. Not my curves. Not my wolf. Just the way people smiled when they tasted my work.
I worked harder. Kneading with fury. Punching the dough like it was Remy's chest. Tears mixed with the sweat on my face. My soft belly pressed against the counter edge. My full hips swayed as I moved.
The bond mark on Remy's wrist kept flashing in my mind. The way his skin had tasted. Copper and heat.
I hated how much I still wanted him.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
I froze. Turned slowly.
Remy stood in the doorway. Shirtless. Sweatpants low on his hips. Exhaustion carved lines on his face. His hair was messy like he had run his hands through it too many times.
He looked at the mess I had made. Counters covered in flour. Dough rising in bowls. Hot oil bubbling on the stove.
For one raw second his expression softened. His mouth opened like he might say something real. Like sorry.
"Lila..." he started. His voice was rough. Tired.
My heart jumped. I waited. Hoping. Stupidly.
Then his phone buzzed. He pulled it out. Read the message. His face changed. Hardened.
"Stay here," he ordered.
He left fast. I heard voices outside. Shouts. A scuffle.
I wiped my hands on a towel and crept to the window. Two pack warriors dragged a stranger into the yard. The man struggled. Blood trickled from his lip.
Remy walked out to meet them. Moonlight caught his bare shoulders.
They searched the stranger. Found something in his pocket. A photo.
Remy took it. Stared at it. His whole body went still.
I could not stay away. I slipped outside. The night air cooled my flour-dusted skin. My curves moved under the thin shirt I had found in the room.
Remy saw me coming. He did not stop me.
The photo showed me. Taken yesterday. Before the shift. I stood outside the bakery. Smiling. Unaware. Red circles marked my face and chest. A kill order written in bold letters at the bottom.
My stomach dropped.
Remy looked at the scout. "Who sent this?"
The man smirked through bloody teeth. "You know who. The ones who don't want her kind around."
Remy's hand tightened on the photo. He glanced at me. Something dark passed over his face.
He pulled a lighter from his pocket. Flicked it. Held the flame to the corner of the paper.
The photo burned. Flames ate my image. Ash floated away on the breeze.
The scout laughed weakly. "Burning it won't change anything. They'll send more."
Remy ignored him. He turned to me. His eyes met mine. Raw. Honest for the first time.
"They want you dead because of what you are," he said quietly. "And I rejected you to keep you alive."
The words hung between us. Heavy. True.
My knees felt weak. Flour still clung to my hands. The partial bond pulsed stronger now.
Remy stepped closer. His bare chest rose fast. Exhaustion mixed with something deeper.
But the scout's laugh echoed again. "Too late, Alpha. The word is already out."