Chapter 119
The day had been heavy from the start. The air in the packhouse carried a palpable tension, as if the walls themselves were mourning. Even the twins seemed subdued, their usual giggles replaced by soft coos as I played with them in the nursery.
I had overheard Sophie earlier, speaking in hushed tones to Chris about the approaching anniversary of Priscilla’s death. That explained Jake’s mood—or, more accurately, the storm cloud hovering over him.
I hated how his pain bled into everyone else’s lives, turning the warm packhouse into a place of icy silence. I couldn’t fix his grief, but I could try to lift the pack’s spirits, if only for a moment.
So I busied myself in the kitchen, deciding to cook a feast for everyone.
\---
The dining table was a masterpiece by the time I was done. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, and a rich berry tart sat in the center of the table. The twins were in their high chairs, babbling excitedly, and Sophie gave me a warm smile as she took her seat.
“This looks amazing, Ayla,” she said, squeezing my hand.
“It’s nothing,” I replied, trying to downplay it. “I just thought... maybe we could all use a good meal.”
Jake entered then, his presence a cold wind sweeping through the room. He glanced at the table, his face unreadable, before taking his seat at the head.
“Jake,” Sophie started, “doesn’t this look great?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he sat stiffly as I served everyone, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance.
I placed a plate in front of him last, feeling my heart beat a little faster. Despite everything, I wanted him to acknowledge my effort.
But when everyone began eating, he didn’t touch his food. He sat for a moment longer, then abruptly stood and walked out of the room without a word.
\---
Anger bubbled up inside me as I stared at his untouched plate.
“Excuse me,” I said, my voice tight as I rose from the table.
Sophie called after me, but I didn’t stop. I marched through the house, following the faint sound of footsteps to his office. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking.
Jake was standing by the window, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t even turn to look at me when I entered.
“You didn’t even try the food,” I said, my voice shaking with frustration.
“I wasn’t hungry,” he replied coldly, taking a sip of his drink.
“That’s not the point!” I snapped, stepping further into the room. “You could’ve at least pretended, for the twins’ sake. Do you know how excited they were to sit at the table with you?”
He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Don’t tell me how to handle my children,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“They’re not just your children,” I retorted. “They’re part of this pack, and they deserve better than—”
Before I could finish, he crossed the room in a flash, his hand wrapping around my throat and cutting off my words.
“You’re forgetting your place,” he growled, his face inches from mine.
I clawed at his wrist, my heart hammering in my chest. “Let... me... go,” I gasped.
Jake’s grip tightened for a moment, his eyes blazing with fury. Then he shoved me backward, and I stumbled to the floor, landing hard.
“Don’t ever question me again,” he said, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. I stared up at him, my chest heaving as the sting of his words and actions sank in.
The door burst open, and Sophie stormed in.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger.
Jake turned to her, his expression unreadable, but before he could say a word, Sophie slapped him. Hard.
“You don’t treat a woman like that,” she said, her voice shaking. “Ever.”
For a moment, Jake just stood there, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists. His gaze flicked to me, and I saw something there—regret, maybe—but he said nothing. Instead, he turned and walked out, leaving the room in tense silence.
Sophie rushed to my side, helping me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
I nodded, but my throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill over. “I just... I need to be alone.”
\---
Back in my room, the tears finally came.
It wasn’t just the pain of being thrown to the floor. It was the way he had looked at me, like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.
I sat on the edge of my bed, my chest aching, when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw a message from Adam.
**“Still on for tonight?”**
For a moment, I hesitated. But then I thought about Jake—about his coldness, his anger, and the way he had made me feel like less than nothing.
I texted back a single word: **“Yes.”**
\---
When I arrived at the club, Adam’s eyes widened as he took in my outfit.
“Wow,” he said, letting out a low whistle. “You clean up nice, Luna.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He grinned, offering me a drink. “Alright, Ayla. Let’s have some fun.”
And fun we had.
I drank more than I intended, the alcohol dulling the ache in my chest. Adam was charming and funny, and before I knew it, we were dancing, laughing, and leaning closer than we probably should have been.
When he kissed me, I didn’t stop him.
It wasn’t the heated, consuming kind of kiss I had imagined with Jake. It was softer, lighter, but still enough to make my head spin.
We ended up in the club’s bathroom, the music pounding through the walls as we kissed against the sink. His hands were gentle, never pushing for more than I was willing to give.
“You’re drunk,” he said eventually, pulling back and brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Let’s get you some water.”
\---
By the time I got home, I was mostly sober, but my head still buzzed from the night. I slipped inside quietly, not wanting to wake anyone, but I froze when I saw Jake sitting in the kitchen.
He was nursing a bottle of whiskey, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair disheveled. His dark eyes locked onto mine as I entered, and a smirk curved his lips.
“So,” he drawled, his voice dangerously low. “You’ve been with him again.”
My stomach twisted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to walk past him.
But in a flash, he was in front of me, blocking my path.
“You smell like him,” he growled, his voice more animal than human.
“Move,” I said, my voice shaking.
He didn’t. Instead, he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me onto the counter, his body pressing against mine.
“Do you think I don’t notice, Ayla?” he hissed, his eyes dark and dangerous.
“Jake—”
His lips crashed against mine, cutting off my words.
The kiss was nothing like Adam’s. It was fierce and consuming, leaving no room for thought or hesitation. Sparks exploded across my skin, my wolf howling in approval as I clung to him.
Jake’s hands roamed my body, his touch both possessive and gentle as he ripped the thin straps of my dress away. He held my thighs and pulled me closer I could feel how hard he was. I moaned as I grinded on him, and he sucked my nipples making me grab his large arms.
“Mine,” he growled against my neck, his voice rough with need.
I gasped, trying to push him away, but it was useless. His teeth sank into my neck, marking me, and my scream was swallowed by the overwhelming rush of sensation.
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