ELIJAH'S POV
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Mariah spoke the truth. The words burned in my throat, and for one fleeting second I prayed Diana wouldn't see the war behind my eyes. But it was too late.
Hulk had died years ago in battle against our enemies—my beta, my best friend. His death made a replacement necessary, and Mariah was the strongest choice.
I searched Diana's hazel eyes, desperate for a reaction, anything to show how she took the news. But there was nothing. Just blankness. The emptiness in her gaze cut deeper than any blade, because I couldn't tell what she was thinking.
Damn it.
"That was unexpected, but not shocking," she said, her lips curving faintly.
Mariah huffed, striding toward me. She tried to take my hand, but this time I pushed her away. Ignoring her frown, my eyes locked on Diana.
"Can we talk?" I forced the words out. "In private?"
Diana tilted her head. "We have nothing to talk about."
"Please." The frustration ripped from my chest in a roar. Couldn't she see? Couldn't she put the past behind us and see that I had changed?
She shook her head and turned away. But I couldn't let her go. My wolf wouldn't let me. It roared inside me, driving me forward. In an instant, I grabbed her hand and pulled her hard against my chest.
Her rose scent slammed into me. I ignored her gasp, burying myself in it, inhaling her hair, her skin. Damn. I was falling. I wanted her near me, wanted to trace every inch of her skin.
Just as my head ran wild with thoughts of her, a sharp sting cracked across my face. The slap burned my skin.
I staggered back in shock, staring at Diana. Her chest rose and fell, her hand still raised. Did she just slap me?
"Don't you dare," she hissed, her breath ragged. Hatred blazed in her eyes, and I knew I was done for. But I refused to let it stop me. I stepped forward—only for Mariah to grab my hand.
"Elijah, people are watching," she warned.
I shook her off. Only then did I remember—we were at a wedding. Everyone's eyes were on us. But I didn't care. I'd lose my mind if I let Diana slip away.
"Damn you all!" I roared, surging forward. I seized Diana's hand. She struggled, but I was stronger, and I dragged her away before the tension inside could explode further.
The night wind lashed against me, tousling my hair. The half-moon poured silver light over the wet pavement and the sleek line of cars parked in the hotel courtyard. I pulled her toward the far end, where the trees stood like a shadowed maze.
Diana thrashed in my hold, pounding at my arms, clawing at my back, fighting to break free. But I didn't let her go.
When I finally dragged her deep into the maze of tall trees, I released her at the center where a long wooden bench stood.
She panted hard, eyes wide in disbelief, lips parted.
"Elijah Thorn, what the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, crossing her arms.
"You," I said, breath uneven. "My goddess."
Her eyes shut tight, as if the word itself pierced her. "Don't you dare call me that."
I stepped forward. She stepped back. But I didn't stop until her back pressed against the tree behind her. Her chest rose and fell, lips trembling, pressed into a line.
I moved closer, until our breaths mingled—hers quick and shallow, mine ragged and uneven. My fists clenched behind me, the only thing keeping me from reaching out.
"Does it affect you," I murmured, "when I call you that?"
She said nothing, looking anywhere but at me. Yet I saw it—the flicker in her gaze, the way her body betrayed her. Hope burned in my chest.
So I did the one thing that had haunted me since the moment she walked through that door.
My hands shook, but I lifted them anyway, placing them gently on her neck. The instant I touched her, she stiffened. My wolf roared inside me, a feral demand to claim her, to end this torment.
We had fought this battle in our souls for years. If not for the Alpha blood coursing through my veins, I would have lost to him long ago. I would have gone completely mad.
Never again. I never want to go on without her—without touching her, without having her by my side.
"I miss you." My hand slid across her neck, and every brush of skin sent a jolt of sensation down to the heavy ache between my legs. A low growl rumbled out of me as a soft moan slipped past her lips. She probably didn't even realize she made that sound.
"You cannot be claimed by another man, Diana. He can't.." My breathing was harsh, unsteady, as I leaned closer, inhaling more of her. "Only I should claim you."
Diana let out a low laugh, turning her face toward me, her eyes glinting with a dangerous spark. "Damn you, Elijah," she whispered, her voice a blade to my chest. "You lost me when you denied me."
"But you are mine," I said shakily, my voice almost breaking. "You feel the bond. I know you do."
Her heart thundered in her chest, her breath uneven, ragged. I could hear how hard she was fighting to keep it in. And it told me everything. I still had that effect on her.
"I am so sorry," I said, though I knew no amount of apology could ever change anything. "I want to make things right."
"There is nothing to make ri..."
She couldn't finish, because I stole the words from her lips—with my mouth.
The kiss was reckless, unplanned. I hadn't meant for it to happen, but with her this close, filling every corner of my senses with her scent, how was I supposed to hold back? It wasn't a hungry kiss, not at first. I took her mouth slowly, savoring her. I probably tasted like wine and beer, but who cared? She tasted like heaven. Divine. Her strawberry lip gloss melted into me, sweeter than sin.
And I couldn't stop. My hand slid to her waist, pulling her hard against my chest. My heartbeat pounded against hers, my wolf growling with a raw, guttural relief. God, I didn't want to stop—I couldn't.
She didn't kiss me back at first. Her mouth was stiff, resisting. But that didn't matter. I deepened the kiss, pushing past her resistance, my tongue prying at her lips until—finally—she parted them, letting me in.
Oh, thank you, Diana. In that moment, she kissed me back. Almost desperately. Almost hungrily. Like she had been waiting for me all this time, the same way I had been waiting for her.
My hand roamed along her waist, erasing every trace of him—her fiancé. Damn him for daring to touch what was mine. After this kiss, she wouldn't go back to him. She couldn't.
Except....
She shoved me back. Her palm cracked across my cheek.
And just like that, she reminded me, I wasn't her salvation. I was her mistake.