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Nate’s hand tightens, a low warning growl leaking through his lips. He sounds like he’s about to rip Father’s throat out.

I press tighter into his hold before glaring at my parents.“What I do with my body is none of your concern. All you need to worry about is the contract you signed. We need it for court.”

Father straightens his tie and his sleeves. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Now I’m growling. “The contract you signed giving me to them. The one you went overin detailthat day. I need it.”

Mother strokes her pearls, then reaches for my hand. “Daphne, honey. We’re so worried about you. You know there’s no contract.”

This is how they get what they want. The dark side of living in their shadows. My parents are expert liars and manipulators. Most of the elders in our circles are. Is it any wonder PackParker was so good at what they did with me? They had excellent teachers.

Maybe the gaslighting would’ve worked a year ago, but I know better now. “If the judge realizes you’ve withheld it this whole time, he won’t be pleased.”

Father laughs, and it’s this bitter, acidic thing. Genuine laughter is too deep an emotion for him. “You have no proof of anything. Just like you have no proof your alphas were anything less than perfect.”

Nate’s energy gets hostile, and I know I need to get us out of here before he puts his whole life on the line for me.

“Maybe not, but I hope you hear this. I’m never going back to them. I would rather walk away from this whole fucking country than end up under their thumb again.”

“You’re such a fucking waste.” Father turns away like I’m nothing. “Let’s go, Lori.”

“Please, Daphne. Reconsider. We just want what’s best for you.” Mother sniffs, faking tears that never come before latching onto Father’s arm and waltzing away.

We watch until they’ve disappeared out of sight and only then do I droop.

“You okay?” Nate asks, carefully settling behind me.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

My chest hurts—both because of how awful he sounds and how terrible I feel. There’s this weight behind my breastbone, sinking down and pulling me with it. “Can we go home, please?”

“Sure, baby.”

Nate says nothing as he drives, nor when he parks. He refuses to utter a word until he’s hauled me out of the car and into my house. Only when we’re in my bedroom, my sweet little nest, does he look at me and holy fuck, I almost wish he hadn’t. Every feeling is written on his face.

Desire. Anger. Hurt. Determination.

Trepidation licks down my spine along with a healthy dose of desire as he backs me into the door, leaving me with nowhere to run. Those rough hands leisurely roll the sleeves of his Henley, displaying toned forearms and the tattoos that ring them.

“What’s happening?” God, my voice is broken. Breathing ragged. Already, I’m lightheaded from how fast my heart’s beating. But this feels good.

Nate’s attention strips away the ache of my parents’ betrayal, rebuilding me so I’m standing on my own two feet again. And he does it all with a glance.

“You called me your friend,” he whispers, fingers caressing the swell of my breast. I barely feel it, an intentional tease. He’s trying to make me regret what I said. If only he knew I already do.

Yet I can’t help but poke him. This man that I know could never hurt me. “You are my friend.”

“Is that all I am to you, Daphne? Just your friend?” Nate’s head cocks, but it’s less golden retriever, more predator. Like he’s fallen into hindbrain. Into the hunt. The rut. He hasn’t, but he’sthis closeto the danger zone.

Why do I like that so much?

I shake my head as one of those hands slips behind my neck, squeezing the way he loves while the other caresses the inside of my thigh. The slow slide of it moving to meet the satin of my panties makes my breath catch. “Do you let your friends touch you like this?”

“No.” Between his body against mine, the way he holds me firmly and how his scent tunnels down my throat, filling me in a way so little ever has, I’ve never felt so desired. So safe. “I’m sorry, Nate.”

He clicks his tongue and his hand shifts just enough to slide beneath my panties so he can palm my body the way helikes. “You should be. You lied to your parents, and you lied to yourself.” His fingers play in my slick, showing me just how wet I am for this man. “Does this feel like we’re just friends?”