Leah's POV
The first thing I remembered was the cold. Not winter's bite, but the slick, oily chill of concrete against bare skin. My knees were scraped raw. My breath came in ragged bursts, fogging the air like gun smoke. I pressed my palms flat against the alley wall, felt the grime cling to my fingertips.
Naked. The word slithered through my skull, venomous. Not just my body - my pride flayed open, left to rot beside dumpsters reeking of stale beer and regret.
What the hell has happened to me? I remembered stabbing Lucas in the chest and walking into the flames.
Now here I am. Naked in some sort of back alley.
Voices slithered from the street.
"Lookie here... fresh meat. Yummy..." a man slurred. Three shadows lurched into the alley, their laughter wet and jagged. One held a bottle by its neck; the glass caught the neon buzz of the bar sign above. Red Rabbit Tavern. The letters bled crimson down the brick.
Is this... human world?
How the hell did I get myself ended up here?
I didn't move. Let them come closer. Let them see.
The tallest one reached for my arm, his fingers sausage-thick and trembling. "Ain't you a pretty..."
I broke his nose with my elbow.
He staggered back, howling. The bottle shattered. The other two froze, their drunken grins slipping. Good. Let them taste the fury coiling in my gut, the same rage that had burned through me when I learned that my own father sentenced me to death, when Lucas didn't lift a finger to stop it. Traitors. The word throbbed behind my teeth.
I lunged for the second man's throat...
A hand yanked me backward by the hair.
"Enough," a voice growled.
I whirled, fists raised, but the man holding me didn't flinch. He was lean, all sharp angles and cheap leather, his hair greasy under the streetlight. A cigarette dangled from his lips, unlit. "Save the drama, princess," he said, shrugging off his jacket. It reeked of smoke and fried food. "Put this on."
I stared at him. His eyes were the color of storm drains... gray and restless.
"Take it," he snapped, thrusting the jacket at me. "Unless you wanna negotiate naked?"
The drunks snickered. One wiped blood from his face. "Didn't know she was yours, Liam. Should've said so. We don't mess with your leftovers."
Leftovers? That hurts.
The jacket hit my chest. I caught it, my fingers trembling - not from cold, but from the wildfire in my veins. I am a Lycan Princess. I do not wear the stench of gutter rats.
But I slid my arms into the sleeves anyway. The lining was still warm.
"Pay up by Friday," the bleeding man muttered, retreating. "Or your grandma's gonna find out what kinda shit you're knee-deep in."
Liam's jaw tightened. For a heartbeat, I saw it - the flicker of fear, raw and animal. Then he grinned, all teeth. "Tell Vinny I'll spit in his whiskey next time. Adds flavor."
They vanished into the night.
His apartment smelled like mildew and regret. One room, unless you counted the mattress on the floor as furniture. A hot plate hissed in the corner, a pot of rice charring black. The only clean thing was the photo on the windowsill: a wiry old woman hoisting a fish bigger than her torso, her smile fierce enough to split the frame.
"Home sweet hellhole," Liam said, kicking a beer can under the sink. "Bathroom's there. Towels are… somewhere."
I didn't move. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why help me?"
He lit the cigarette finally, the flame trembling in his cupped hands. "You looked like you'd bite. I like biters."
"Try again."
For a moment, he studied me. Then he nodded at the photo. "Nonna's got lung cancer. Doctors say six months. I say bullshit." He took a drag, the ember flaring. "Costs a fortune to prove me right."
"So you pimp girls?"
"Introduce girls. Semantics, sweetheart." He winked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Nonna thinks I work at the fish market. Keep her pride intact, y'know?"
I stepped closer. The jacket hung loose on my frame, but I refused to adjust it. "You're terrible at this."
"At what?"
"Lying."
He barked a laugh. "Says the naked lady in a back alley."
The pot screeched. He swore, lunging for it, and knocked over a stack of unpaid bills. I watched him scramble, all elbows and curses. Pathetic. But there was a rhythm to his panic, a desperation that felt… familiar.
Like what I used to feel when Finn held me down.
No. Never again.
I shoved the memory aside. "You're burning dinner."
"Yeah? You wanna cook, MasterChef?" He thrust the pot at me. The only thing inside it was charcoal.
I glanced at the fridge. Empty, save for a six-pack and a lime so shriveled it looked fossilized. "You live like a feral cat."
"Hey, I offered hospitality..."
"Take me to a supermarket."
He froze. "What?"
"Food. Medicine. Whatever your Nonna needs." I stepped into his space, close enough to smell the nicotine and cheap cologne. "You'll die in a week eating this slop."
His smirk faltered. "Do you have money or something?"
"You've seen me naked. Did you see money on me?" I frowned.
"Hey, listen. I ain't got cash for..."
The knock cut him off.
Three heavy thuds. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Liam went pale.
"Liam!" A voice boomed through the door. "Open up before I kick it in!"
He grabbed my arm. "Bathroom. Now."
"Who are they?"
"Vinny's boys. Go."
I didn't budge. "How much do you owe?"
"Leah..."
I opened the door.
Two mountains in black suits filled the doorway. The taller one grinned, gold-capped teeth glinting. "Well, well. New recruit?"
"Back off, Rico," Liam snapped, stepping between us. "I'll have the cash by Friday."
Rico leaned in, his body oder a chemical assault. "Friday was yesterday, pupetto." He flicked Liam's chin. "Vinny says you gotta learn respect."
His partner pulled a knife.
Here's the thing about rage: it's a living thing. It breathes. It hungers.
I let it feed.
Rico's fist flew at Liam's face—
I caught his wrist.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then I twisted. The snap of bone was a wet crack. Rico screamed. His partner lunged, blade flashing.
I broke his elbow over my knee.
They collapsed in a heap, swearing, scrambling. Liam gaped.
"Tell Vinny," I said, crouching over Rico, "that Liam's under some new management."
He spat at me. I pressed my thumb into the fracture. He howled.
"Tell him."
They fled.
I turned to Liam and said, "So, where were we?"