The elevator doors slid shut.

Elizabeth Bennet stared at her reflection in the polished steel.

Her face was pale, but her blue eyes still burned with anger.

Thirty-eight.

Thirty-seven.

Thirty-six.

With every floor, the adrenaline drained out of her.

She had actually done it.

She had walked out of an interview at Darcy Capital.

People with Ivy League degrees fought for years to get into that company. The salary alone could have pulled her family out of the financial hole they had been sinking into for months.

And she'd told William Darcy to keep his damn job.

“Nice work, Lizzy,” she muttered.

She leaned against the cold metal wall and closed her eyes.

“What exactly was the plan after that?”

Nothing.

She had no backup offer. No savings worth mentioning. No rich relative waiting to rescue the Bennet family.

But staying in that office had felt impossible.

It wasn't only Darcy's arrogance.

It was him.

The second she'd stepped into his office, the entire room had felt charged.

Darcy hadn't needed to raise his voice. His presence alone filled the space, heavy and commanding, as if everyone around him instinctively knew to stay out of his way.

Everyone except her.

For some reason, the harder he'd pushed, the harder she'd wanted to push back.

And then there was his scent.

Elizabeth frowned at the memory.

Cedar. Rain. Something darker beneath both.

Wild.

She could still smell it.

That made no sense.

She'd never paid attention to how a man smelled before, especially one she'd wanted to slap within five minutes of meeting him.

Worse, every time Darcy had leaned closer, she'd felt a strange static beneath her skin.

Not attraction.

At least, that was what she told herself.

It had felt more like standing too close to a live wire.

Dangerous.

Unnatural.

She rubbed her arms.

“Get a grip.”

The elevator chimed.

The doors opened into Darcy Tower's enormous marble lobby.

Elizabeth lifted her chin and walked out.

She wasn't giving William Darcy another second of her life.

Outside, Manhattan hit her all at once.

Car horns. Sirens. Crowded sidewalks. Yellow cabs cutting through traffic. Office workers rushing past with phones pressed to their ears.

Normal.

She needed normal.

Elizabeth stopped beneath the entrance canopy and glanced back.

Darcy Tower rose above her, black glass cutting into the evening sky.

His office was somewhere near the top.

A strange pressure touched the back of her neck.

Elizabeth stiffened.

Someone was watching her.

She looked up.

Nothing but dark windows.

Still, the feeling remained.

Heavy.

Possessive.

Almost like a hand pressing between her shoulder blades.

She stepped away from the building.

“Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd.

High above the street, William Darcy watched until he could no longer see her.

But he could still smell her.

Vanilla.

Wild mint.

Mate.

His wolf slammed against his control.

Darcy gripped the edge of his desk.

“No.”

The word came out as a growl.

By the time Elizabeth reached the subway, anger had given way to something worse.

Reality.

Her phone showed six missed calls.

Four from her mother.

Two from her father.

Then she saw the messages.

Mom: Lizzy, please call me.

Mom: It's urgent.

Dad: Come home as soon as you can.

Elizabeth's stomach dropped.

She called immediately.

Her mother answered on the first ring.

“Elizabeth?”

“Mom? What's wrong?”

Silence.

Then Elizabeth heard unfamiliar male voices in the background.

“Mom?”

“Just come home, sweetheart.”

“Who's there?”

Another pause.

“Your father will explain.”

The call ended.

Elizabeth stared at the screen.

Something was very wrong.

Forty minutes later, she climbed the subway stairs into Queens.

Night had fallen.

Usually, coming home made her breathe easier.

Tonight, she couldn't shake the tightness in her chest.

She walked faster.

Then she turned onto her street.

And stopped.

A black sedan sat outside the Bennet house.

Two men in dark business suits stood on the porch.

Her father was arguing with them.

“Dad!”

All three men turned.

Mr. Bennet's expression changed the second he saw her.

“Elizabeth. Go inside.”

She kept walking.

“What happened?”

One of the men carried a thick folder.

“Elizabeth Bennet?”

“Who's asking?”

“We're here regarding several outstanding financial obligations connected to your father's business.”

Her stomach sank.

She knew the construction company had been struggling.

Two major clients had delayed payments. One development project had fallen apart halfway through. Her father had borrowed money to keep the company alive.

But whenever she asked how bad things were, he always gave her the same answer.

I'll handle it.

Apparently, he hadn't.

“How much?” Elizabeth asked.

“Lizzy,” her father warned.

She didn't look away from the collector.

“How much do we owe?”

The man opened the folder.

“Between the commercial loans, personal guarantees, outstanding credit lines, and the mortgage—”

“The mortgage?”

Elizabeth turned to her father.

He looked away.

Her anger disappeared.

“You put the house up as collateral?”

“I was trying to save the company.”

“You told us the house was safe.”

“I thought it was.”

Her voice cracked.

“Dad.”

“I had thirty-two employees depending on me, Lizzy. People with families. What was I supposed to do?”

Elizabeth wanted to answer.

She couldn't.

Suddenly, all the little things she'd ignored made sense.

Her mother crying in the laundry room.

Bills disappearing from the kitchen counter.

Her father staying awake until three in the morning.

The empty bottle of antacids beside his laptop.

They weren't struggling.

They were drowning.

The collector handed Mr. Bennet an envelope.

“You have seventy-two hours to contact the bank.”

Elizabeth stepped forward.

“And if we don't?”

“Collection proceedings may move forward.”

Her mother appeared in the doorway.

Her face was white.

“Are we going to lose our home?”

Nobody answered.

The silence said enough.

The men returned to their sedan.

Elizabeth watched the taillights disappear.

Three hours ago, she had been sitting across from one of the richest men in New York.

William Darcy probably spent more on one dinner than her family now had in the bank.

And she had thrown his offer back in his face.

Her father lowered himself onto the porch steps.

“I'm sorry.”

Elizabeth looked at him.

For the first time, he seemed old.

Not tired.

Old.

She sat beside him.

“How long has it been this bad?”

“A while.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Months.”

Elizabeth swallowed.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because you're my daughter. You're supposed to be building your own life, not cleaning up my mistakes.”

“Well, they're my mistakes now too.”

“No.”

“Yes, Dad.”

He looked at her.

She reached for his hand.

“We'll figure something out.”

She had no idea how.

For one humiliating second, William Darcy's face flashed through her mind.

Those cold gray eyes.

That expensive suit.

That infuriating voice.

She could call him tomorrow.

Apologize.

Ask for another chance.

Beg, if she had to.

Her pride screamed at the thought.

No.

There had to be another way.

She would find it.

Elizabeth couldn't sleep.

She checked the clock.

11:34 p.m.

Then 11:41.

11:47.

“Forget it.”

She threw back the covers.

Moonlight spilled across her bedroom floor.

She walked to the window—and froze.

The full moon hung above the rooftops, huge and silver.

Elizabeth stared at it.

Heat spread beneath her ribs.

She sucked in a breath.

“What the…”

The sensation moved through her body like a pulse.

Not pain.

Not fear.

Recognition.

Her heartbeat changed.

Slower.

Heavier.

Thump.

Elizabeth pressed a hand against her chest.

Thump.

The room seemed sharper somehow.

She could hear a car several streets away.

The rustle of leaves outside.

A neighbor's television through a closed window.

That wasn't possible.

Elizabeth stepped closer to the glass.

The moonlight touched her face.

Something deep inside her stirred.

Something that had been sleeping for a very long time.

Her palm touched the window.

A shock snapped through her fingertips.

Elizabeth jerked back.

“What the hell?”

A dog barked somewhere nearby.

Another answered.

Then another.

Within seconds, dogs across the neighborhood were barking.

Elizabeth stared into the darkness beyond her window.

She couldn't see anyone.

But she felt them.

Eyes.

Watching.

Waiting.

And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.

Elizabeth went completely still.

There were no wolves in Queens.

Across Manhattan, Darcy stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse.

The full moon had turned the city silver.

His hands were clenched at his sides.

His wolf had been restless since sunset.

Now it was becoming impossible to control.

Darcy closed his eyes.

Her scent hit him.

Vanilla.

Wild mint.

Elizabeth.

His eyes snapped open.

Gold swallowed the gray.

Behind him, Bingley froze.

“Alpha?”

Darcy didn't answer.

His wolf surged forward.

Not with rage.

Recognition.

Mate.

Darcy's jaw locked.

“No.”

His claws pushed from his fingertips.

Mate.

“She is human.”

The wolf rejected the words immediately.

Darcy gripped the marble edge of the bar until it cracked beneath his hand.

Bingley stared at the damage.

“Darcy.”

Then the phone rang.

Darcy answered.

His security chief didn't bother with a greeting.

“We've got movement along the eastern boundary.”

Darcy went still.

“What kind?”

“Rogues.”

His expression hardened.

“How many?”

“At least three confirmed.”

“What are they doing this far into the city?”

“We don't know.”

Then Elizabeth's scent flooded his senses again.

Stronger than before.

His wolf went wild.

Darcy's head snapped toward the east.

The rogues weren't lost.

They had caught the scent too.

“Where?”

Silence on the line.

Then—

“Queens.”

Darcy's blood went cold.

“Send me the location.”

“Alpha, we're already dispatching—”

“Now.”

The call ended.

Bingley took one look at him.

“It's her, isn't it?”

Darcy didn't answer.

He didn't have to.

Elizabeth lasted another ten minutes in her bedroom.

She needed air.

And coffee.

Mostly coffee.

Tomorrow she would go to the bank. Then every employment agency in Manhattan. She would sell her car if she had to.

Anything was better than crawling back to William Darcy.

She pulled on a jacket, grabbed her phone, and slipped quietly out of the house.

The convenience store was only three blocks away.

Normally, she wouldn't have thought twice about the walk.

Tonight felt different.

The full moon washed the empty street in pale light.

Elizabeth shoved her hands into her pockets.

Halfway down the block, she heard footsteps behind her.

She stopped.

The footsteps stopped too.

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder.

Nothing.

“Okay…”

She kept walking.

There.

Again.

Slow.

Heavy.

Not shoes.

Elizabeth's pulse quickened.

She turned.

“Who's there?”

Silence.

Then something moved inside the alley to her left.

Two yellow eyes opened in the darkness.

Elizabeth froze.

They were too high off the ground.

A shape stepped forward.

Huge.

Four-legged.

Its shoulders were almost level with her chest.

Elizabeth's mind struggled to make sense of what she was seeing.

A wolf.

No.

Impossible.

Wolves didn't roam Queens.

And no wolf was that big.

Its lips pulled back.

A low growl vibrated through the alley.

Elizabeth stepped backward.

Another growl answered from behind her.

She spun around.

A second pair of yellow eyes appeared.

Then a third.

Three enormous wolves surrounded her.

Every instinct screamed one word.

Run.

Elizabeth turned.

The first wolf lunged.

She threw up her arms.

A massive black shape slammed into it from the side.

The impact sent both animals across the pavement.

Elizabeth stumbled backward.

A roar ripped through the street.

The sound was so deep she felt it in her chest.

Then the black creature stepped into the moonlight.

Elizabeth forgot to breathe.

It was a wolf.

But it was bigger than the others.

Much bigger.

Black fur covered its massive body. Powerful shoulders rose and fell with every breath.

Golden eyes burned in the darkness.

The other wolves backed away.

They were afraid of him.

The black wolf moved between Elizabeth and the attackers.

A pressure rolled off him.

Invisible.

Absolute.

The air itself seemed heavier.

One of the rogues lowered its head.

Another stepped back.

Elizabeth should have been terrified too.

She wasn't.

That frightened her more than anything.

Because she knew that presence.

She had felt it once before.

Hours earlier.

Inside an office at the top of Darcy Tower.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

No.

That was impossible.

The black wolf turned toward her.

Their eyes met.

Gold against blue.

The street disappeared.

A spark shot through Elizabeth's palm, raced up her arm, and struck somewhere beneath her ribs.

She gasped.

The wolf froze.

For one impossible second, she caught a scent beneath the blood and cold night air.

Cedar.

Rain.

Wild darkness.

Elizabeth's breath caught.

She knew that scent.

The wolf took one slow step toward her.

Something ancient stirred inside Elizabeth.

Not a thought.

Not a memory.

An instinct.

A single word rose from somewhere that had no business existing inside her.

Mate.

Elizabeth staggered backward.

“No.”

The black wolf's golden eyes widened.

Behind him, one of the rogues suddenly lunged.

And before Elizabeth could scream, the black wolf turned to meet it.