3

Lyra

The hotel lobby smells of expensive leather, polished marble, and the faint tang of blood in the air. I notice it immediately, the way scent clings to Riven’s kind. Wolves like him always leave a trace, a mark of their presence that human noses cannot detect. My wolf stiffens the moment I step into the space, pulling against the invisible leash of reason and obedience I’ve clung to for years.

I’m here to deliver documents, to double-check the meeting room arrangements, and to make sure Kael has everything he needs. That’s it. My work, my life, my small island of order in a world where pack politics spill blood over mistakes smaller than a page of paper. I focus on the task, smoothing the edges of my nerves, forcing the wolf inside me to settle.

But then he appears.

Riven Blackmoor.

He doesn’t need to move fast to command attention. He stands at the other side of the lobby, tall, shoulders squared, eyes like molten silver and moonlight. Even from this distance, I feel it, the pull of him, sharp and insistent, tugging at the parts of me I try so hard to deny. My chest tightens, my breath catches, and for a moment the world narrows down to him and the ache that comes with knowing he is mine.

I ignore it. I tell myself it’s nothing. My heart shouldn’t race at the sight of a wolf who rejected me years ago, a rogue Alpha who has no place in my life. I will not let it affect me. I will not let him. I step forward, smooth my expression, and force the part of me that flinches to stay composed.

He notices me. Of course, he notices me. His gaze finds mine across the polished marble floor, and a flicker of recognition passes over his features. That subtle, fleeting look, the one that says he knows me, remembers me, and yet, somehow, does not approach. I feel the pull again, a whispering of my wolf reaching for him through invisible threads. My stomach twists, a mix of longing and frustration. He left me once, and I survived. I will survive again.

I set the folder down on the counter, my fingers trembling slightly despite my control. He steps closer, almost casually, but every movement radiates power, danger, and a primal kind of intent that my wolf would recognize in a heartbeat if I let her. I can feel the weight of him in the air, every molecule of the space seeming to shift in response to his presence. I force myself to take a deep breath, to focus on Kael, to remember who I am and where I belong.

Kael. My Alpha. My mate. My friend. The one who has been by my side in a world that demands loyalty above all else. The one who is supposed to protect me, guide me, and—though I do not always admit it even to myself—love me. I take a step back from Riven, crossing the lobby with precise, deliberate steps. The wolf inside me growls quietly at my restraint, disappointed in my obedience, yet I push the sensation down. I cannot let Riven claim even a fragment of my attention.

Kael is in a meeting. He has been gone for hours, negotiating with a rival pack over territory and shipments. The thought of him fills me with warmth, the kind that feels like sunlight through thick clouds. My wolf responds differently to him—steady, calm, comforting. The pull is familiar, grounded, the difference between fire and home. I tell myself that Kael is mine, that no rogue Alpha can undo the bond we share, no matter how sharp or urgent the other one feels.

I adjust the folder in my hands and approach the side of the room where the meeting documents are waiting. My steps are quiet, careful, almost ritualistic. The lobby seems impossibly large, every surface reflecting light in a way that makes it feel like I am being watched, observed from angles I cannot see. My instincts are screaming, warning me that this is not just a normal interaction, that danger is layered beneath the veneer of civilization and luxury.

Then the meeting ends. The door opens, and Kael steps into the lobby. My heart leaps in response, a pulse of familiarity that makes the ache from Riven fade slightly. Kael’s presence washes over me, steady and protective, and the wolf inside me relaxes just a little. He wears a dark suit, tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. His expression is unreadable, yet the faint curve of his lips toward me is enough to calm the tension knotted in my chest.

I move toward him, walking quickly now, eager to be near, to feel the safety that only he can provide. The pull toward Riven still tugs at me, faint and persistent, but Kael’s presence overrides it. It’s the difference between a storm and the eye of it, chaos contained and tethered. I reach him and hand him the folder, careful to meet his eyes. “Everything’s ready,” I say. My voice is steady, though a part of me still vibrates from the encounter with Riven.

Kael takes the folder and gives me a small nod, his fingers brushing mine briefly. The contact is electric, but in a safe, anchored way. My wolf exhales silently, satisfied, yet I know the tension has not completely left me. The rogue Alpha lingers in the back of my mind, a shadow that refuses to fade, a reminder of the danger and power I narrowly avoided.

Kael’s eyes scan me for a moment, reading more than I intend to show. There’s concern there, sharp and precise, and I force a small smile, hiding the turmoil that simmers beneath the surface. “You’re tired,” he says, voice low and calm. “Sit for a moment. Take a breath.”

I hesitate, but then I let myself sink onto a nearby chair, feeling the weight of his gaze like a blanket that both warms and protects. My wolf leans forward, head low, listening, feeling the room and the subtle shifts in energy. Riven’s presence is still out there somewhere, a pulse in the city that resonates through the bond. My wolf growls softly, warning me, but I close my eyes and focus on Kael.

He kneels slightly to meet my eyes, his hand brushing my hair back with gentle insistence. “You know,” he says quietly, “you don’t have to face everything alone. Not with me, not with the pack, not with me.” The repetition, the firmness, makes my chest ache with a mixture of relief and longing. He is patient, protective, but not possessive in a way that suffocates. He allows me space, even when he guides me, even when the bond between us hums quietly beneath the surface, unspoken but absolute.

I nod, trying to focus on him and push the memory of Riven to the back of my mind. My wolf growls low, reluctantly agreeing, acknowledging that Kael is here, that this is the safe tether in the storm. I feel the warmth of him, the grounding force that I have chosen, the connection that has been built over years of shared work, shared blood, shared danger.

The lobby seems quieter now, the tension easing slightly as Kael straightens. “I’ll take care of the rest,” he says. His gaze lingers on me, unreadable but full of intent. The wolf inside me relaxes completely, leaning into the pull of the bond that is ours, the familiarity that Riven cannot touch. My heart still beats faster than normal, still remembering the pull of the rogue, but I am reminded of who I am, of who I belong to.

Kael stands, and I rise with him. We walk together through the lobby, his presence steady beside me, a shield against the chaos that seems to lurk in every corner. The bond between us hums, quiet but insistent, a reminder that even in a world of wolves and violence, of mafia politics and rogue Alphas, there is a place where I am safe, where I am seen, where I am chosen.

And yet, the memory of Riven lingers, a shadow at the edge of my consciousness. I ignore it for now, forcing my mind back to Kael, to the task at hand, to the subtle tension and calm that exists between us. The wolf inside me accepts the compromise for the moment, curled quietly in the corner of my chest, knowing that the fire of another presence waits, patient and dangerous, for the day when I cannot ignore it any longer.

I follow Kael out of the hotel, keeping my steps measured, my mind steady. The city stretches before us, alive with danger, alive with power, alive with wolves who remember the old ways. I tell myself I will not falter, that my loyalty and bond with Kael are unshakable. But the echo of Riven’s pull, sharp and undeniable, reminds me that the world is not as simple as loyalty or duty, that the heart is a dangerous thing, and that even the safest choice carries its own kind of pain.

We step into the car waiting outside, black and sleek, the night swallowing the rest of the city around us. Kael’s hand brushes mine once, fleeting, grounding, a promise without words. My wolf leans into the touch, satisfied, and yet I know the storm is not over. Riven is out there, waiting. Watching. Remembering. And sooner or later, the bond that cannot be denied will demand attention, will demand me.

For now, I breathe. For now, I follow Kael. For now, I remember the safety and the choice I have made. And in the silence between heartbeat and instinct, I understand that the storm is only beginning.