The crystal flute shattered against Victor’s face, and for one satisfying second, Lyra watched the expensive wine drip down his smug expression. He deserved it. Moments earlier, he’d announced to the entire ballroom that he intended to keep his mistress. Not quietly, not privately—but in front of every shifter noble in attendance, including his fiancée.
“Plenty of alphas have mistresses in arrangements like ours,” he’d said, dripping with condescension. “Surely you’re not naive enough to think—”
“So I can have lovers too? ” Lyra had interrupted. “Of course not,” Victor scoffed.
“I don’t want to raise a bastard child. ”
Then he’d shot a conspiratorial look at the men around him, who chuckled on cue. That was when he asked her to fetch him a drink. So she threw it in his face.
Now she spun on her heel and walked away, ignoring his sputtered outrage. She’d made her decision. She would not be mating with Victor. The problem was, without Victor, her options were nearly gone.
Three months of searching had led her to this arrogant beta from one of the wealthiest families in the country—a man who wanted control of her pack, not her. In werewolf nobility, female alphas like Lyra were rare and inconvenient. Her council insisted she take a mate within six months to legitimize her leadership. Tradition demanded it.
Her time was running out. She pushed through the crowd, heading for the glass doors that led to the balcony. Her pack needed resources she couldn’t secure alone. The council would riot.
She didn’t notice the tall figure rounding the corner until it was too late. They collided. Cold wetness soaked her chest as crimson bloomed across the gray silk of her dress. “Shit,” Lyra muttered, staring down at the stain.
The sharp aroma of red wine hit her nose, mingling with a distinctly masculine scent. “Sorry about your dress,” came a smooth, deep voice. “Though to be honest, I think it looks better that way. ”
Lyra’s head snapped up.
“Oh, shut up. The least you could do is apologize—”
Her anger faltered as she locked eyes with him. Eyes so intensely blue they seemed almost unnatural. “I did,” he replied, a smirk curving his mouth.
“Or do you not remember? ”
He was beautiful in the way men like him always were. Sharp cheekbones, dark hair, and a look that said he got away with everything. “I remember you being a jackass,” Lyra growled.
That only seemed to amuse him. “Is someone having a bad night? ”
“What gave me away? Could it be the red wine I’m covered in?
”
“It’s not just any red wine,” the man explained. “It’s a 1982 Château Lafite Rothschild. ”
Lyra scowled just as Victor appeared, his face splotchy with anger. “Lyra, stop making a scene.
” He inclined his head to the dark-haired man. “Apologize to my alpha right now. ”
He moved to grab Lyra’s arm, but she sidestepped him. “Don’t tell me what to do.
”
Then she froze. Because in that moment, she realized why this dark-haired man seemed so familiar, why the crowd had parted for him earlier, and why Victor’s tone had shifted so dramatically. Victor’s alpha was Derek Westwood. A man who acquired territory like collectible watches.
A man whose signature on a treaty could make or break a thousand wars. A man whose family’s fortune could secure her own pack’s future for decades. And Lyra had just called him a jackass. “I am not your future Luna,” Lyra snapped, turning to Victor.
“The engagement is off. ”
“You can’t break this engagement over my mistress,” Victor seized her wrist. “You’ll lose your position without me, Lyra. ”
“And you’ll lose that hand if you don’t release me.
”
Victor growled. “Your pack will suffer for your pride. ”
In one swift move, Lyra twisted his wrist back, forcing him to release her. Derek Westwood tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement.
“Funny that you should speak of her pride, Victor. When you seem to have forgotten yours somewhere. In your mistress’s bed, perhaps? ”
Victor’s face went from red to purple.
“Alpha, with all due respect—”
“So you admit she’s due some respect, then? ” Derek cut in smoothly, pointing to Lyra. “Good, because she’s the alpha here. Not you.
”
“I’d rather lose my position than spend one more minute pretending you’re worth the air you breathe, Victor,” Lyra told him, releasing his wrist. She felt the weight of every stare in the room. Her momentary victory felt hollow as the reality of her situation sank in. She’d just torpedoed her last chance at an alliance, and made a spectacle of herself in front of the most powerful alpha on the continent, all in the same minute.
She hurried toward the exit. “Leaving so soon? ” a voice called from behind her. She turned to find Derek Westwood following her, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips.
“Home,” Lyra said tersely. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. ”
“Why so early? This party’s just getting started.
No one ever leaves my parties this early. ”
“In case you missed it, I just broke my engagement with the only potential mate my council managed to find me. ”
“Ah, yes. ” Derek nodded, then frowned.
“So? ”
“So, now I won’t be finding another mate in time. I’m going to lose my pack in a matter of weeks. And on top of that, my dress is ruined.
”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Derek interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I’ll help. ”
Lyra narrowed her eyes. “How so?
”
“Simple. You need a new dress. I’ll get you one. And you need a new mate.
I’ll get you one of those, too. ”
Lyra rolled her eyes. “Really? You’ll help me find a mate?
”
“Of course. I already have the perfect one in mind. ”
“Who? ” she said, crossing her arms.
Derek’s smirk widened into something almost predatory. “Me,” he declared, his blue eyes locking onto hers. Lyra stood in a private dressing room, staring at the array of expensive dresses Derek’s staff had brought in. It made no sense.
Why would Derek Westwood—heir to the oldest werewolf fortune on the continent, notorious playboy, and alpha to half the territory east—want to mate with her? “It makes perfect sense,” Derek called out cheerfully from just outside the changing area. “You need a mate. I need a mate.
Let’s be mates. ”
“Why do you need a mate? ” Lyra asked. “I’m just hoping to grow old with someone, you know.
”
“You don’t need to be mated for that. Your well-paid staff will grow old with you. ”
Derek clutched his chest dramatically. “Cold.
” He paused. “But valid. ”
There was a flicker of something urgent in his expression, gone so quickly Lyra almost thought she’d imagined it. “Fine,” Derek admitted, reading her dubious expression.
“I want a seat on the National Wolf Council. ”
“What does that have to do with me? ”
“The council is voting on a replacement for Elder Blackwell in a month. He passed rather suddenly.
They claim I’m not serious enough. Taking a mate would show I’m ready for responsibility. ”
“That actually makes sense,” Lyra said. “Fine.
But why me? ”
The silence that followed was suspicious and long. Lyra stepped out in a black dress that hugged her curves in a way her usual practical clothes never did. “Much better,” Derek replied, eyeing her approvingly.
“I don’t mean the outfit,” Lyra said, crossing her arms. “I mean, you didn’t answer my question. ”
Derek hesitated. “Can’t you believe I fell for you at first sight?
”
“No,” Lyra replied flatly. “All right. ” Derek’s smirk returned. “I heard about your situation.
You need a mate for business reasons, and you’re in a hurry. Am I right? ”
Lyra nodded slowly. “And I need a mate to get on the council.
But neither of us actually wants to get married. ” He paused. “Unless, of course, you’ve fallen for me at first sight. ”
“Definitely not,” Lyra replied.
“Good. So here’s my proposition. We mate for one year. I get my council seat.
You get legitimacy. And after a year, we break the bond and divorce. ”
Lyra’s mouth actually dropped open. “You’re crazy.
”
“But it just might work,” Derek pushed. Lyra reluctantly admitted it might. On the plus side, she’d get an immediate alliance with the strongest pack in the territory and secure her position. But a fake mating?
A temporary bond? “What if my pack just wants me to find another mate once we break things off? ” she asked aloud. Derek shook his head.
“They won’t. If we do this, we might divorce as a couple after a year, but your pack will remain under my protection for good. ”
The sincerity in his voice startled her. It seemed too generous.
“So, we have a deal? ” Derek prompted, glancing at his watch. “I’d like to announce our engagement tonight. ”
“Tonight?
” Lyra’s eyes widened. “That’s moving awfully fast. ”
“Time is of the essence. Council votes in a month, remember?
”
Lyra frowned, her fingers unconsciously touching the side of her neck where the claiming mark would go. “For this to work, we would need to publicly mark each other. Form an actual mating bond. The mating bond isn’t something to be taken lightly.
”
“This would all be for show,” Derek assured her. “I don’t expect you to share my bed after the claim, nor ever. ”
“But don’t you worry about breaking the mating bond? ”
“Probably a bit,” Derek shrugged.
“But we won’t let it set or deepen. Once we’re mated, we can each do our own thing after a brief fake honeymoon period where we don’t even need to be in the same room. ”
Lyra studied him. He had an answer for everything.
It was almost like he’d rehearsed this. But she didn’t have a lot of options. She needed to do what was right for her pack. “We’ll need a contract,” she said firmly.
“Something legally binding. ”
“Obviously. My lawyer will reach out to your lawyer. ”
He extended his hand, his blue eyes meeting hers.
“Do we have a deal? ”
Lyra hesitated, then put her palm in his. It wasn’t like she had much to lose. She was very, very wrong.
The wedding day arrived in a blur. Lyra stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror, hardly recognizing herself in the cascading pearls and the train that stretched for what felt like miles. Hundreds of guests filled the Westwood Estate’s gardens. Flynn entered, handsome but somber in his formal suit.
“You still have time to change your mind, you know. ”
“Shut up,” Lyra snapped. “This dress looks fantastic. ”
“Not what I meant, Lyra.
A mating bond is sacred. It should come from love. Not from—” He trailed off. “Not everyone has the luxury of marrying for love,” she replied, meeting his gaze at last.
Flynn fell silent, guilt flickering across his face. He’d left her to shoulder the pack’s burdens alone. “You should have at least had a customary courting period,” he muttered. “Why the big hurry?
”
“Give me one solution that works as quickly and effectively as what Derek Westwood is offering. An alliance with his pack means immediate security and resources. And what does he get? A council seat.
”
“Come on. With his money and connections, he could buy that seat ten times over. ”
Lyra shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t seen Derek since that night at the party when he’d draped her in jewels and announced their engagement like he was showing off a new acquisition.
The contract was signed. The guests had arrived. The pack needed this. “A bond isn’t just paperwork, Lyra,” Flynn said gently.
“When Juliet and I mated, it changed everything. You feel their emotions. Their absence becomes physical pain. ”
“I know how bonds work.
”
“Do you? Because Derek Westwood isn’t exactly known for his fidelity or commitment. ”
“Flynn, I’m doing this now. Either support me for trying my best for our pack, or leave.
”
Something shifted in his expression. Realization, maybe. He nodded sadly. As Flynn walked her down the aisle, Lyra kept her gaze fixed on the marble floor.
She was about to be mated to a stranger, and she had no idea what to expect. They reached the altar, and Lyra finally looked up—only to find an empty space where Derek should have been. Whispers rippled through the gathering. Kate Winters, another female alpha, snapped at Ryder from the front row.
“Where the hell is Derek? ”
A side door burst open. Derek Westwood strode in, tie askew, hair slightly mussed, wearing a ridiculous expression of exaggerated alarm that somehow still managed to look charming. “I’m here, I’m here,” he called, waving cheerfully.
“Sorry, everyone. Lost track of time. ”
The crowd actually applauded as he made his way down the aisle, like he’d done something heroic instead of nearly ruining their wedding. When he reached the altar, slightly out of breath, Derek pecked her cheek.
“And how are you today, my future mate? ”
Up close, Lyra noticed more. His skin was pale beneath his tan. Faint shadows lingered under his eyes.
“Is everything all right? ” she asked, frowning. His scent was off. Beneath the familiar notes of cologne and alpha musk was something metallic.
Blood. “All good,” Derek said, grinning as he turned to greet the officiant. The ceremony unfolded. They shared wine from silver goblets and bound their wrists in red silk.
Derek’s hand, wrapped in gloves, felt strange in hers. She tried to ignore it. The real binding would come later, in front of a much smaller audience. In only a few hours, they would be exchanging claiming bites.
Lyra stood in the private chamber of the Westwood estate, acutely aware of the witnesses watching as she faced Derek. In moments, she’d be bound irrevocably, magically, to a virtual stranger. “You may now mark each other with the claiming bite,” the officiant said. “The female traditionally begins.
”
Lyra froze. Her heart pounded wildly. Derek’s scent pressed in around her—cedar, smoke, and that haunting tang of not-yet-healed blood. She wanted to ask why he was still wearing gloves.
Then he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the smooth arch of his throat, and all she could think was, Oh, God, this is really happening. “Would you prefer I go first? ” Derek murmured, voice barely above a whisper. She nodded.
Something primal in her needed to know what this would feel like. He stepped closer, the heat of his body closing in. One hand rested on her hip. The other cradled the back of her head.
His mouth grazed her neck, gentle, reverent. “Lyra,” he whispered. “Yes. ”
His teeth sank in.
Pain, sharp and brilliant, burst through her. She gasped. But the pain melted quickly, turning to heat, molten and golden. The bond ignited.
She felt everything—the taste of her blood on his tongue, the rush of heat through his body, the way his control faltered as the bond rooted deep. Her knees buckled. A moan escaped her lips, involuntary. She clutched his arms for balance, overwhelmed by his scent, now addictive, craved.
His mouth lingered, tongue lapping at the wound in slow strokes meant to soothe, but it burned, tender and raw. She arched into him before she could stop herself. When he finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, his lips slick with her blood. It should have disturbed her.
It didn’t. It tempted. “Your turn,” he rasped. She surged forward and sank her teeth into his neck.
Derek growled, deep and guttural. His body jerked, hands gripping her waist as pleasure crashed back into her like lightning. There was no boundary between them anymore, just shared sensation, urgent and endless. The bond exploded wide open.
Lyra felt everything he was—pain, restraint, desire, and buried beneath it all, loneliness. A final pulse locked it into place like a knot pulling tight. It was done. Congratulations exchanged.
The door clicked shut. Silence descended, and with it, heat. Invisible threads tightened, drawing her toward him. They’d drifted closer without realizing.
Derek swallowed hard. “Thank you,” he said. Before she could answer, he touched her shoulder briefly and flashed a smile—strained, too bright. “Well, I should get going.
Wouldn’t want this bond to deepen too much, would we? ”
Then he was gone. Lyra blinked after him, stunned, breathless, her body still buzzing with the echo of what just happened. Lyra woke up disoriented, her mind struggling to place the unfamiliar ceiling above her.
Then memory flooded back—the wedding, the mating ceremony, the bond. According to their agreement, she and Derek would remain sequestered at his estate for two weeks, pretending their bond was legitimate while it settled. Two weeks in a luxurious prison. The arms holding her were surprisingly gentle.
Lyra froze. Arms. She twisted around to find herself face to face with a sleeping Derek Westwood, his arm draped casually across her waist, holding her against his chest as if they’d been sleeping this way for years. She gaped at him, violently extracted herself from his embrace, then proceeded to do the only sensible thing.
She hit him on the arm. “What the hell? ” she exclaimed. One blue eye snapped open, regarding her with irritation.
“What? ”
“You’re in my bed. ”
“Well, technically,” Derek said, flopping back down, “it’s still my bed. After all, this is my house.
”
Lyra grabbed a pillow and hit him with it. “We’re married,” she reminded him with false sweetness. “What’s yours is mine, baby. ”
Derek settled deeper into the mattress.
“And what’s mine is yours, such as this bed. Good night. ”
Lyra jumped out of bed and yanked the curtains open, flooding the room with bright morning light. “Now you’re just being mean,” Derek muttered, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Why are you here? ” Lyra demanded. “Don’t know. Can’t remember.
”
The words were dismissive, but through their new bond, Lyra felt a quick undercurrent of genuine confusion. Beneath that, she sensed an ache behind her eyes that wasn’t her own, and a rolling nausea that made her own stomach clench in sympathy. “Are you hung over? ” she asked, bewildered.
“What else could it be? Shifters don’t get sick, ever. ”
Derek’s eyes snapped open at that. “Of course not,” he replied, sounding genuinely offended.
He sat up, reaching for the clock on the bedside table. Suddenly, he froze, alarm piercing through their bond like an electric shock. Lyra followed his gaze to his left hand. A deep gash ran across his palm, angry, red, and raw.
She remembered the blood on her own hand after the ceremony, how his glove had been damp with it. “Did you hurt your hand again? The wound shouldn’t still look so fresh. ”
Among their kind, injuries healed in minutes, hours at most.
A cut like this should have sealed within an hour. “Derek? ” she prompted when he didn’t respond. He just stared at his hand in what looked like shock.
“It didn’t work,” he muttered, cursing under his breath so quietly she almost missed it. For a brief, unguarded moment, raw fear pulsed through their bond. Then nothing, as if a door had slammed shut between them. Derek sprang to his feet, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.
He stumbled out of bed, still wearing his wrinkled wedding suit from yesterday. “Where are you going? ” Lyra followed. He reached the bedroom door, yanked it open, then—to her surprise—slammed it shut again with enough force to rattle the hinges.
After a pause, he reopened it, staring into the hallway with growing frustration. “Derek. What’s going on with you? ”
“Quiet.
I need to focus. ”
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then reopened the door. The same hallway greeted him. He released a frustrated sigh.
He ripped the doorknob, closed his eyes again in concentration, and pulled the door open once more. From Lyra’s position behind him, she could only see his reaction—his shoulders relaxing, a soft exhale of relief. “Perfect,” Derek murmured to himself. Before Lyra could move closer, Derek stepped through the doorway and pulled the door shut behind him with a decisive click.
“Hey! ” Lyra exclaimed, rushing forward. She grabbed the handle, yanked the door open, and found only the same empty hallway from before. No Derek in sight.
She checked the adjoining bathroom, the walk-in closet, even looked under the bed. Her new mate had completely vanished. Derek stumbled across the threshold of the bookshop. The warm air enveloped him like a physical force.
It looked exactly as he remembered it—impossibly tall bookshelves stretching upward, the distinctive smell of old paper mingled with something otherworldly. “You again,” the magician’s unimpressed voice came from behind a stack of books. He emerged, green eyes flat and unreadable, copper hair falling carelessly across his forehead. “And after we spent hours explaining why you shouldn’t make a wish to break that curse of yours.
”
The human girl who worked for him appeared from between the shelves, carrying what looked like an ancient scroll. Her eyes widened when she spotted Derek. “Oh, great. The rich wolf is back.
”
“I didn’t come to make a wish,” Derek snapped. “Though I’m very much still cursed. ”
Adrien tilted his head, studying him like a bug under glass. “What was your curse again?
We see a lot of people with curses. ”
“Losing my powers,” Derek snapped, holding up his injured hand. The cut from before the wedding ceremony still hadn’t healed. “He needs to find a mate before he turns thirty, or he becomes human,” Iris supplied, perching on a nearby stool.
“Oh, that’s not one of mine, is it? ” Adrien observed with a frown. “Focus,” Derek interrupted. “You assured me finding a mate would break the curse.
”
Adrien picked up a dusty book, flipping through it absently. “I told you taking a mate would be easier than making a wish. ”
“What’s that supposed to mean? ”
“What I said before.
I could break your curse for you, but it would cost you what you value most. Which would most likely be the very powers you’re hoping to preserve. Hence why I encouraged you to try breaking it like everyone in your family has. ”
“And I did,” Derek waved his injured hand.
“I mated. And in case you haven’t noticed, curse is still on. ”
The Westwood family curse dated back generations. Ever since a great-great-grandfather had pissed off a powerful witch, every firstborn would lose their wolf side at thirty if they hadn’t mated.
Derek had grown up seeing what happened to his aunt when she refused to mate—she’d lost her powers, her place, everything. He’d always figured he’d find someone in time. “Are you certain about the curse’s conditions? ” Adrien asked.
“Of course. My father had it. My grandfather had it. ”
“How do you know it’s still active?
” Iris asked. He held up his hand. “I should have healed by now. A few months ago, it would have taken seconds.
I’m becoming more human every day, and by thirty it’ll be permanent. ”
“Oh. Being human’s not so bad,” Iris shrugged. Derek glared.
The thought made his skin crawl. Weak. Vulnerable. No more shifting.
No more power. No more leading his pack. He’d lose everything. “Maybe you didn’t mate properly,” Adrien mused.
“We did everything by the book. Found a good candidate, signed a contract, threw a party, and most importantly—” He remembered sinking his teeth into Lyra’s skin, the taste of her blood on his tongue. Then her teeth finding his neck in return. How the world had imploded.
“I’m sure we’re mated. ”
“What? Did you even tell her this was all about breaking your curse? ” Iris demanded.
“Of course not. I’m not about to reveal my Achilles heel to a stranger. ”
“Your mate is a stranger,” Adrien’s eyebrows shot up. “Why are we helping him?
” Iris muttered. “He’s so selfish. That poor girl doesn’t even know she’s been tricked. ”
“I haven’t tricked her,” Derek interrupted, offended.
“She agreed to marry me for advantageous business reasons, which I fully intend to uphold. That’s why we have a contract. ”
They would divorce soon. It was a perfectly fair transaction.
“But surely,” Iris snapped, “if she loves you, she’d understand your problem. ”
“Whoa, whoa. Who said anything about love? I told you this was contractual.
”
Adrien’s palm connected with his forehead in a dramatic face palm. “What? ” Derek asked, confusion mounting. “The curse you have is about emotions, not contracts.
”
Derek blinked. “I don’t follow. ”
“Matings generally happen because someone is in love. You bought a mate.
The bond isn’t sincere. And sincere is what the curse demands. ”
“Wait. My father never said anything about that.
He just said I needed to find a mate before turning thirty. ”
“And you assumed the legal and physical bond was what mattered. Curses are specific. They operate on the letter of their conditions.
If yours requires true love, then a marriage of convenience won’t satisfy it. ”
Derek felt a chill run down his spine. “So, what are you saying? That I should have made sure my mate was in love with me or something?
”
The grim look he received in response made his stomach plummet. Lyra paced her new bedroom. The bond pulsed at the base of her neck, an ever-present reminder of the man she was now tied to. A man who had vanished four hours ago right after their claiming ceremony.
She needed answers. She opened the bedroom door and froze. Derek was sitting on her bed, leg bouncing with nervous energy, though his smile was dazzling when he looked up. “There’s my beautiful mate,” he said, patting the mattress beside him.
Lyra crossed her arms. “What’s up with you? ”
“I thought we should get to know each other,” Derek replied, spreading his arms invitingly. “Perhaps while cuddling.
”
“No. ”
His smile didn’t waver. “Fair enough. Then what about dinner?
”
“Already ate. ”
“Dessert? ” He suggested, unfazed. “There’s always room for more dessert.
”
His face and posture projected perfect charm and relaxation. But pressing against her consciousness through their bond was a current of tension so strong it was almost electric. “Fine,” she agreed, curiosity overcoming her irritation. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit.
”
When she descended the grand staircase in comfortable pajama pants and a t-shirt, deliberately choosing the most casual outfit possible, a staff member directed her to a dining room she hadn’t seen before. Lyra stopped dead in her tracks. The room had been transformed into something out of a romance novel. Dozens of candles cast a golden glow over a table laden with desserts of every description.
Flowers spilled from vases and wound around candelabras. In one corner, a string quartet played softly. In the center stood Derek, wearing a tailored suit that made him look like he’d stepped off a magazine cover. “What the hell is this?
” Lyra gestured at the entire setup. “Dessert! ” Derek exclaimed, waving at a chair. “Please sit.
”
“There are dudes playing the violin. ”
“Do you prefer the piano, darling? ” He grabbed her hand and led her toward the table. She pulled her hand away.
“Okay, seriously, what’s going on? ”
“Nothing. ” His smile was too bright, too forced. Through their bond, his anxiety spiked.
“Then why are you stressed? ”
He pouted—actually pouted like a child caught in a lie. “Maybe because you’re tense. ”
The realization hit her like a cold wave.
If she could feel his emotions, then he could feel hers too. The thought made her feel oddly exposed. “Derek, I know something’s up. Stop trying to distract me with—”
He slipped a spoon between her lips.
The taste exploded on her tongue—rich velvety chocolate with hints of orange and a whisper of sea salt. “That is actually delicious,” she admitted. “Right? ” Derek beamed.
“Did you make it yourself? ”
“Would you like it more if I did? ”
“It’s actually my favorite dessert. My mom used to make it.
”
“I know,” Derek said softly. “Your brother told me. ”
Lyra gaped at him. “You asked my brother about my favorite dessert?
”
“Well, of course. How else was I supposed to know what to prepare? ”
Something warm and unfamiliar fluttered in Lyra’s chest. It was such a small thing, but it was thoughtful.
She hadn’t been expecting thoughtfulness. “Okay, what’s going on? ” she asked, retreating to suspicion as the safer option. “This morning you didn’t remember how you got into my room, and then you got all weird and disappeared.
”
Derek glanced nervously at the string quartet, his hand reaching for hers again on the table. “And your hand is still injured, isn’t it? That’s why you’re wearing your gloves. ”
Derek planted his hand over her mouth to silence her.
Their eyes locked, his practically screaming at her to be quiet. Then he turned to the musicians and staff. “Leave us,” he commanded. The room cleared in seconds, leaving them alone among the candles and flowers.
“What’s going on with you? ” Lyra demanded. “Answers now. ”
“Fine,” Derek raised his hands in surrender.
“I need us to renegotiate the terms of our contract. ”
Lyra tensed, her mind jumping to worst-case scenarios. “How so? ”
“No, no,” he interrupted quickly.
“You’ll still get the full support of my pack as promised. ”
“Okay. ” She relaxed slightly. “Then what is it you would like to review?
”
Through their bond, she felt his fear spike dramatically, hitting her with such force that her own heart started racing in response. “I’m going to need you to do something for me,” he said, meeting her eyes. “It’s very important. Vital, in fact.
”
“Okay, what? ”
Derek sighed deeply. “I need you to fall in love with me. ”
He paused, then added with complete seriousness, “For real.
”
Lyra blinked, waited for the punchline. When it didn’t come, she started to laugh. The next morning, Lyra woke to find every surface in her room buried beneath flowers. “Too much?
” Derek asked, leaning in the doorway with a self-satisfied grin. “I’m allergic to roses,” she lied flatly, just to be difficult. “No, you’re not. I asked Flynn.
”
“Stop talking to my brother. ”
By lunchtime, the roses were replaced with lilies. By dinner, orchids. When Lyra complained about the waste, Derek donated them all to local hospitals.
Then came the gifts. A Ferrari appeared in the driveway. Diamond necklaces arrived in velvet boxes. Derek presented her with the deed to a small island.
“You can’t buy my love,” Lyra snapped. “Obviously,” Derek agreed. “Which is why I also wrote you a poem. ”
“Read it to me and I will literally bite you.
”
Derek’s eyes lit up. “Is that a promise? ” He wiggled his brows. Through their bond, his amusement hit her like a wave.
The bastard was enjoying this. Worse, underneath the grand gestures and ridiculous charm, sincerity kept slipping through. When he asked about her pack, his curiosity felt real. When he asked about her childhood dreams, he actually listened.
That night, after he butchered a serenade of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” retitled “You Can’t Help Falling in Love with Me,” she finally snapped. “Why would you want me to fall in love with you now? We’re supposed to break our bond in a year. ”
Derek followed her to her room.
“Is that what’s worrying you? Of course I’m not going to break our bond once you’ve fallen in love with me, Lyra. ”
“Once I’ve fallen in love with you? ” She echoed, stunned by his certainty.
“Come on. Look into my eyes. Tell me you feel nothing when you look into those eyes. ”
“I feel the urge to smack you,” she said, and slammed the door in his face.
Alone, her hand drifted to her chest. The truth was, she did feel something. She felt everything he was trying to hide. Fear, loneliness, and a sort of intrigue that grew the more she resisted him.
The next morning, she found him in the library. His perfect hair was tousled, and there was that faint metallic tang in his scent again. “And what about you? ” she asked softly.
“Will you be falling in love with me then? ”
He quieted, eyes searching hers. “Would you like me to? ”
“No, I want to fall in love with someone I’m bound to, only for him to feel nothing back, then spend eternity reminded of it every single day,” she snapped.
“You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you? ” he asked wearily. “Of course I’m being sarcastic, you do—”
He caught her arm, gentle, hesitant. “Okay,” he said slowly.
“I get it. I’ve been an ass. It isn’t fair to expect you to love me without any hope of reciprocity. If you’d like me to, then I will.
I’ll try. ”
“Try? ” Lyra repeated, stunned. “Like it’s some kind of chore?
”
“Well, I can’t make any promises, can I? I mean, you’re not making much of an effort at being seductive here. ” He gestured to her oversized pajamas. “Of course I’m not.
You’re the one who wants me to fall in love with you, not the other way around. ”
Derek crossed his arms and pouted. It was infuriating how cute the pout was. Lyra suspected he knew it.
Days blurred together. Lyra wore her rattiest sweats. She talked with her mouth full. She left wet towels on his expensive furniture.
She was trying to wear him down. But the more she pushed, the more entertained he seemed. And through the bond, she started to feel guilt. “Look,” he said eventually.
“I just want us to try and make this relationship work. All right? Can we do that? Just give the bond a real chance.
”
“But why now? ” she asked, folding her arms. “What is all this, Derek? You never wanted a real relationship before.
”
He didn’t meet her eyes. “I thought of a great idea for a date. ”
“See? ” Lyra interrupted.
“I’m not stupid. Something’s wrong. I feel it through our bond. And every time I bring it up, you distract me with another ridiculous gesture.
”
“The Ferrari wasn’t ridiculous. You love it. ”
She did love it. But that wasn’t the point.
“Stop it,” Lyra exploded. “Stop trying to distract me with gifts and your stupid charming smile. If you actually want this to work, then be honest with me for once. ”
His breath hitched through their bond.
She felt his hesitation waver. “Fine,” he whispered, looking away. “I’ll tell you everything. ”
“You will?
”
“Yes, I will. ” He swallowed. “If you go on an actual date with me. ”
The vulnerability in his eyes made her want to run.
This wasn’t the flashy alpha she knew how to handle. “One date,” she said, her voice rougher than she’d like. “And then you tell me what’s really going on. ”
He nodded.
The restaurant was all warm woods and gleaming silverware, exactly the kind of place Lyra would have expected Derek to choose—except for one detail. A human restaurant. “Can’t a man just want good Italian food? ” Derek deflected.
When Lyra said nothing, he sighed. “Fine. You’re right. God, this bond is so annoying.
”
Sometimes when Derek moved, she swore she could feel it pull taut between them. Like now, as he settled into his seat across from her, she had to resist the urge to lean forward to close the distance. “Tell me something about yourself,” he asked eventually. “That wasn’t part of the deal.
”
“Does everything have to be a deal with you? This is a date, Lyra. People date to get to know each other. ”
“Fine.
What do you want to know? ”
“Something juicy. Personal. ”
“You want to know about my first kiss or something?
”
Something resembling aggravation flashed across Derek’s face. “Not really. Not when you and I haven’t even kissed yet. ”
For some reason, she found herself looking frantically for something to make him smile again.
“Fine. You want something real? I resented my brother for years. ”
Derek’s eyebrows shot up.
“But you two seem so close. ”
“Yeah, I guess we are. But growing up, it always felt like I had to work twice as hard as him only to be valued half as much. ” She traced a pattern on the tablecloth.
“I trained so hard to make myself stronger, but at every council meeting, every pack gathering, they’d look to him first. ”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just because he was older? ”
Lyra gave him a flat look. “How many female alphas do you know?
”
“Point taken. ”
“I still feel awful for resenting Flynn, though. He never asked for any of it. ”
“Sounds like you resented the system more than your brother,” Derek observed.
“Your turn,” Lyra said. “What’s really going on with you? ”
“I’m having a lovely dinner with my beautiful mate. That’s what.
”
“Derek,” she scolded. He leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know what we should do? Dancing.
”
“You promised to tell me everything. ”
“And I will. ” He signaled for another bottle of wine. “Are you stalling?
”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. ”
When their hands brushed reaching for the bread basket, Derek’s fingers lingered a moment too long. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “The bond makes it hard to resist sometimes.
”
“You seem to be managing just fine most of the time,” Lyra observed, watching him drain his glass again. “Do I? ” There was an edge to his smile now. “Maybe I’m just better at hiding it than you think.
”
“Hiding what exactly? ”
“Many things. ” He waved for the waiter. “More wine.
”
“You’ve had plenty. ”
“Nonsense. Besides, you barely touched yours. ” He leaned back, studying her face.
“You know what your problem is, Lyra? You think too much. Always analyzing, always suspicious. ”
“Someone has to think, since you’re clearly not.
”
“Ouch. ” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “And here I thought we were having a moment. ”
“Maybe if you stopped having ulterior motives.
”
“Maybe I just want to spend time with my mate. ”
The words came out softer than she thought he intended. Lyra watched him more carefully now—the way he was listing slightly in his chair, how his eyes took a fraction too long to focus. “Are you feeling all right?
” she asked carefully. “Never better. ” He gestured expansively, knocking over his half-full wine glass. It hit her then.
The slight slur in his words, the delayed reactions, the clumsy movements so unlike his usual grace. “Derek, are you drunk? ”
He blinked, puzzled, then snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.
It’s human wine. It doesn’t affect us. Well, usually. ” He trailed off, staring at his wine glass like it had personally betrayed him.
Then he started laughing, a sound that started controlled but quickly edged toward hysteria. “Oh, this is perfect. This is just—” He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “First, I can’t heal properly.
Then, I can barely shift. Now, I can’t even handle human alcohol. ” His laugh had a bitter edge now. “What’s next?
Reading glasses? ”
“Derek. ” Lyra started, alarmed by the raw fear pulsing through their bond. “Maybe I’ll have to start exercising to stay in shape,” Derek continued.
“Or feel cold when it’s cold. Can you imagine? ”
“Okay, that’s enough. ” She signaled urgently for their waiter.
“Check, please. Now. ”
The cool night air hit them as they exited the restaurant, and Derek stumbled slightly. “I’ll drive,” she told the valet, plucking the car keys from his hand.
Once they were back inside his home, Derek kept swaying into her space. His hand found her waist, steadying himself. “You smell nice,” he murmured. “Have I mentioned that before?
”
“You’re very drunk. ”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t make it less true. ”
After she helped him sit on the edge of his bed, she tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.
“Derek, do you ever want to touch me? ” The question came out soft. “I want to touch you all the time. It’s terribly distracting.
”
Through their bond, she felt a surge of longing so intense it made her breath catch. “You never said anything. ”
“Of course not. You already think I’m ridiculous.
”
“You know what I just realized? ” Derek said. “We’ve never kissed. ”
Before she could react, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was surprisingly gentle, almost sweet. Their bond flared bright and hot between them, and for one dangerous moment, Lyra let herself sink into it. Then he pulled back, blue eyes heavy-lidded. “I suppose I should tell you now,” he murmured, “about what’s happening to me.
”
“You don’t have to. ”
“No, no. You’ve been very patient. More than I deserve, really.
” He sighed, shutting his eyes. She thought perhaps he’d fallen asleep. “I’m turning into a human,” he murmured. “Which is why I’m—” He waved a hand over his form.
“Why? ” Lyra asked, appalled. “Curse,” Derek muttered. “What?
”
“My great-great-grandfather managed to thoroughly offend a rather powerful witch. You know how these things go. ” He attempted to loosen his tie and nearly strangled himself. “She cursed you to become human?
”
“Should I not find a mate before I’m thirty,” Derek said, cracking an eye open, “a mate who’s not just bonded to me for financial reasons. One that, you know. Loves you? ”
Lyra realized everything now.
Why he’d been in a hurry to find a mate. Why he’d been trying to make her fall for him. “That’s why you’ve been healing slower. Why you can barely shift anymore.
”
She wanted to be angry. He could have told her before, told her the truth. But through their bond, bitter self-recrimination flooded her senses, mixed with growing drowsiness. Perhaps it was because she was magically attuned to his feelings, but she couldn’t help thinking that in his shoes, she probably would have done the same.
She didn’t think she’d have trusted a stranger with such a damning secret either. “Do you really not like me at all? ” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Not even a little bit?
”
She looked down at him—designer suit rumpled, dark hair falling across his forehead, blue eyes clouded with wine and something that might be hope. But before she could answer, his eyes drifted shut. He patted her hand with surprising gentleness. “It’s okay,” he murmured.
“I know you’re just here for your pack. I understand. ”
Then he was asleep, leaving Lyra to stare at him in the darkness, her heart beating too fast and the bond humming between them like a living thing. Because the truth was, she did like him.
And she had no idea what to do about it. Derek woke to what felt like an army of dwarves mining in his skull. He made it halfway to his private bathroom before the nausea hit. “Alpha Westwood,” his housekeeper’s voice came through the door.
“Are you all right? ”
“Fine,” Derek forced his voice steady. “Just exercising. ”
“At six in the morning, in your bathroom?
”
“New workout regime. ”
Two hours and three rounds of vomiting later, Derek was decidedly not fine. He was curled on the cool tile floor when he caught a familiar scent. “You look awful,” Lyra announced from the doorway.
“Impossible. I never look awful. ”
He heard her moving around his bedroom. Then the bathroom light dimmed mercifully.
“Flynn’s mate, Juliet, gave me some human hangover remedies. Apparently, you need water, painkillers, and something called electrolytes. ”
“I need nothing,” Derek declared with dignity. “Except perhaps a quick death.
”
But Lyra ignored his dramatics, helping him sit up and pressing a bottle of water into his hands. “Small sips,” she instructed. “And take these. ”
Despite his protests, he let her take care of him.
The medicine helped, and soon the room stopped spinning quite so violently. “This is humiliating,” he mumbled into his pillow. “Yes, because I had such a high opinion of you before. ”
But her touch was gentle as she smoothed his hair back from his face.
Without thinking, he leaned into her hand. “You don’t have to stay,” he said, even as he shifted to rest his head in her lap. “Shut up and rest. ”
Surprisingly, he did.
Her fingers carded through his hair, and the bond hummed contentedly between them. For the first time since he’d started losing his powers, he felt safe. When he woke again, it was dark outside. They’d shifted in sleep, and now he was curled around her, their legs tangled together.
The bond pulsed warm and drowsy between them. Morning found him feeling surprisingly good. Lyra had taken care of him. He should do something nice for her in return.
He was still planning possibilities when he met her for breakfast, watching her fidget with her napkin. “I think we should break our bond,” she said without preamble. Derek’s coffee cup froze halfway to his mouth. “What?
”
“You need to find someone to fall in love with you,” Lyra continued, her voice gentle but firm. “You won’t do that while mated to me. ”
He carefully set down his cup. He wanted to protest, perhaps even be hurt.
But through their bond, he felt her genuine concern, even as something in his chest constricted painfully. “Well,” he managed a laugh. “After yesterday’s display, I suppose you won’t be falling for me anytime soon. ”
“Derek,” she said, “this was always a business arrangement.
You need to build something real. ”
He slammed his mental walls up, desperate to hide the hurt her words caused. Because she was right. This was business.
The fact that he’d started to want more was his problem, not hers. “We don’t need to break the bond,” he said smoothly. “You can return to your pack as planned. I’ll figure something out.
But I made you a promise about protecting your pack. I intend to keep it. ”
“But Derek, when you find someone you genuinely care for, we break the bond immediately, okay? Your health takes priority.
”
He maintained his smile until she left. Only then did he let it fall, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. He wanted her to care for him—not out of obligation or sympathy, but genuinely. He wanted lazy mornings and shared jokes and someone who saw past his perfect facade.
He wanted her. But he’d ruined any chance of that with his schemes and manipulations. She’d never trust that his feelings were real now. At least he could give her this.
Keeping his promise, protecting her pack, letting her go without guilt. It wasn’t much, but it was the one honest thing he could offer. A month later, Lyra sat in her office, watching the clock. Ten minutes until the border territory meeting.
Ten minutes until she saw Derek for the first time since leaving his estate. The door opened. May, her assistant, poked her head in. “Alpha Wilder, the Westwood representatives have arrived.
”
Lyra smoothed her expression into professional courtesy. But it wasn’t Derek who walked through the door. “Alpha Wilder. ” Victor smirked, striding into the office like he owned it.
“What a pleasure to see you again. ”
Lyra stared at him, momentarily stunned. “Victor. Where’s Derek?
I mean, Alpha Westwood. ”
“Alpha Westwood sends his regrets. He had pressing matters to attend to. I’ve been authorized to speak on his behalf.
”
The meeting proceeded with excruciating formality. Victor presented Derek’s proposals; Lyra countered with her own. But every time she asked a direct question about Derek’s preferences, Victor gave evasive answers. “And when might Alpha Westwood be available?
” Lyra asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. “Hard to say. ” Victor leaned back in his chair. “He’s been rather preoccupied lately.
”
“Preoccupied with what? ”
“Who, not what,” Victor corrected, smiling now. “Though I’m surprised you don’t know. I thought mates shared everything through the bond.
”
“We have a unique arrangement. ”
“Evidently. Must be difficult, though, being replaced so quickly. ”
Lyra’s throat tightened.
“I’m sorry? ”
“Your mate,” Victor said with exaggerated patience. “He’s been seeing someone quite seriously, from what I gather. Barely leaves her side these days.
That’s why he couldn’t be bothered to attend this meeting. I just thought you knew. ”
The claiming mark on Lyra’s neck burned. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, bristling with territorial rage.
“I’m well aware of Derek’s personal life,” she said evenly. “We have an understanding. ”
“An understanding? ” Victor nodded, not believing her for a second.
“How progressive of you. Especially considering how you reacted when I suggested a similar arrangement. ”
Flynn slammed his hand on the table. “That’s enough.
We’re here to discuss territory, not personal matters. ”
“Of course. ” Victor agreed smoothly. “My apologies, Alpha Wilder.
I didn’t mean to upset you. ”
After Victor and his assistant left, Flynn turned to Lyra. “You okay? ”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, then immediately regretted her tone.
“Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that. ”
That night, alone in her bedroom, Lyra couldn’t stop thinking about what Victor had said. Derek with another woman.
Derek too distracted to attend their meeting. Derek moving on. The images tormented her. Derek’s hands on another woman’s skin.
His mouth on another woman’s lips. Her wolf bristled beneath her skin, territorial and possessive, despite all logical arguments that she had no right to feel this way. Ten minutes later, she was dialing the number for the Westwood estate. “Lyra,” Derek sounded surprised.
“Is everything all right? ”
The sound of his voice sent an unexpected wave of warmth through her. The bond hummed to life, awakening after weeks of dormancy. “The meeting would have gone better if you’d been there,” she said, unable to keep the edge from her tone.
“I’m sorry about that. Something came up. ”
“Someone, you mean? ”
A pause.
“What? ”
“Victor mentioned you’ve been seeing someone. That’s why you couldn’t make it to the meeting. ”
Through the bond, she felt a flicker of something—surprise, guilt.
It was gone before she could identify it. “Victor talks too much,” Derek said finally. “But yes, I’ve been spending time with someone. ”
The confirmation hit Lyra like a physical blow.
“I see. Is it serious? ”
Derek hesitated. “It’s complicated.
There’s potential. ”
“Potential for breaking the curse, you mean? ”
“Yes, but it’s early days yet. ”
Lyra’s grip tightened on the receiver.
She should be happy for him. This was what they’d agreed to. He needed to break the curse, and their mating bond hadn’t worked. Of course he’d look elsewhere.
“I was just thinking,” she said, throat tight. “If things are getting serious with this woman, maybe we should consider breaking our bond soon. ”
Silence stretched between them. Through their bond, she felt his surprise, followed by something that felt almost like hurt.
“All right,” Derek said slowly. “That might not be a bad idea. The timing makes sense. ”
“Great,” Lyra managed.
“I should go. ”
She hung up before he could say anything else. Derek adjusted his tie for the fifth time, studying his reflection. Two hours until midnight.
Two hours until his thirtieth birthday. Two hours until the curse became permanent. He should have broken the bond with Lyra weeks ago. But every time he thought about it, something held him back—some foolish, desperate hope.
The door opened. Isabelle strode in, resplendent in a crimson gown. “Hiding away at your own party? ” she asked.
“I needed a moment. ”
“Well, your moment is over. ” Isabelle crossed to him, pressing a deliberate kiss to his cheek. “Happy almost birthday, handsome.
”
Derek searched desperately for any spark, any connection. There was attraction, certainly. Isabelle was objectively beautiful. But nothing deeper.
“You seem distracted,” Isabelle murmured, her fingers trailing down his chest. “We could be fashionably late, you know. ”
As her lips found his, he kissed her back with deliberate focus, trying to lose himself in the sensation. But all he could think about was Lyra.
Her gray eyes. Her rare smile. Her strength and vulnerability, her dedication to her pack, her stubborn integrity. “You’re still not here with me,” Isabelle said, pulling back with a frown.
“What is it? ”
“Nothing. Just business on my mind. ”
“Well, perhaps we should discuss that as your future Luna.
”
“Is that what this is about? Being Luna? ”
“Of course, that’s part of it. ” Isabelle didn’t bother hiding her ambition.
“And what about me? Do you actually want me, or just the position? ”
Isabelle’s laugh was light but sharp. “Oh, come on, Derek.
At our level, relationships are alliances. Mergers. You know this as well as I do. ”
Something cold settled in Derek’s chest.
“Do you love me? ”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Love? What does that have to do with anything?
”
“Just answer the question. Do you love me? Not my name, not my pack, not my position. Me?
”
Isabelle regarded him with a mixture of confusion and impatience. “We’re compatible. We’re from the right families, and the sex would be fantastic if you’d stop holding back. Isn’t that enough?
”
“It should be. It always has been before. ”
“Then what’s the problem? ” Isabelle stepped closer.
“Let’s formalize things tonight. Break your bond with that backwoods alpha and announce our engagement at your party. ”
Even if he wanted to mate with Isabelle, which he increasingly realized he didn’t, there wasn’t time for a new bond to form before midnight. “I can’t,” he said simply.
“Can’t or won’t? ” Isabelle’s eyes flashed with the first hint of genuine emotion he’d seen from her. “It’s her, isn’t it? You actually have feelings for her.
That little nobody with her pathetic excuse for a pack. ”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Derek warned. “Why not? She’s nothing.
Not wealthy, not powerful, not even pretty by conventional standards. ”
“Stop. You don’t know her. ”
“And you do?
You had a business arrangement. A contract marriage. That’s what you told me. ”
“It’s more complicated than that.
”
“No, it’s very simple. ” Isabelle’s voice turned cutting. “You’re throwing away the chance to ally with my family, my father’s influence, my connections. For what?
Some girl who doesn’t even want you? ”
The words hit too close to home. Derek turned away, moving toward the window. This conversation was over.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Isabelle declared, stepping into his path. “Not until you explain yourself properly. ”
“Move, Isabelle. ”
“No.
”
Derek tried to step around her, but she blocked him again. “What is wrong with you lately? You’ve been different. Distracted.
Weaker, somehow. ”
The word weaker landed like a physical blow. Derek stiffened, his last thread of patience snapping. He was losing this fight, and everyone could see it.
Isabelle shoved him. Not hard by wolf standards. But Derek was barely a wolf anymore. He stumbled backward, his hand striking the corner of his heavy oak desk.
Pain lanced up his arm, sharp and immediate. He gasped, cradling the wrist to his chest as it began to swell. “What the—I barely touched you,” Isabelle’s eyes widened in shock. “Nothing.
I’m fine. ”
Derek backed toward the door, and when she tried to follow, he forced his voice to harden. “Leave. ”
Isabelle froze, hurt flickering across her face before it hardened into anger.
“Fine. Have it your way. But don’t expect me to be waiting when you come to your senses. ”
She stalked out, yanking the door open.
From the corner of his eye, Derek caught movement—several curious onlookers in the corridor, drawn by raised voices. Perfect. Gossip swirling through his birthday party about his fight with Isabelle and his inexplicable injury. He stepped into the hall.
Ahead, the grand staircase curved down toward the main foyer. Music and laughter rose from below. Hundreds of voices celebrating a milestone he dreaded. He veered toward the balcony overlooking the ballroom.
From here, he saw everything. The extravagant decorations. The orchestra. Every detail meticulously curated to display his wealth and power.
The room was packed. Alphas, business titans, political elites, celebrities. Everyone who mattered in their world had come to honor Derek Westwood on his thirtieth birthday. And not one of them truly knew him.
He’d spent millions, invited hundreds, and yet there wasn’t a single person down there who saw the man behind the mask. All this time, he’d had everything—status, admiration, unimaginable wealth—and yet nothing of substance. Nothing real. He glanced at his watch.
One hour and twenty minutes until midnight. With one last look at the glittering illusion, Derek turned from the light, clutching his wrist to his chest, and slipped into the shadows, leaving behind everything he’d ever known. Lyra stood at the edge of the crowded ballroom, a glass of champagne untouched in her hand. “He’s not here,” a voice said behind her.
Lyra turned to find Ryder watching her with an unreadable expression. “What do you mean he’s not here? ” she asked. “It’s his birthday party.
”
“No one’s seen him. Rumor says he and his girlfriend had some kind of argument. Now he’s disappeared. ”
Alarm prickled along Lyra’s spine.
Derek had a fight with his girlfriend. He was about to turn thirty. When he did, his curse would become permanent. “What time is it?
” she asked suddenly. Ryder checked his watch. “Just after eleven. Why?
”
Lyra’s heart raced. Less than an hour until the curse became permanent. “I need to find him,” she said, already moving toward the exit. “Lyra, wait.
”
But Lyra didn’t have time. She closed her eyes, focusing on the bond between them. For weeks it had been muted, distant, both of them deliberately keeping their emotions shielded. But now she opened herself completely.
Derek, she thought, pouring all her worry and determination into the silent call. Where are you? For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, like a candle flickering to life, she felt him.
Pain. Resignation. And beneath it all, a desperate loneliness that made her chest ache. Hold on, she sent through their connection.
I’m coming. She ran from the mansion, ignoring the curious glances of the partygoers. She didn’t head for her car. Instead, she veered toward the dense forest that bordered the Westwood estate, kicking off her heels as she ran.
Once beneath the cover of trees, Lyra gave in to the transformation that had been itching under her skin. Her bones shifted, muscles contracted and expanded, fur rippling across her body as she dropped to all fours. Where a woman in a blue gown stood moments before, a sleek gray wolf now stood. Her senses sharpened instantly.
And there it was—Derek’s scent, distinctive and familiar, carried on the night breeze. He’d passed this way not long ago. Lyra set off at a run, the bond pulling her forward like a compass pointing north. She ran faster than she ever had, desperation lending her speed.
The forest gave way to steeper terrain as she climbed into the foothills, but she didn’t slow. Finally, through a break in the trees, she spotted lights—a modern structure perched on the edge of a cliff. Derek’s car was parked haphazardly in the circular drive. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see a figure silhouetted against the fireplace.
Derek, shoulders slumped in defeat. She shifted back to human form at the edge of the forest, the transformation leaving her naked and shivering in the cool mountain air. She considered her options, then strode forward without hesitation. Some things mattered more than dignity.
The front door was locked. Lyra knocked. When no one answered, she stepped back and slammed her foot against the door beside the lock. The wood splintered with a satisfying crack.
One more kick and the door flew open. Derek sat on the floor, his back against a leather sofa, a crystal tumbler dangling from his fingers. His tuxedo jacket was discarded, his tie loosened, his hair disheveled. “You’re too late,” he said without turning.
“It’s done. ”
Lyra’s eyes darted to the ornate clock on the mantel. Seven minutes past midnight. Her heart sank.
She was too late. The curse had taken hold. Grabbing a coat by the door to cover herself, Lyra moved closer. “Derek,” she began.
“Don’t. ” His voice was flat, empty. “Just don’t. ”
When he finally turned to face her, Lyra’s breath caught.
The vibrant blue of his eyes seemed dimmer somehow. The natural predatory grace that always defined him was muted. “You should go. There’s nothing for you here anymore.
” His left wrist was still swollen and bruised, cradled protectively against his chest. “That’s not true. ” Lyra knelt beside him. “Derek, look at me.
”
He did reluctantly, and the raw pain in his expression made her heart ache. “Are you human? ” she asked softly. Derek laughed bitterly, lifting his injured wrist.
“What gave it away? ”
“It’s going to be okay. I’ll help you. ”
Derek pulled back sharply.
“By this time tomorrow, someone will have challenged for my territory. I’ll lose. How could I not? I can’t even shift anymore.
My pack, my position, everything I’ve built and inherited. Gone. ”
“Then we’ll start over,” Lyra said firmly. “Together.
”
Derek’s eyes widened in momentary surprise before narrowing again. “There is no we, Lyra. Not anymore. ”
“What are you talking about?
”
“I’m releasing you from our bond. The agreement is void. You’re free to go back to your pack, find a proper mate. ”
Anger flared in Lyra’s chest.
“That’s not your decision to make. ”
“Yes, it is. Our arrangement was business, remember? Well, I can no longer uphold my end.
I can’t protect your pack. ”
“That’s not why I’m here. ”
“Isn’t it? You chose me for my resources.
Now I couldn’t even live amongst your people. ”
“I don’t care, Derek. Please, just let me help. ”
“I know our world,” Derek’s voice softened.
“I know what happens to the weak. And I won’t drag you down with me. ”
Lyra studied him for a long moment, understanding washing over her. This wasn’t just about his pride.
He was trying to protect her, to spare her from what he perceived as a burden. Without warning, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Derek froze beneath her touch. For one breathless moment, neither of them moved.
Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he responded, his good hand coming up to cradle her face with surprising gentleness. The connection between them flared—their bond, dormant for weeks, suddenly humming with renewed vigor. When they finally broke apart, Derek’s eyes remained closed. “What are you doing?
” he asked, voice rough. “I choose you,” Lyra said simply. “Human or wolf, powerful or not. ”
Derek’s eyes snapped open, disbelief warring with hope in his gaze.
“Don’t be ridiculous. ”
“No, you are being ridiculous. I’ve been miserable without you, Derek. I tried to tell myself it was just the bond, just biology.
But it’s more than that. It always has been. ”
“No, it’s not. This is just the bond talking.
You’ll find a better mate. ”
“I don’t want a better mate. I want you. ”
Derek looked away.
“You don’t mean that. ”
“Yes, I do. ” She took a deep breath. “I love you, Derek.
Not your money. Not your power. You. ”
Derek stared at her, clearly struggling to process her words.
Through their bond, she felt his tumultuous emotions—hope, fear, longing, and beneath it all, a crushing sense of unworthiness. “It doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “I don’t deserve you, Lyra. I never did.
”
“That’s not a no,” Lyra observed. “Do you love me, Derek? ”
He looked away. “It doesn’t matter.
”
“It matters to me. ” Her hand found his chin, gently turning his face back toward her. “Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you don’t want this.
If you can do that, I’ll walk away right now and never look back. ”
Derek opened his mouth, then closed it again, conflict evident in his expression. “I thought so,” Lyra whispered. “Now shut up and kiss me.
”
For a moment, she thought he might refuse. Then something broke in his expression, and he surged forward, capturing her lips with his own. This kiss was different—desperate, hungry, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her before she disappeared. When they broke apart, both breathless, Derek rested his forehead against hers.
“Of course I love you,” he admitted, voice cracking with emotion. “Which is precisely why I have to let you go. You deserved better when I had everything to offer you, and you definitely deserve better now that I have nothing to give. I will not trap you in a useless bond with a deadbeat.
”
Lyra silenced him with another kiss, pouring all her love, all her certainty into their connection. The bond between them pulsed, warming and strengthening with each passing second. Suddenly, Derek gasped, pulling back sharply. “What?
” Lyra asked, alarmed. “What’s wrong? ”
He wasn’t looking at her, but at his injured wrist. Before her eyes, the swelling seemed to be receding, the bruising fading from angry purple to yellow to nothing at all.
“Derek,” she prompted, heart racing. “It’s healing,” he whispered, flexing his fingers experimentally. “I don’t understand. It was supposed to be too late.
”
“What if it wasn’t about finding a mate before you turned thirty? ” Lyra suggested slowly. “What if it was about finding someone who truly loves you? And that just needed to happen before the curse became permanent?
”
Derek didn’t let her finish. He captured her lips in a kiss so intense it stole her breath, his arms wrapping around her with newfound strength. “You’re insane,” he murmured against her mouth. “Completely insane for choosing me despite everything.
”
“I know,” Lyra agreed, smiling against his lips. “But someone had to love you enough to break that stupid curse. ”
Derek laughed, the sound unburdened and genuine in a way she’d never heard from him before. His forehead rested against hers, the bond between them humming with a contentment she didn’t know was possible.
“Happy birthday, Derek,” Lyra whispered, nestling closer as the clock ticked well past midnight into a new day. “Best one yet,” he replied, his arms secure around her. Outside, the moon shone bright over the mountains, bathing the world in silver light. Inside, two wolves who found each other against all odds rested in each other’s arms.
Their futures no longer bound by curses or contracts, but by the most ancient and powerful magic of all—love, freely given and freely returned.
