POV - James
The morning unfolded with quiet precision — the kind of order that usually calmed me. Meetings, calls, briefings, reports.
Everything where it should be.
Except my focus.
Every time I tried to read a document, my mind drifted back to Elena. The curve of her smile over coffee, the scent of her hair against my skin last night, the way she'd looked half-asleep when I'd kissed her shoulder before leaving the house.
I'd never been distracted like this — not by anyone.
And yet, every second away from her felt like I was missing something vital.
From the glass wall of my office, I could see her at her desk — focused, efficient, her expression calm as she read through files.
I'd told her she didn't need to be here today. She'd insisted.
"Normal," she'd said this morning, buttoning her silk blouse with that quiet determination that always undid me.
"I just want a normal day."
If only she knew there was nothing normal about her.
By noon, I gave up pretending to work.
Lucian stepped into my office without knocking — as usual.
He dropped a file on my desk and raised an eyebrow. "You've been staring at that glass wall for ten minutes. Need me to call HR for harassment?"
I shot him a look. "Careful, Beta."
He smirked. "You're predictable when you're in love."
I leaned back in my chair. "I'm predictable when I don't sleep."
"Right," he said dryly. "Because she was definitely keeping you awake in a purely innocent way."
I didn't rise to the bait — mostly because he was right.
Lucian chuckled under his breath. "Anyway. There's the matter of the Morrow Estate event tonight."
I frowned. "That's tonight?"
He nodded. "Formal. Council-affiliated. It's for my engagement, remember? You promised to show face."
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Right. The engagement party."
He studied me for a beat. "You'll bring her?"
"Yes."
Lucian's brow arched. "You sure that's wise?"
"She's my mate, Lucian. The pack will know sooner or later."
"That's not what I meant." His voice softened, losing its edge. "Victoria will be there."
My jaw tightened.
"She can try whatever she wants," I said evenly. "It won't matter."
Lucian gave a small, knowing smile. "Still, you might warn your Luna. She's strong — but she's not used to wolf politics yet."
"I'll handle it."
"Of course you will," he said with that Beta's half-grin. "Just don't start a diplomatic incident if Victoria decides to play her games."
"I'll start whatever I damn well please."
By mid-afternoon, I found myself downstairs, standing by the HR office door before I'd even decided why.
She looked up when I knocked lightly against the frame. "James," she said, smiling — polite, professional. The kind of smile that barely hid the spark in her eyes.
"Busy?" I asked.
"Always," she said, setting down her pen. "But not too busy for you."
That shouldn't have done what it did to me. My pulse picked up like I'd just been challenged in a fight.
I stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
She looked beautiful in her simple cream blouse and high-waisted charcoal skirt, her hair pulled loosely back, a few strands falling over her temple.
It was maddening — that elegance she carried without trying.
"There's an event tonight," I said finally. "Formal. At the Morrow Estate. Lucian's engagement party."
Her eyes brightened. "Oh. That sounds… important."
"It is. And I want you there with me."
She blinked, a flush rising in her cheeks. "With you?"
"Yes, Elena. With me."
For a heartbeat, her composure faltered — and the wolf in me stirred, wanting to pull her against me, to mark her again, to let the world know exactly who she belonged to.
But this was my office floor. The glass walls made restraint a necessity.
She hesitated, biting her lip — a small, unconscious motion that drove reason straight out of my skull. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly. "About me going?"
I took a step closer. "You're my partner. There's nothing I'm more sure about."
Our eyes locked. The air between us shifted.
For a second, the noise of the office — the phones, the keyboards, the world — simply vanished.
Her breath caught.
Mine did too.
I reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was brief — but electric.
Her pulse leapt beneath her skin.
"I'll pick you up at eight," I said softly.
She nodded, barely finding her voice. "Okay."
I smiled, unable to resist lowering my voice to a whisper. "Wear something that'll make me lose my mind."
Her cheeks turned pink. "Then you'll have to define the limit first."
I grinned — low, dangerous. "There isn't one."
As I left her office, Lucian's voice echoed in my head.
Victoria will be there.
Good.
Let her be.
Let everyone see.
Tonight, I wasn't bringing a date.
I was bringing my future.
…
The office emptied slowly after six, the fluorescent lights dimming one by one, leaving only the soft amber hue of the city spilling through the windows.
I stood at the edge of my office, jacket over my arm, phone in hand.
Eight o'clock.
That's when I'd see her again.
She'd gone home to get ready — her own place, a few streets away from the park, the one she never let me fully invade. Her sanctuary. Her space.
She'd smiled as she left, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.
And for the first time that day, my world had felt quiet.
Lucian's voice still echoed in my head, half amusement, half warning.
Victoria will be there.
Good. Let her watch.
But under that thought, something else stirred — a scent I couldn't name, faint but undeniable, still lingering in the air long after Elena had gone.
It wasn't perfume.
It was something warmer, more primal.
Life.
My wolf shifted restlessly, pressing against the edges of my control.
You smell it too, I thought.
The answer came in a low rumble inside my mind.
Yes. She's changing.
I swallowed hard, staring out at the skyline.
Changing. Growing. Becoming.
The possibility sent a strange heat through my chest — part fear, part wonder, all love.
By the time I arrived home, the night was already draping itself over the estate like silk.
I showered, dressed, and tried to quiet my thoughts.
Tried being the key word.
The reflection that looked back at me from the mirror was composed — the perfect image of Alpha, of control:
Black tailored suit, sharp lines, a dark waistcoat instead of a tie. The faintest glint of silver at my cufflinks — a gift from my mother, the Ashford crest etched into them.
Hair neatly styled back, the wolf still simmering beneath the surface, restless and alert.
But inside, I was anything but calm.
Eight.
Almost eight.
I stepped outside to the car, the driver already waiting by the gate.
"No driver tonight," I told him. "I'll drive."
The man nodded once, wordless, and handed me the keys.
I needed the control.
The speed.
The silence.
The city lights blurred as I drove through the main roads, the hum of the engine steady beneath my hands.
Every second closer to her felt heavier — anticipation wound tight with something deeper.
That scent again. Warm. Alive.
It made my chest ache in ways I couldn't explain.
When I finally turned into her street, I slowed down instinctively.
Her building stood bathed in the amber glow of the streetlamps, elegant but modest. I parked outside, stepped out, and leaned against the car, hands in my pockets.
Then I saw her.
The front door opened, and she appeared — and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
Elena Dorne. My mate. My Luna.
She wore a gown of midnight blue, the kind of color that devoured the light and gave it back as starlight. The fabric hugged her body, subtle and devastating, falling in liquid folds that shimmered when she moved.
Her hair was pinned up loosely, strands falling to frame her face in soft waves, catching the glow of the streetlight.
Diamond drops hung from her ears, delicate but bright.
Her lips were painted a muted rose, her eyes lined in gold.
And for a moment, all I could do was stare.
The wolf inside me went utterly still.
Mine, it breathed, reverent.
She hesitated at the top of the stairs, clutching a small black clutch in her hands. When she saw me waiting, she smiled — shy, luminous.
"Hi," she said softly.
It wasn't enough. No word could have been.
I crossed the distance between us in three strides.
"Hi?" I echoed, my voice rougher than I intended. "That's all I get?"
Her smile widened, nervous and teasing all at once. "You look… unfairly good."
I laughed quietly, sliding a hand around her waist, letting my thumb brush against the small of her back. The fabric of her gown was cool beneath my fingers, her warmth burning through it.
"So do you," I murmured. "You're going to make the entire room forget why they came."
"Lucian's engagement," she reminded me, laughing softly.
"Right," I said. "That."
Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment I nearly kissed her right there, in front of her building.
But I settled for offering my arm. "Shall we?"
She slipped her hand through the crook of my elbow, and together we walked toward the car.
The drive to the Morrow Estate took forty minutes.
Outside, the world blurred into silver and black — moonlight glinting off rooftops, the forested edges of the Ashbourne valley stretching beyond the horizon.
Inside the car, silence hummed between us — not empty, but charged.
Every now and then, I'd glance at her.
The soft curve of her neck, the faint rise and fall of her breathing, the way her hand rested on her thigh, fingers tapping lightly to an unheard rhythm.
At one point, I reached out, took her hand in mine, and brought it to my lips.
Her breath caught.
"You're nervous," I said.
"Maybe a little."
"Don't be. You're the Luna, whether they know it or not."
She looked at me then, a quiet strength in her eyes that made my heart twist. "You make me believe that."
"You should," I said simply. "Because it's true."
We drove the rest of the way like that — her hand in mine, the bond between us thrumming beneath the surface like a heartbeat shared.
When the estate came into view, the night opened up into opulence.
Tall iron gates flanked by lanterns, a long driveway bordered by white roses and torchlight, the distant murmur of strings and laughter echoing across the manicured lawns.
The mansion itself rose like something out of an old painting — all glass, marble, and shadow, glowing gold from within.
I parked near the entrance, stepped out, and came around to open her door.
She placed her hand in mine, stepping into the night — and every head at the valet station turned.
I could feel their eyes.
Recognition. Curiosity. Respect.
And envy.
Elena felt it too. Her fingers tightened briefly on mine.
I leaned close, my voice a whisper against her ear. "Ignore them."
She looked up, smiling faintly. "I'm not scared, James."
"I know," I said. "But they should be."
Inside, the ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and candlelight.
Gold and ivory, crystal and velvet, the faint scent of wine and roses in the air.
Laughter, conversation, the rustle of silk and the echo of polished shoes.
And then — Victoria.
Standing near the far end of the hall, in a scarlet gown that left little to the imagination, glass of champagne in hand, her smile too sweet to be sincere.
Her eyes found us immediately.
"Ah," Lucian muttered under his breath as he approached, perfectly timed. "Brace yourself."
I didn't even turn. My focus stayed on Elena, who stood radiant beside me — calm, proud, beautiful.
If Victoria wanted a war, she'd find no weakness here.
I tightened my hold on Elena's hand and guided her into the golden light of the ballroom.
"Let them look," I murmured. "Let them all see."
And they did.