Luca's POV
The fourth morning of captivity, I wake to sunlight streaming through barred windows and Rian's absence.
For the first time since he brought me here, I'm alone. Truly alone. The door stands open—unlocked, unguarded. A test, obviously. But I don't care.
I dress quickly in the clothes he provided—soft jeans, a gray sweater that smells like him—and step into the hallway. My heart pounds. Any moment, guards will appear. They'll drag me back.
Nothing happens.
I descend the grand staircase, fingers trailing along polished wood. The mansion is massive—stone and timber, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking endless forest. Beautiful. Isolated. Perfect prison.
Voices echo from a room ahead. I freeze, but curiosity pulls me forward.
The door is cracked open. I peer through.
Rian sits at a massive desk, surrounded by other men—werewolves, I assume. They're discussing territory disputes, supply routes, things I don't understand. But I'm transfixed by him.
He looks different here. Powerful. Commanding. Every man in that room defers to him instantly. This is an Alpha in his element.
"The eastern border needs reinforcement," one man says. "Kaine's pack has been testing our defenses."
Rian's jaw tightens. "Double the patrols. I want scouts reporting every six hours." His eyes flash amber. "And if Kaine's wolves cross our line, kill them. No warnings."
"What about your mate?" another asks. "Word has spread. Other packs know you've claimed a human. They'll see it as weakness."
"Let them try." Rian's voice drops to a lethal growl. "Anyone who touches Luca dies screaming. Make sure every pack knows that."
The absolute certainty in his voice sends shivers down my spine. He means it. He'd slaughter anyone who threatened me.
I should be horrified. Instead, something warm unfurls in my chest.
"Enjoying eavesdropping?"
I spin. A tall man with amber eyes and a knowing smile stands behind me. He's built like a fighter, handsome in a dangerous way.
"I wasn't—"
"You were." He extends his hand. "Damon. Beta of this pack. Which makes me your second-in-command, Luna."
"Don't call me that."
"It's what you are. The Alpha's mate. Our Luna." His smile widens. "Even if you're still fighting it."
"I didn't choose this."
"No. But you're here." He gestures down the hallway. "Come. Let me show you around. Unless you'd rather continue spying on pack meetings?"
I follow because there's nothing else to do.
Damon leads me through the mansion, pointing out rooms—the kitchen (massive, professional-grade), the library (thousands of books), the training room (weapons and mats), the art studio.
I stop. "Art studio?"
"Rian had it prepared for you." Damon opens the door, revealing a sun-drenched space filled with easels, canvases, paints, brushes—everything an artist could dream of. "He knows you paint. Wanted you to have your own space."
I step inside, touching the supplies with trembling fingers. "When did he do this?"
"Last night. Had pack members working until dawn." Damon leans against the doorframe. "He's trying, you know. In his own fucked-up way."
"He kidnapped me."
"He claimed his mate. In our world, that's different."
"In my world, it's a felony."
Damon chuckles. "Fair point." He sobers. "Look, I'm not saying he handled this right. He didn't. But Rian's not a monster. He's desperate. Terrified. The last person he loved died because he wasn't strong enough to protect them. Now he has you, and he's so fucking scared of losing you that he's making all the wrong choices."
"He told you that?"
"Didn't have to. I've known Rian for twenty years. Never seen him like this." Damon meets my eyes. "He loves you, Luca. Genuinely. Not just the bond. You."
"He doesn't know me."
"He knows enough. And he wants to know more. If you let him."
Before I can respond, Rian appears in the doorway. His eyes find mine immediately, relief flooding his expression.
"You're exploring."
"You left the door open."
"I told you—no more locked rooms." He approaches slowly, like I'm a skittish animal. "Do you like the studio?"
I want to throw it in his face. Tell him art supplies don't make up for imprisonment. But it's thoughtful. Personal. He actually listened to what I needed.
"It's... nice," I admit quietly.
His smile is devastating. "Paint something for me?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to understand you. How you see the world." He reaches out, tucking hair behind my ear. The gesture is tender. Intimate. "Please?"
I should refuse. Maintain distance. But Damon's words echo in my head. He's trying.
"Maybe," I say.
It's not a yes. But it's not a no either.
Rian's eyes light up like I've given him everything.