Page 4

Not because she was wrong. But because she wasn’t. Not one damn bit.

He didn’t know what Calla had been thinking about assigning this woman, thiswitchto his command center.

“I’m Lyra, by the way.” She stuck her hand out like they weren’t practically circling each other. “Full name Lyra Ravenshade. Chaos witch. Muffin enthusiast. Mildly good at filing.”

He didn’t take her hand. Couldn’t. Touching her felt… dangerous.

She dropped it with a shrug. “Suit yourself.”

He watched her turn back to her scrolls, the sway of her skirt, the faint golden glow under her skin when she wasn’t focused on hiding it.

Chaos witch.

He'd read the file. Knew she’d left her coven up north under strained circumstances. But the details were vague. A “portal incident” and “unauthorized transfiguration.” He'd dismissed her initially, too unpredictable, too messy for his meticulous world. But he had needed someone and Calla had vouched for her.

And now, he had a bigger problem.

Because Lyra Ravenshade was his mate.

And he couldn’t claim her.

The town didn’t need a distracted alpha. The pack didn’t need drama. He didn’t need… feelings.

She looked over her shoulder at him, grinning like she knew something he didn’t.

He clenched his jaw. “Stay out of the north wing. That’s for senior pack members only.”

She saluted. “Roger that, Alpha Grumbles.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did you just call me?”

“I said I’ll keep to the west wing.”

She smirked. He scowled.

And the wolf inside himpurred.

3

LYRA

Lyra had never known a town to sigh contentedly in its sleep, but Celestial Pines did just that.

She could hear it in the soft rustle of the Whispering Woods when the wind curled down through the pines, and in the way the cobblestone streets exhaled warmth in the early morning, chasing the mist like a sleepy yawn. Even the mailboxes here hummed when touched, like they were happy to be included in someone’s daily routine.

“Enchanting little bubble,” Lyra muttered as she padded down Main Street in a pair of cherry-red boots that sparkled slightly every time her heel hit the ground. “Feels like I stepped into a dream that’s had way too much chamomile tea.”

Beside her,Milo the talking cattrotted with an infuriating sense of purpose. Black fur sleek, emerald eyes narrowed in that perpetually judgmental way that made him look like he’d been inconvenienced by existence itself.

“I’m just saying,” Lyra added, side-eyeing him, “you could’ve warned me that the mayor is actually a dryad who grows petunias when she’s lying.”

“I thought it was obvious,” Milo said, his voice crisp and vaguely British. “Also, I’m not your tour guide.”

“You followed me out of the office.”

“You smelled like lemon mist and confusion. I was intrigued.”

Lyra grinned. She couldn’t help it. Two days in, and Celestial Pines already had her heart dancing on tiptoe. It wasn’t perfect, Jace Montgomery still glared at her like she was a misplaced hex but it wastheirs, this strange, magical town with its gossiping shopkeepers and coffee that tasted like memories.