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Then she packed her camera. A cloth-wrapped bundle. A pouch of berries and dried honeyed roots. A treat for an old friend she hadn't visited in too long.

She slipped out the door before he woke.

Chapter 40

Hagan

Hagan woke with sunlight brushing across his face, warm and golden—but something was missing. Again.

It had been days since he'd seen Seren in the daylight. Days since he'd heard her laugh or caught the scent of her skin as she leaned over a simmering pan. Her absence crept into him like a draft through a door left ajar. But still, the bond thrummed within him, deeper and louder each day—a call for consummation, for blood, for union.

Draken had kept him busy, piling on responsibility, pushing him harder. And Hagan had risen to the challenge. Just yesterday, he'd bested his father in a sparring session, locking him into a submission hold that made the old wolf tap out.

He could feel his father's pride echoing through the tribelink. He was becoming everything he'd once dreamed of.

And Lia—steady, tireless Lia—had been by his side through it all. His right hand. His second wind.

He rubbed his face, rolled out of bed, and caught the smell of food.

A soft stack of golden slices of bread still sat warm on the table beside a pot of fragrant yellow curry. The spiced potatoes inside were soft and buttery, perfumed with mustard seeds, ginger, and curry leaves. She'd kept it covered, wrapped in a cotton cloth. As always.

He sighed.

Today, he promised himself. Today I'll come home early.

He ate quickly, barely tasting it. The bond tugged harder with every heartbeat, every memory of her skin against his. His body burned for her now, with a pull that felt ancient. But even as his hunger for Seren gnawed at him, a strange unease clung to his thoughts—like something in the edge of his peripheral vision that he couldn't quite see.

Still, he pushed the feeling aside.

The longhouse was busy when he arrived, but he barely noticed. He moved through the corridors with purpose, nodding to scouts and enforcers before entering his office.

Lia was already there. Since that last kiss in the woods, they had settled down into good friends. And yet, sometimes her gaze made him uncomfortable.

Papers were strewn across the desk, maps half-rolled, a steaming pot of tea between them. They worked all afternoon—training schedules, scout routes, meeting requests. They were efficient. In sync. Familiar.

By evening, they were both slouched in their chairs, tension bleeding into fatigue. He leaned back with a groan. She laughed softly and sat on the arm of his chair.

"You remember that time we were caught sneaking into the sacred pool during the full moon?" she asked. Her voice was warm, edged in nostalgia.

He chuckled. "You pushed me in."

"You deserved it."

They were quiet for a moment.

Then she asked it—softly, breaking the hush.

"What happened to us, Hagan?"

He blinked.

"I mean... one day, you were mine. The next, you weren't." Her voice broke slightly, her fingers curling over his shoulder. "I know... I've been trying to move on. I am. But it still hurts. You broke my heart."

He exhaled, shifting under her hand. "Lia... there's someone out there who's right for you. Someone who'll see you for everything you are."

"Yeah?" she whispered. "You used to say that about me."

Before he could reply, her lips were on his. Familiar. Demanding. And before he registered what was happening, she was straddling him, her hands sliding up under his shirt, her mouth hot and coaxing.