Page 15

Adrian

The gala is a masterpiece, just as I'd hoped. The ballroom glows with candlelight, crystal chandeliers casting prismatic shadows across marble floors. The air hums with conversation—supernatural leaders from across the region gathered under one roof. Werewolves, vampires, witches, and fae, all mingling in a rare show of unity.

From my vantage point near the balcony, I scan the crowd, my senses tuned for any sign of trouble. The memory of the hunter attack still lingers, a dark presence lurking beneath the polished surface of the event. Security is tight—Sawyer made damn sure of it. But tonight isn’t about fear. It’s about progress.

Theo stands near the entrance, deep in discussion with Sawyer, no doubt talking security expansions. Lucien D’Arcy lounges by the bar, swirling a glass of blood-infused wine, watching the room with his usual brand of amused detachment. He catches my eye and lifts his glass in a silent toast. I ignore him.

“I’ll never get used to this,” Eli mutters as he joins me, adjusting the stiff collar of his dress shirt. He looks vaguely uncomfortable in formal attire, but at least he made the effort.

I arch a brow. “Used to what?”

“This,” he gestures broadly. “Dancing, small talk, pretending we’re civilized creatures.”

I smirk. “You’re the one who insisted on attending.”

He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Had to see it for myself. You, of all people, hosting a damn gala. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re starting to enjoy this whole community-building thing.”

I don’t dignify that with a response, but Eli’s grin only widens. His eyes flick toward the crowd, then back to me. “You’re not a lone wolf anymore, you know.”

The words settle like a weight in my chest. Not unwelcome. Just… unfamiliar.

Before I can respond, something catches Eli’s attention—a flicker of movement near one of the grand columns at the edge of the ballroom. A small girl, barely more than a shadow, peeking out from behind the pillar.

Eli frowns. “Were kids invited to this thing?”

“No.”

He sighs, already moving toward her. “I’ll take care of it.”

"Eli." He pauses, glancing back. "Everything alright?"

A shadow crosses his face—gone so quickly I might have imagined it. "Always is." He flashes his trademark grin, but there's something different in his eyes. "Go find your mate, Adrian. Some of us have more important things to deal with than fancy parties."

I watch him disappear into the crowd, noting the way he approaches the girl with careful, measured steps. There's a story there—one he's not ready to tell.

But my thoughts are already drifting elsewhere. To Maya.

I find her near a candlelit table, deep emerald dress hugging her curves, her amber eyes glowing with warmth as she speaks with Olivia. Her laughter carries across the room, pulling me in like a gravitational force. The sight of her still hits me like a physical blow—this fierce, beautiful woman who crashed through every wall I built.

I close the distance between us, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. Her scent—lavender and pine—fills my senses. "You're the most beautiful thing in this room."

Maya hums, leaning back against my chest. "Flattery, Mr. Blackwell? I must have done a great job on this event if you're this charming."

I press my lips to her bare shoulder, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch. "You did more than a great job. You made this possible."

She turns in my arms, resting her hands against my chest. The candlelight catches the amber flecks in her eyes, making them glow like molten gold. "You sound almost sentimental."

"Don't push it." But there's no bite in my words, not anymore. Not with her.

Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, sending electricity through my veins. "Admit it—you're proud of what we've built here."

I cup her face in my hands, studying the fierce determination in her eyes, the slight upturn of her lips that never fails to undo me. "I'm proud of you."

For years, I built Blackwell Corporation to protect others. To create order in a world that had stolen everything from me. But I never let myself belong anywhere.

Until her.

Maya is still fiercely independent, still determined to carve out her own path. But she's done it with someone who doesn't hold her back—someone who walks beside her.

I slide my hand up her back, fingers tangling in the soft curls at the nape of her neck. Her breath hitches as I pull her closer, our foreheads touching. The world narrows to just this—her warmth, her scent, the way she fits against me like she was made to be here.

"I told you I wouldn't let you push me away," she whispers, her lips brushing mine.

"And I told you I'd never let anything happen to you." My voice is rough with emotion I once thought myself incapable of feeling.

When I kiss her, it's slow and deep, a promise sealed in the space between heartbeats. She melts into me, one hand gripping my lapel while the other slides into my hair. In this moment, surrounded by candlelight and the quiet hum of celebration, I know with bone-deep certainty that whatever battles come next, we'll face them together.

The lone wolf has finally found his pack.