Olivia

I woke up feeling… warm. Warm and blissful, a soft, lazy contentment curling through me like a cozy, sunlit blanket. The sheets were a tangled mess around me, the faint scent of him still lingering on the pillow beside me—cedar, wild earth, something darker, something that made my heart race. My body ached in all the best ways, a dull, delicious soreness that left me grinning like an idiot.

Even my stupid wolf seemed happy, lounging in the back of my mind with a satisfied sigh, her head resting on her paws, a faint, smug smile curling at her lips. A warm, sleepy glow that I wanted to hold on to.

But the bed beside me was empty.

My heart twisted, a faint, bitter ache slipping beneath the lazy warmth. I shoved it down, pulling the sheets tighter around me, letting out a long, slow breath. I was being ridiculous. Of course he wasn’t here. That was the deal—fun, wild, reckless, but not permanent. Not real.

A folded piece of paper on the nightstand caught my eye, and I snatched it up, the sharp, slanted letters unmistakably his.

“Flowers are ready. Went to load the van. See you at breakfast. —A”

I stared at the note, a faint, ridiculous smile tugging at my lips. He was just… Adrian. Predictable, infuriating, and somehow always exactly where I needed him.

I dragged myself out of bed, wincing as the sweet, aching soreness flared, a fresh rush of heat coloring my cheeks. Gods, I’d never felt like that before—wild, desperate, like I was losing myself and finding myself all at once. Like I could tear him apart, devour him, and never get enough.

Shaking off the blush, I dressed quickly—black jeans, a faded band tee I dug out of my bag, and a quick, messy ponytail that did little to hide the faint mark on my neck. The one I should have been furious about. The one I couldn’t stop smiling at.

The inn was a rustic, charming little place—warm wooden walls, beams crisscrossing the low ceilings, soft, floral curtains fluttering in the open windows. A cozy dining room with a handful of round, wooden tables, each set with delicate, mismatched china.

Breakfast was laid out on a long, buffet-style table—fluffy scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, freshly baked croissants, a pile of golden pancakes drizzled with syrup, and a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice. My stomach growled, and I grabbed a plate, piling it high, my mood brightening with every bite.

The door swung open, a warm, sunlit breeze sweeping in, and there he was—Adrian, his tall, broad figure cutting a perfect silhouette against the golden light. His dark hair was tousled, his shirt clinging to his chest, and a faint smudge of dirt stained the white fabric.

“Did you decide to wrestle the flowers yourself?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

A slow, crooked smile spread across his lips. “Just making sure we had the best ones. Wouldn’t want your sister’s big day to be anything less than perfect.”

“Oh, how noble.” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms, a faint, wicked grin tugging at my lips. “My hero, covered in dirt, smelling like a freshly plowed field.”

“Charming.” He stepped closer, and I caught the faint, wild scent of him beneath the warm, earthy musk, and gods, it made my heart race all over again.

“I bought you something,” he announced, reaching into his back pocket, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

I frowned, leaning forward. “Adrian, I told you I don’t need your money. I’m not in… whatever this is… for your fancy gifts.”

“Oh, I know.” His grin widened, and he pulled out a small, plastic-wrapped package. “Which is why I didn’t spend a fortune. This is a souvenir from the farm’s gift shop.”

I snatched the package from his hand, already rolling my eyes, but the second I tore the plastic, I froze.

It was a watch. A cheap, plastic watch in the most obnoxious combination of lavender and pink I’d ever seen. The kind of thing a twelve-year-old girl would wear to school, complete with glittery flowers on the strap.

“You…” I looked up at him, and he was grinning, that dark, wicked smile that made my stomach twist in the best way. “Are you serious?”

“You’re always late,” he shrugged, folding his arms, leaning against the table. “Thought you could use some help keeping track of your time.”

I laughed, a wild, sharp sound that drew a few curious glances from the other guests. “This is… this is hideous.”

“But functional. And now you have no excuse.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur. “Wouldn’t want you losing track of time and missing out on our… arrangements.”

“Oh, please. Like you’d let me miss anything.” I shook my head, slipping the ridiculous watch onto my wrist, the glittery strap a perfect, absurd contrast against my black jeans.

“Exactly.” His voice softened, a faint, warm light in his eyes. “I’d never let you miss a thing.”

A flutter of something warm and treacherous twisted in my chest, but I buried it beneath a roll of my eyes. “Well, now I have a stylish, sophisticated way to be on time. I’m sure Sophie will be jealous.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He leaned back, grabbing a plate and helping himself to breakfast. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you, oh noble Alpha, for blessing me with such… elegance.” I lifted my wrist, wiggling the glittery, ridiculous watch at him.

“Glad you appreciate it.” He shot me a grin, and for a moment, the world felt warm and bright, the slow, lazy comfort of the inn wrapping around us, the distant buzz of conversation, the scent of fresh flowers drifting in through the open window.

And beneath it all, the soft, steady ache in my chest—the quiet, treacherous truth I refused to acknowledge. That I liked this. Liked his smile, his teasing, the wild, electric thrill that pulsed between us.

And gods, that was dangerous.

Adrian sipped his coffee, his gaze steady, calm, but I didn’t miss the faint, wicked smile tugging at his lips. “If in two or three weeks, you’re ready to accept actual gifts from me, I’ll get you a real watch.”

I nearly choked on my croissant, the airy, buttery pastry catching in my throat. “Two or three weeks?” I laughed, but it came out shaky, a little too forced. “I’ll be gone by then.”

“No, you won’t.” His voice was calm, certain, and that smile didn’t waver.

“Adrian.” I forced a laugh, shaking my head, my fingers toying with the ridiculous, glittery watch on my wrist. “We’ve known each other for a few days. A few wild, chaotic days, sure. But that’s all it is. I’m here for Sophie’s wedding, and then I’m gone.”

He leaned back, his gaze never leaving mine, the warm, golden light spilling through the window catching on the sharp, dark lines of his face. “Is that what you want? For this to end?”

“I—” My voice caught, a sharp, painful twist in my chest. “That’s not the point. The point is… this is just… it’s hot, it’s wild, the sex is great—”

“You forgot mind-blowing.” He smirked.

“Fine. Mind-blowing. ” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide the faint, desperate shake in my voice. “But it’s not… it’s not real. I’m still married.”

“To a human.” His voice was steady, but I saw the faint, dangerous spark in his eyes. “That means nothing to me.”

“It should.” I leaned forward, the teasing edge slipping away. “Because it would mean the world to you if they saw you as a weak Alpha who takes a reckless Zeta as his mate.”

His jaw tightened, just slightly, but he didn’t look away. “See? You already know me so well.”

“Yes. I do.” I forced myself to keep going, even as the sharp, aching tension twisted in my chest. “But you don’t know me.”

His expression shifted, the lazy, teasing warmth fading, replaced by something sharper, something cold and focused. “I know you hate this pack, but you feel out of place anywhere else. I know that whoever that human was, you loved him with all your heart, and it destroyed you when he broke your trust.”

My breath caught, the soft, easy warmth of the room turning heavy, suffocating. “Adrian—”

“I know Nothing Else Matters is your favorite song,” he continued, his voice low, steady, relentless. “Because I caught you crying to it. Twice.”

“Once.” I forced a sharp, defensive laugh. “You saw me once.”

“No. Once in your hotel room, and once in the car yesterday, when your playlist was on shuffle. You teared up the moment it started, and you skipped it so fast I almost didn’t catch it.”

“I… that was—”

“It triggers a memory of you and him. Doesn’t it?”

I froze, the air catching in my lungs, my fingers tightening around the edge of my mug.

His gaze stayed locked on mine, sharp, unyielding. “Right?”

I swallowed, the warm, sweet taste of the coffee turning bitter on my tongue. “We… we met at a concert. That song was playing. It was the first time I… I thought I found something real. Someone who saw me.”

“And he betrayed you.” Adrian’s voice softened, but it didn’t lose that fierce, relentless focus. “Broke you.”

“I’m not broken.” The words slipped out, sharp, defensive, but I heard the faint, desperate ache in them.

“Aren’t you?” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “I know you try to laugh everything off. I know you mock the pack, mock the rules, because you never felt like you belonged. I know you pretend you don’t care, but you do. More than anyone.”

“Stop.” My voice trembled, the ache in my chest twisting, sharp and fierce.

“I know you let your mom’s words tear you apart because some twisted part of you still wants her approval, even though you know you’ll never get it.” His voice was a low, fierce whisper, each word cutting, relentless. “I know you keep pretending that this is just fun, just chaos, because you’re terrified of letting anyone close enough to hurt you again.”

“Adrian—”

“And I know that when you look at me, you try so hard to hide how much you want this—how much you want more, even though it scares the hell out of you.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The warm, bright room felt like it was closing in around me, the soft hum of conversation fading, the world narrowing to his dark, intense gaze, the fierce, electric pull of his voice.

“You don’t know me.” My voice was a sharp, desperate whisper.

“I know you better than you think.” He leaned closer, his fingers brushing against the back of my hand, a slow, gentle touch that sent a wild, desperate thrill racing through me. “And you know me.”

“No, I don’t. I know you’re strong. Cold. Calculating. I know you lead this pack with that perfect, unshakeable confidence. But that’s not who you are. That’s what they made you.”

“Is it?” His smile was a slow, wicked curve, but there was something else—something raw, vulnerable, just beneath the surface. “Then tell me who I am, Olivia.”

“You’re… you’re different with me.” My voice softened, the wild, desperate ache in my chest twisting, fierce and relentless. “You laugh. You let yourself be wild. You’re… you’re not the perfect Alpha they want you to be.”

“Because I don’t want to be.” He leaned in, his forehead almost touching mine, his voice a fierce, desperate whisper. “Not with you.”

My breath caught, my heart racing, the sharp, aching heat crashing through me. “This is… this is too much. Too fast. I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Adrian leaned closer, the fierce, desperate heat of him a perfect, maddening contrast to the cold, twisting ache in my chest.

“I can’t—” I pulled my hand away, stumbling to my feet, the wooden chair scraping against the polished floor. “We should go. We should… we have to get back. Sophie’s probably losing her mind with last-minute preparations, and you—”

“Olivia.” His voice was calm, a quiet, steady command that cut through my frantic, spiraling thoughts.

But I didn’t want calm. I didn’t want steady. I wanted distance. Space. Anything to stop this fierce, suffocating tension that twisted in my chest, the wild, desperate ache of his words crashing over me.

“Don’t.” I grabbed my bag, my fingers fumbling with the strap, my breath coming faster. “Just… let’s go.”

“You’re running.” He didn’t move, but his gaze never left me, sharp and focused, watching me like I was a wild, cornered animal.

“Congratulations, Alpha. You figured it out.” I forced a laugh, but it came out bitter, sharp, a broken edge slipping into my voice. “I’m chaos, right? That’s what you love so much about me.”

“Stop.”

“No, you stop.” I snapped, spinning on my heel, already heading for the door. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to… to pick me apart like some sort of puzzle and then act like you can fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you.” His voice was calm, but I heard the faint, frustrated edge threading through it. “I’m trying to get you to see—”

“To see what? That I’m a mess? That I’m just some wild, reckless mistake you’re going to regret the second this is over?”

His jaw tightened, his fists clenched, and I saw it—the faint, desperate flicker in his dark eyes, the struggle to hold on to that perfect, unshakeable calm. “Is that what you think I see?”

“I don’t know, Adrian.” I shoved open the door, the warm, golden sunlight crashing over me like a wave. “I don’t know what you see. And I don’t care.”

But that was a lie. I did care. I cared too much. And that was the problem.

We walked in silence to the truck, the warm, hazy sunlight stretching across the rolling fields, the faint buzz of cicadas a distant, muffled hum. Adrian’s jaw was set, his gaze fixed on the road, the tension radiating off him in sharp, silent waves.

I climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door a little too hard, my fingers gripping the glittery, ridiculous watch on my wrist, the cheap, plastic strap digging into my skin.

The engine roared to life, and we pulled out onto the long, winding road, the golden fields blurring past, the sky stretching out in a perfect, cloudless blue. But the warmth, the soft, lazy comfort of the morning was gone, replaced by a sharp, suffocating silence.

I didn’t play my music. Didn’t say a word. Just stared out the window, my fingers tracing the stupid, glittering flowers on the watch strap, my mind racing, twisting, crashing against itself.

Beside me, Adrian didn’t speak. Didn’t look at me. His hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road like it was the only thing keeping him from losing control.

And gods, I hated this. Hated the silence, hated the tension, hated the sharp, desperate ache that twisted in my chest every time I glanced at him, every time I saw that fierce, stubborn look in his eyes.

We didn’t speak for the entire drive. The sky darkened, the golden fields fading to shadow, the soft, warm glow of the town lights rising in the distance.

By the time we pulled into the restaurant parking lot, the sky was a deep, dark blue, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a warm, golden light over the open-air terrace.

Sophie was already there, her blonde curls tumbling in soft waves around her shoulders, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke to Karl, her voice a soft, anxious murmur.

The moment I stepped out of the truck, she turned, her face lighting up. “Liv! Finally! I was starting to think—”

“Save it,” I snapped, slamming the truck door shut. “I’m here. No thanks to you.”

Her smile faltered, a faint, confused frown flickering across her face. “What?”

“You played me, Sophie. Manipulated me. Cancelled my hotel reservation, dumped me at Adrian’s place, and just assumed I’d be fine with it.”

“I was trying to help—”

“Help? By treating me like a pawn in your perfect, polished little fairy tale?” I stepped closer, the sharp, bitter ache twisting in my chest, the anger crashing over me like a wave. “I don’t need your help, Sophie. I didn’t ask for it.”

“Liv, you were alone. Stuck in a crappy hotel, going through a divorce, and you weren’t even going to come to the wedding if I hadn’t begged you.” Her voice rose, a faint, desperate edge threading through it. “I just wanted you to be part of this. I wanted you to be here.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m here now. I’ll stay for the wedding tomorrow, and then I’m gone.”

“ Gone ? You said you will stay another week after...” Her voice cracked, her wide, blue eyes filling with hurt. “Liv, please—”

“I don’t belong here. I never did.” My voice was sharp, a fierce, desperate edge threading through it, and I hated the way it cracked. “And you know it.”

Sophie’s lips tightened, her jaw clenching, and then her gaze swept over me, her eyes narrowing. “Nice claim mark, by the way. Guess you found a way to keep yourself entertained.”

My fingers flew to the faint, bruised mark at the curve of my neck, the heat rushing to my cheeks, a wild, furious twist of shame and anger crashing through me.

“Yeah, well, congratulations. Your little game worked perfectly.”

“Game?” She stepped closer, her voice a fierce, desperate whisper. “Is that what you think this is? Me trying to make you miserable? I’m trying to keep you close, Liv. I’m trying ...”

“Maybe you should stop trying.” I turned, storming back toward the truck, the sharp, suffocating ache in my chest twisting, tightening, clawing at me.

“Maybe you should stop pretending you don’t want to stay.” Her voice was a fierce, breathless whisper, but I didn’t turn.

I couldn’t.

Because she was right.

And I hated her for it.

Adrian’s jaw tightened, the fierce, tense silence between us stretching, twisting, suffocating. His dark gaze stayed locked on mine, that wild, electric heat still burning beneath the cold, steady calm of his expression.

“I’ll take you back.” His voice was low, clipped, too controlled.

“No.” I shook my head, forcing a sharp, bitter smile. “I’ll get a cab.”

“Olivia—”

“See you tomorrow. At the wedding.”

I didn’t wait for his response. I turned, walking away, my heart pounding against my ribs, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. My fingers fumbled with my phone, the screen blurring as I pulled up the rideshare app, the sharp, blue light a cruel, relentless glare against the darkness.

The cab pulled up within minutes, the driver—a grizzled, gray-haired man with a warm, easy smile—leaning out the window. “Evenin’, miss. Where to?”

I hesitated, the twisting ache in my chest tightening, clawing at me. I couldn’t go back to the hotel. Not yet. Not when my thoughts were a tangled, desperate mess, not when the fierce, electric heat of Adrian’s gaze still burned against my skin.

“Take me to one of the Moon Goddess temples.”

The driver’s smile widened, a faint, knowing warmth in his eyes. “Got just the place for you. You wanna head up to the shrine? It’s quieter there. Better for prayer.”

“Sure.” I forced a smile, leaning back in the worn, leather seat, the faint scent of old lavender air freshener filling the cab. “Take me there.”