Jonathan’s POVThe second those steel gates creaked open, slow and reluctant, like the mansion itself was trying to deny me, I adjusted my collar and stepped forward with the kind of deliberate calm that hides a knife behind its back, because I knew exactly what I was walking into—and I wanted every goddamn second of it.The wolves had kept me waiting at the perimeter, their eyes sharp and suspicious, their noses twitching like bloodhounds trying to sniff out something they couldn’t place. Of course, they couldn’t. That was the point. I wasn’t here to be placed. I was here to unsettle. To unseat. To remind Lucas Blackwood that while he had strength, territory, and dominance—I had her.Selina. My girl. His fucking mate.And if I had to play the devoted boyfriend card all the way to hell to make him squirm, so be it.I walked through the front doors without needing to be escorted—because when a man walks like he owns the place, no one dares tell him otherwise—and there he was.Lucas Bla
Selina’s POVThe call came just as I was settling Damon into his temporary room, the one Lucas had reluctantly offered with clipped words and a stiff nod, like the idea of our presence under his roof still grated at some part of him he couldn’t name or wouldn’t admit to—but that wasn’t my concern right now, because Damon was safe, tucked into blankets that smelled faintly of pine and leather and the subtle musk that clung to the walls of this estate like an invisible warning that we were in wolf territory now.My phone buzzed again, more insistent this time, and I sighed, pulling it from the back pocket of my jeans and staring down at Jonathan’s name flashing across the screen like a brand I no longer wanted to wear.I hesitated. Just for a second. Then I answered.“Selina,” his voice came through sharp, too even, like he was trying to hold back something that had already broken loose beneath the surface, “I went to your penthouse.”I blinked, pressing the phone closer to my ear. “Jon
Grant’s POVThe day passed in fragments. Too many voices. Too many thoughts. Too many fucking emotions clawing at my chest like my ribs were a cage and everything inside me wanted out—wanted to scream, to shift, to destroy.But I didn’t. I paced instead.Around the perimeter. Through the halls. In and out of the training grounds. Anywhere but the east wing, anywhere but the spot I knew she was in. Vera.My mate. My human fucking mate.She hadn’t run. She hadn’t slapped me or screamed or asked what kind of psycho I was for yelling at invisible wolves and fleeing into the forest like some lunatic on the verge of a nervous breakdown. No. She’d followed me to the edge of the estate, arms crossed, lips pressed, and said, You’re not getting rid of me that easily.And just like that, I was fucked, because now I couldn’t get rid of her even if I wanted to.Not that I wanted to.Goddess!I was so far past wanting her I didn’t even know where I was anymore. Every second I spent not touching her
Grant’s POVI watched her go. Not far. Just down the corridor, around the corner, her scent lingering in the air like a fucking challenge—lavender and warm sugar and fire. My wolf paced beneath my skin, prowling, growling, and snarling every time she moved further away, and I was hanging on by a thread, one frayed edge away from losing it completely.She didn’t understand what she’d done—not really. That small touch over my heart, that quiet promise that she wasn’t running even though I’d given her every damn reason to—my wolf had gone silent. Watching. Waiting. Thrumming with something primal that made my spine itch and my chest feel too tight.I wanted to go after her.I wanted to grab her and pull her back into my space, press her against the wall, and kiss the questions off her lips until she understood what she was. What she meant. That she wasn’t just someone who wandered into my chaos—she was the calm and the storm. The spark. The bond. The end.But I didn’t. I stayed there. Br
Grant's POVMy wolf was obsessed.He’d reappeared with no warning—no slow build, no growl from the depths. Just there. Loud. Certain. And the second he’d caught her scent, he hadn’t hesitated. He’d taken over. He walked right up to her like she belonged to us and flirted like a goddamn idiot, all charm and hunger, making her laugh, making her look at me—no, not me—him. The wolf. The version of me that didn’t care about rules or fear or reputation.And I hadn’t stopped him. I couldn’t.When I’d finally forced control back, when I heard myself shout “fucking wolf!” like a lunatic, I saw the confusion flash across her face. She hadn’t said anything. She just arched a brow and walked away, giving me that amused little smirk like she thought I was being dramatic.She had no idea.She had no fucking clue that I’d wanted to touch her, kiss her, mark her, bite her, drag her against me, and never let her go—and none of it had been mine. It had been him. My wolf. And he was getting stronger.Ev
Grant's POVThe knock wasn’t loud, but it carried the weight of command. I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Lucas pushed the door open anyway, like he owned the place—which, technically, he did—and stepped in without apology, without hesitation, and without that usual easy smirk that made him seem more man than monster.He looked like hell. Like someone who hadn’t slept in days. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp, and for once, there was no fire—just steel. No jokes, no bullshit. Just Lucas Blackwood in full Alpha mode. And that…that wasn’t something I could ignore.“You need to talk to me,” he said simply, shutting the door behind him.I stayed seated, legs wide, elbows resting on my knees, trying not to look like I was coming apart at the seams. Because I was. Because ever since Vera walked into this place like some goddamn storm in pink lipstick, nothing made sense anymore. Because my wolf—my wolf, who I’d managed to suppress for years—had clawed his way back to the surface like he