Chapter Seven

The car rolled to a slow stop in front of a towering black-glass building nestled in the heart of the city—clean, sleek, and humming with understated authority. It looked like any other corporate high-rise from the outside, but every Alpha who walked these streets knew better.

This wasn’t just a building.

It was his.

The Alpha King’s headquarters stood like a sentinel over the city, overlooking both human and wolf territory alike. Inside, agreements were brokered, power maintained, and silence bought. Deals were made to keep the humans comfortable in their ignorance—while packs across the region bent to the will of the King in exchange for what they needed.

The doors opened and Grayson Stone stepped out first, followed by Blair.

Grayson wore the expression of someone used to being obeyed—chin high, shoulders squared, a man born into power. But even he hesitated before stepping through the glass doors.

The Alpha King’s city was no place to pretend you were stronger than you were.

“Let me do most of the talking,” Grayson murmured, smoothing her long beige coat as they walked toward the elevator. “You know how... particular he is about respect.”

Blair gave a curt nod, jaw tight. “We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t desperate.” Blair pressed the elevator button with a perfectly manicured nail.

They rode up in silence, the soft hum of the elevator doing nothing to steady the tension in Grayson’s shoulders.

The rogue attacks had started small, scattered—nothing more than isolated incidents. But then they grew bolder. Redstone’s borders were breached twice in the same week. Patrols were outnumbered. Young wolves went missing. The elders were growing anxious.

And now, here they were. Forced to seek help from the one wolf Grayson had hoped never to bow to.

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened onto a floor bathed in cool grey and silver tones. At the far end, a set of massive doors loomed—quietly intimidating, guarded by two enforcers who didn’t speak a word as the pair approached.

One of them opened the door without a gesture.

Inside, the Alpha King stood near the window, city lights reflecting off the glass behind him like a river of fire. He didn’t turn as they entered.

“Alpha Stone. Luna Blair.”

His voice was calm. Measured.

They bowed their heads respectfully.

“Thank you for granting us an audience,” Grayson said, stepping forward first. “We’ve come to discuss the growing rogue presence near Redstone.”

“I know why you’re here,” the Alpha King replied, finally turning to face them. His eyes were sharp, calculating but not unkind. “But understand this—aid from this city isn’t charity. It’s an investment.”

Blair stiffened, but Grayson gave a quick nod. “Of course. We’re prepared to offer what you ask in exchange for reinforcement and... discretion.”

The Alpha King studied them both for a long moment, then stepped closer.

“These rogues,” he said, folding his arms. “They aren’t just desperate. They’re organized. Someone’s giving them direction. And I don’t make deals blindly.”

Grayson blinked. “You think someone from within the packs is—?”

“I didn’t say that.” His voice sharpened. “But they’re not wandering aimlessly. Someone’s guiding them. Or giving them something to chase.”

A brief silence hung in the room.

Then the Alpha King added, almost absently, “There’s a scent I’ve been tracking... faint, buried under layers of city perfume. But familiar.”

Grayson frowned. “You think it’s one of ours?”

“No,” he said, turning back toward the window. “But someone from a pack. Someone who isn’t where they’re supposed to be.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. “And if you find them?”

The Alpha King’s lips curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“I don’t make assumptions,” he said. “I wait for confirmation.”

He turned back to them with the full weight of his presence.

“We’ll discuss terms tomorrow. You’ll stay at the Swifthall Suites. My people will see to your arrangements.”

Grayson opened his mouth as if to argue, but Blair touched his arm gently.

“We understand,” she said smoothly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

With that, the meeting ended, and they were escorted from the room.

But as the door shut behind them, the Alpha King remained by the window, fingers lightly drumming against the sill.

His mind wasn’t on Grayson.

It was on her—the girl with perfume hiding something deeper, a scent he almost remembered.

He remembered everyone’s faces. He had to, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember her.

**

The city’s pulse had changed with the falling sun—faster now, brighter, louder. Cars coasted through puddles left by an earlier drizzle, and storefront lights spilled out onto the sidewalks like amber veins.

Celeste stepped out of the corner bookstore, her arms full with a new read and a warm drink. Her charm bounced softly at the end of her bag, catching a glint of neon light as she turned down the next block. She kept her head low, her pace casual. The crowd helped her disappear. That was part of why she liked it here—being no one in particular.

Across the street, a black car pulled up and slowed to a stop in front of a private entrance only a few knew existed.

Grayson stepped out first, surveying the area with the tired edge of a man who hadn’t slept much in days. Blair followed, composed and sharp in her cream coat, her eyes cutting straight ahead like she didn’t have time for distractions.

Then the Alpha King stepped from the car, and the air seemed to still—not from magic, but presence. He said nothing, walking with deliberate calm as the doors to the building were opened ahead of him.

But then something... caught him.

A shift in the wind.

A scent.

Not unusual or powerful—no threat carried in it—but familiar. A light floral perfume, clean and delicate.

His gaze moved, scanning the sidewalk instinctively.

There she was.

She passed them by on the opposite side of the street, not looking up. The curve of her shoulder. The line of her neck. The quiet way she moved through the noise like it wasn’t even there.

He’d smelled that perfume before.

The diner.

The morning he’d met Victoria for breakfast. A hallway. A shoulder brushing his arm. An apology. A glance. That scent had lingered just long enough for him to notice, and then she’d been gone.

He turned his head slightly, watching her disappear into the pedestrian blur.

“Do you know her?” Blair asked, eyes narrowing as she noticed him pause.

“I’ve passed her before,” he said simply. “Diner near the edge of East Terrace. She brushed by me.”

Grayson followed his gaze, unimpressed. “Looks human.”

“Her smell makes me question everything,” the Alpha King meant to say that only to himself.

“That’s what we’re stopping for now?” Blair scoffed. “Someone you think you might’ve smelled near your eggs and toast?”

Grayson gave a small tug on her hand, and a look telling her to keep quiet.

He didn’t respond to her. He just kept watching. Not chasing. Not questioning.

Just... noting.

“I remember people,” he said finally, more to himself than to either of them. “Even when they don’t want to be remembered.”

Then he turned and walked toward the building, leaving Grayson and Blair to follow, but also questioning what just happened.

But in his mind, the scent followed too—drifting softly through memory.

And this time, he wasn’t going to forget it.

**

She hadn’t meant to stop.

But something pulled her back.

Celeste turned slowly watching the three figures make their way into the building. And soon she realized why it was that she had stopped. Something in her knew —Grayson, Blair, and the man who walked like he didn’t owe the world anything. She saw them being led toward a private corner of the restaurant beyond the tall windows.

It was stupid to stay. But her feet didn’t move.

She lingered across the street beneath the awning of a closed café, partially shielded from the soft mist of the gathering storm. Her tea had long gone cold in her hands.

They sat by the window—Grayson and Blair—laughing at first. Smiling like it had never cost anything. She watched the way he leaned in when Blair spoke, how he brushed her hair from her shoulder with fingers that once used to tremble just touching Celeste’s hand.

She hated how easy he looked now. How steady.

She saw how he reached to cut something for Blair, setting it on her plate with casual affection. Saw how she leaned in closer, resting her hand in his like it belonged there.

A hand that used to hold hers under the stars.

Celeste’s stomach tightened, breath locking behind her ribs. She took a step back—ready to leave.

And then, the rain came.

Sudden, wild, drenching.

Thunder rolled low and deep, like the sky had been holding something in too long.

She didn’t run. She couldn’t.

Her coat was no match for the downpour, and within seconds it clung to her like a second skin. The paper bag at her side sagged. Her hair flattened against her cheeks. The cold water trickled down the back of her neck, soaking her collar. But she didn’t move.

Inside, something shifted.

The Alpha King, who had been quiet—watchful—turned his head toward the window.

And their eyes met.

Through the rain-blurred glass, he saw her.

Drenched. Still. Expression unreadable—but not invisible.

Not this time.

The sound of the city dimmed. The restaurant, the storm, the weight in her chest—it all fell away. In that frozen moment, it was just him and her. Two strangers locked in something neither could name.

His expression didn’t change. He didn’t blink.

But he saw her.

She knew it.

And something deep inside her—something she thought she’d buried—shivered awake.

Then came the flash of lightning, bright enough to paint everything in white.

A loud crack of thunder followed, making Blair flinch, drawing Grayson’s attention toward the window—

And the Alpha King looked away for only a second.

But when he turned back, she was gone.