C4

Logan had likely seen images of Draco during the High Council briefings. He always dismissed the designer as looking too refined, too polished—lacking the raw, jagged edge a true Northern Alpha should possess. While Logan knew that joining such a prestigious den would be a legendary climb for my career, the thought of his mate being under another male's tutelage did absolutely nothing for his peace of mind.

"Draco Wesley is a visionary, Logan. My wolf can learn things from his pack that I would never find in the South," I said, my voice dropping an octave as I scented his rising agitation through the link.

He closed his eyes, his jaw tight enough to snap bone. "I won't be the one to clip your wings, Brooke. But we have only just begun our life as mates, and already you are marking a territory miles away from mine. For how many moons do you expect me to haunt this empty apartment alone?"

I gave him a small, pained smile. "It looks like my trail stays in the Barnes Citadel for now. Why don't you follow the scent, honey?"

Logan didn't need to be told twice. He abandoned his duties at Pierce Holdings and took the first flight across the border. He was starving for me, his instincts frayed by the distance and the fear that some Northern predator might try to claim what was his.

The following morning, my device chirped at the break of dawn. It was Logan.

"I’m at the gates of the Lawson Estate."

"It’s barely six," I yawned, stretching on the furs. "You’re far too early, honey."

I scrambled into my furs and silks, rushing down to pull back the heavy iron bolts of the door. When I opened it, Logan was standing there, looking like a storm cloud. The moment our eyes met, his rigid posture shattered. He had been chasing the memory of my gaze for days.

I leaned against the doorframe, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "The sun hasn't even cleared the peaks," I muttered, playfully thumping his chest. "Why are you haunting my doorstep at this godforsaken hour?"

Logan blinked, his chest heaving. "Do you have any idea how long it has been since I’ve had your scent in my lungs?" he grumbled.

He looked exhausted and furious, a combination I found strangely endearing. I looped my arm through his, pulling him toward me. "Of course I do. It’s been nearly a week. I’ve missed you terribly, honey."

Logan’s wolf was howling with relief, but he was a high-ranking Alpha who prided himself on being an immovable mountain. He wasn't about to let me see how easily I’d broken his composure. He smoothed his coat and said in a cool, detached tone, "Is that so? I hadn't noticed the time passing."

I smiled, knowing him too well. I reached up, grasping his silk tie and pulling him down until I could press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "What about now? Do you notice it now?"

Logan let out a ragged sigh, struggling to keep his features stoic. "Not really."

I pinched his cheek. "Don't push your luck, Mr. Pierce."

He finally let out a low chuckle, his hands snaking around my waist to haul me flush against him. He backed me into the heavy oak door, his mouth crashing onto mine with a hunger that spoke of weeks, not days.

"Ahem!"

A sharp, authoritative cough cut through the air like a crack of thunder. I jumped, pulling away from Logan to find Beal and Johanna standing in the foyer, their expressions unreadable but clearly unimpressed.

My face burned with a sudden heat. "Mom, Dad... I didn't realize you were up."

Over the last few days, I had finally found the courage to use those titles, and the warmth they returned made it easier. Logan, ever the strategist, turned around and gave them a respectful nod. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. White."

Internally, he was likely cursing his lack of restraint. To a traditional Northern Alpha like Beal, seeing a male ravaging his daughter against a door wasn't exactly a golden introduction.

"This is a place of blood and history, not a common mating den," Johanna said, her eyes tracking Logan with sharp disapproval. To her, he was the Southern wolf who had led her pup astray.

"Come inside. We have matters to discuss," Johanna added, though her voice held no warmth for him.

Once inside, Logan sat on the edge of the carved stone sofa, his posture perfect. Beal immediately pulled me into the kitchen under the guise of preparing the morning meal. I kept glancing back toward the lounge.

"Stop fretful scenting, Brooke. Your mother is many things, but she won't shred him in the living room," Beal said, washing herbs with a gentle smile.

"I wasn't looking," I lied, looking down at the counter.

In the lounge, Johanna’s voice was like ice. "We have only just recovered our daughter after twenty years of mourning. We intend for her to remain within our borders to solidify the pack bond. What is your stance on this?"

"I understand the gravity of the reunion," Logan replied, his voice smooth and diplomatic.

Meanwhile, Lila was descending the stairs, still shaking off sleep. She stopped dead when she saw the male sitting in the lounge. Her heart skipped a beat, a flush of involuntary heat rising to her cheeks. She had seen the news of the Pierce wedding, but seeing Logan Pierce in the flesh was a different reality. He was a king among wolves—powerful, wealthy, and strikingly handsome.

She felt a bitter sting of envy. She had once thought her status would net her a mate of this caliber, but now she was a nameless extra. How had a "nobody" like Brooke managed to tether an Alpha like this?

Lila forced a smile and continued down. "Mom, why is the den so active so early?"

"Your father and I were hunting for provisions. The servants are off-duty today. Your father is in the kitchen with your sister," Johanna replied, not even glancing at her.

Lila said nothing, her eyes fixed on Logan. Even in a simple suit, his raw power was palpable. She watched me through the kitchen doorway and felt the resentment in her marrow turn into a poison. She couldn't stand it. She tightened her jaw and marched into the kitchen.

"Dad, let me help with the feast."

Logan was staying through the weekend. After breakfast, I took him up to see my chambers. The second the door closed, I felt his hand clamp around my waist. He didn't just hold me; he claimed me, locking the door with his free hand and tossing me onto the furs.

"Logan! It’s broad daylight and my parents are right beneath us!" I whispered, my face flushing as I tried to push his heavy frame away.

Downstairs, he had been the perfect gentleman. Up here, the beast was out of the cage. The air between us grew thick with the scent of pine and heat. Logan’s hands slid beneath my silks, finding the sensitive skin of my thighs.

He stripped away his wool layer, revealing the powerful, scarred muscle of a true Alpha. His eyes were dark, almost black with need. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling sharply. "Tell me you don't want this."

We hadn't been together in a week, and for a mated pair, that was an eternity. My legs felt weak, and despite my protest, I was already slick with need. I looked at the heavy door, then back at him.

"You have to be silent. If my mother hears a single sound..."

"I can be as quiet as a predator in the snow," he rasped, his voice vibrating against my skin. He pushed my silks aside and began to trace the lines of my body with a slow, agonizing heat. I bit my lip, but a low moan escaped as he found my center.

"Good girl," he growled.

He moved with a frantic, desperate hunger, shedding the rest of his clothes before pulling mine away in one swift, territorial motion. I shivered, but he was immediately over me, his heat a shield against the Northern chill. He rubbed against me until I was dripping, then slowly, agonizingly, he pushed inside. I was so tight from the tension of the week that he had to stop, his head falling to my shoulder as he fought for control.

The sensation of him filling me was an overwhelming pressure, a stabbing sweetness that made me gasp. He gripped my calves, bracing himself before burying his entire length within me.

"Ah! Logan..."

Tears pricked my eyes as he groaned in absolute ecstasy. I could feel the throb of his pulse inside me, a rhythmic drumming that synced with my own heart. He hiked my legs over his broad shoulders, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand. His other hand cupped my jaw, forcing me into a deep, territorial kiss. He didn't stop until he felt my wolf surrender and relax beneath him.

Only then did the rhythm begin—a brutal, beautiful cycle of plunging and withdrawing. With every thrust, it felt as though we were being forged together. Logan’s skin glistened in the muted light of the room, our bodies slick and joined.

I arched my back, my fingers digging into the furs as he pounded into me, his short, hoarse grunts the only sound in the room. He released my wrists, and I immediately threw my arms around his neck, my nails leaving red marks on his shoulders. He cupped my breasts, his thumbs flicking my nipples until I was a writhing mass of sensation.

"Oh..." I gasped.

The air was heavy, the scent of our union filling the space. I felt lost in a labyrinth of raw pleasure. I glanced toward the window; outside, the first buds of spring were fighting through the frost. A few sparrows were perched on the branches, oblivious to the storm inside. Before I could focus on them, Logan took my chin, turning me back for another searing kiss.

He pressed his palm against my lower abdomen, and with one final, deep thrust, he pressed down hard.

"Ah! Logan... please!"

Ripples of absolute bliss shattered my consciousness. I screamed into the pillow as I broke apart into a thousand stars. I collapsed against the furs, spent and quivering. Logan gave one final, guttural growl, spending his heat deep inside me as he collapsed on top of me.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his wild, unslaked gaze. He wasn't finished. Before I could even protest, he shifted us, his hand covering my eyes to force them shut as he began the next round of his relentless assault.

I didn't wake again until the next sun.

When I finally descended to the living area, Johanna was on me in an instant, her face etched with worry. "The servants said you missed every meal yesterday. Are you ill? Did the Northern frost catch you?"

I certainly didn't feel well—my muscles were aching and my core felt tender. I glanced at Logan, who was sitting on the sofa looking remarkably refreshed, as if he hadn't spent twelve hours behaving like a savage.

"I'm fine, Mom. I just... the change in seasons makes me drowsy," I lied, forced a smile.

"Drowsiness is a sign of a weak constitution. I’m taking you to Bayview Medical Center this afternoon," Johanna insisted.

I panicked. I couldn't let a healer see the marks Logan had left. Logan stood up, his hand catching my arm. "Mrs. White, I promised Brooke we would see the new thriller at the cinema this afternoon. She’s been eager for it."

Johanna looked like she wanted to argue, but eventually, she huffed. "Fine. But you look after her, Pierce."

She clearly still didn't trust him.

In truth, Logan had made up the movie to save me. But as we walked toward the Shifter cinema in the Citadel, a poster for a dark, artistic thriller caught my eye. It looked haunting.

"We're here anyway, let's actually go in," I suggested, pulling on his arm.

Logan leaned in, whispering into my ear, "I have a private screening room in my Barnes villa. We could be alone."

The suggestion made my skin prickle, but I shook my head. "I like the energy of a crowd, Logan!"

He laughed, giving in. We grabbed a bucket of popcorn and settled into the back row. The theater was nearly empty, the air cool and dark. I was glued to the screen, but Logan’s mind was still in the bedroom. He slid his hand onto my thigh, his fingers tracing the edge of my silk stockings.

"Logan, people are here. Watch the movie," I hissed.

He ignored me, his touch growing more daring. On screen, the leads were locked in a passionate embrace. Logan leaned in for a kiss, but just as our lips met, a sharp, grinding sound echoed from above. The ceiling was groaning.

Logan’s Alpha instincts snapped into place. He looked up, his eyes widening as the chandeliers began to sway violently.

"Brooke, down!"

He lunged, throwing me from the seat and pinning me to the floor of the aisle. He covered my body with his own, a split second before the heavy supports gave way. With a bone-shattering roar, the ceiling collapsed. Everything vanished into a cloud of dust and absolute darkness.

I felt a massive weight slam into Logan’s back, followed by a sickening thud. Then, there was only silence and the smell of pulverized stone.