Chapter 10 — Return to Silver

Aldric POV

The hotel smelled wrong.

Not bad — just unfamiliar in a way that made Aldric’s wolf restless beneath his skin the moment he stepped through the glass doors. The air carried traces of polished wood, brewed coffee, detergent, and faint human scents layered over the subtle thread of pack territory.

It felt contained. Controlled.

Nothing like the open forests of Silver Ridge where every breath tasted like pine and earth and freedom.

Aldric paused just inside the entrance, letting the doors slide shut behind him with a soft whisper. Rain clouds hung low outside, the sky heavy and gray, casting the lobby in muted afternoon light.

Around him, members of his pack filtered in with quiet efficiency — Betas checking in, enforcers scanning the space with practiced awareness. The Alpha convention always came with heightened security, and instinct made them cautious in unfamiliar territory, even allied ones.

Still, something else tugged at his senses.

A faint pull, almost like a thread brushing against his awareness.

His wolf lifted its head instantly, alert.

Aldric frowned slightly, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension creeping along his spine.

You’re imagining things.

He’d felt restless all morning — a strange anticipation humming beneath his skin ever since they crossed into Crimson Hollow territory. He’d chalked it up to being back near the place where everything had changed six years ago.

Where Regina had been taken.

Where Rebecca had been lost.

His chest tightened at the memory, a familiar ache settling beneath his ribs. Rebecca had been found months later — alive but forever changed — and though time had softened the sharpest edges of that nightmare, the scars remained for all of them.

Especially him.

Aldric exhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

Focus.

He stepped further into the lobby, boots silent on polished tile, gaze sweeping the space automatically — exits, sightlines, potential threats. Habit ingrained from years of leadership.

The reception desk sat ahead, dark wood gleaming under soft lights.

And behind it—

His world tilted.

Red hair caught the light first — long waves cascading down her back like living fire, richer and deeper than he remembered. Then her face came into focus, pale skin luminous against the darker tones of the room, green eyes scanning a reservation screen with quiet concentration.

Regina.

The name hit him like a physical force, knocking the air from his lungs.

For a moment, everything else faded — the quiet hum of conversation, the soft clatter of luggage wheels, even the restless pacing of his wolf.

Six years vanished in a heartbeat.

She looked older, of course. More composed. There was a stillness about her now, a quiet strength that hadn’t been there before. But the essence of her — the soft warmth of her scent, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat — was unmistakable.

And then she looked up.

Their eyes met.

The world snapped into razor-sharp focus.

Aldric felt it before he understood it — a sudden, electric shift deep in his chest, like something ancient waking with a roar. Heat surged through his veins, sharp and undeniable, every nerve ending lighting up at once.

His wolf lunged forward, ecstatic, fierce, possessive.

Mate.

The realization slammed into him with breathtaking clarity.

The bond snapped into place like a lock finally finding its key.

Aldric’s breath caught, his heart pounding so hard he was certain the entire lobby could hear it. The pull toward her was immediate and overwhelming, a magnetic force drawing him forward without conscious thought.

Mine.

The word echoed through his mind, primal and absolute.

Across the room, Regina went completely still.

He saw the exact moment she felt it too — her pupils widening, breath hitching, a faint flush rising across her cheeks as the bond flared between them, bright and undeniable.

Shock flickered across her face, followed by something deeper — recognition, confusion, and a spark of something that looked dangerously like fear.

Aldric forced himself to stop a few feet from the desk, every instinct screaming to close the distance, to touch her, to confirm she was real.

“Regina,” he said, her name rough on his tongue.

She swallowed, fingers tightening slightly against the counter. “Alpha Thorn.”

The formal title felt like a wall slamming into place between them.

He ignored the sting of it, focusing instead on the bond thrumming through his chest — warm and alive, a steady pulse that felt like it had always been there, waiting.

“You work here,” he said, immediately aware of how inadequate the words sounded compared to the storm raging inside him.

She nodded once, still clearly trying to process what had just happened. “Yes.”

Her voice was steady, but he could hear the faint tremor beneath it.

Silence stretched between them, heavy with everything neither of them knew how to say.

Memories flashed through his mind — her bound in the cave, the relief when her eyes opened, the quiet moment in the training field before she left.

And now this.

Fate had a cruel sense of timing.

“How have you been?” he asked quietly.

The question felt absurdly small compared to the magnitude of what had just shifted between them, but he needed something — anything — to anchor the moment.

“Fine,” she said automatically, though the bond pulsed with a faint echo of anxiety that contradicted the word.

Aldric’s wolf growled softly at the mismatch, protective instinct flaring.

He forced himself to remain still, to give her space, even though every part of him wanted to reach across the desk and pull her into his arms just to feel the bond settle fully.

“Your reservation?” she asked, voice slipping back into professional rhythm, though her eyes kept flickering to his like she couldn’t help herself.

Aldric almost smiled at the normalcy of the question.

“Silver Ridge Pack,” he said.

Her fingers moved over the keyboard, movements slightly stiff. He watched the way her hair fell forward over her shoulder, the faint rise and fall of her breathing, committing every detail to memory like he was afraid she might disappear if he blinked.

The bond hummed steadily, warm and grounding, filling a space he hadn’t even fully realized was empty.

After a moment, she handed him a keycard, their fingers brushing briefly.

The contact sent a sharp spark up his arm, heat flaring where their skin touched. Regina’s breath caught softly, her gaze snapping to his.

Neither of them pulled away immediately.

The world narrowed to the point of contact — warm skin, steady pulse, the undeniable certainty of connection.

Then she withdrew her hand quickly, color rising in her cheeks.

“Room 412,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” he replied, though the words felt inadequate.

Another beat of silence.

Then someone from his pack approached behind him, breaking the moment.

Aldric stepped back reluctantly, the physical distance feeling wrong now that he knew what she was to him.

“We’ll talk,” he said softly, not quite a question.

Her gaze flickered with uncertainty, but after a moment she nodded.

“Yes.”

The word settled something deep in his chest.

Aldric turned toward the elevators, every step away from her feeling like moving against gravity. The bond stretched between them, not painful but persistent, a constant awareness of where she stood behind him.

Six years he’d lived without knowing.

Six years fate had waited.

And now that he’d found her…

He knew with absolute certainty he would never let her go.

⸻