Reality bites

The claws were what got me.

Not the glowing eyes—I'd been seeing those for days. Not the fangs, which looked like they could tear through steel. It was the claws, wickedly sharp and utterly real, extending from fingers that had been perfectly human thirty seconds ago.

My knees buckled.

Damien was moving before I hit the ground, catching me with those same clawed hands that should have terrified me but were somehow gentle. He lowered me into a chair, his partially shifted form crouched in front of me at eye level.

"Breathe," he said, and his voice was different—deeper, rougher, like gravel wrapped in silk. "Maya, you need to breathe."

I sucked in air, my vision tunneling. "You have claws."

"Yes."

"And fangs."

"Yes."

"Because you're a werewolf."

"Yes." He said it so calmly, like we were discussing the weather instead of the complete destruction of everything I thought I knew about reality.

I pressed my hands to my face, trying to force my brain to work. "This isn't happening. I'm having a breakdown. That's what this is. Too much stress, new job, Daniel's engagement, and my brain just... snapped."

"Look at me."

I didn't want to. Didn't want to see proof that the impossible was real.

"Maya." His hand—still clawed—touched my knee. "Look at me."

I lowered my hands.

Damien was still partially shifted, still more monster than man, but his eyes were the same. Intense, focused, and currently filled with something that looked like concern.

"This is real," he said quietly. "I'm real. What you're seeing is real. And I know it's terrifying, but I need you to stay with me. Can you do that?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I don't know if I can do any of this."

His form rippled again, and suddenly he was completely human. No claws, no fangs, just Damien in his expensive suit, kneeling in front of me like he was afraid I'd shatter.

"Better?" he asked.

"Not really." But my heart rate was slowing down, my breathing evening out. Shock was giving way to something else. Curiosity, maybe? Or just a desperate need to understand. "How did you do that? The shifting?"

"Practice. Control." He stood up slowly, giving me space. "Most wolves can shift at will once we're past adolescence. The full moon makes it stronger, harder to resist, but we're not slaves to it."

"That's not how the movies show it."

"The movies get a lot wrong." He moved to the window, putting distance between us. Like he was trying to make himself less threatening. "We're not mindless beasts, Maya. We're people who can become wolves. There's a difference."

I stared at his back, at the rigid line of his shoulders. "How long have you been... like this?"

"I was born a werewolf. It's genetic, passed down through bloodlines. My family has been wolves for over a thousand years."

A thousand years. My brain couldn't even process that.

"And everyone who works here...?"

"About eighty percent are wolves from my pack. The rest are human employees who don't know, or human mates who've been brought into pack life." He turned to face me. "You would have found out eventually. Mates always do. But I wanted to tell you on my own terms, when you were ready."

"I'm not ready," I said flatly. "I'm really, really not ready."

"I know." Something vulnerable flickered across his face. "And I'm sorry. You started asking the right questions, seeing too much. I had to make a choice—lie to you and watch you drive yourself crazy, or tell you the truth and hope you could handle it."

"You picked option two."

"I picked honesty." He moved closer but didn't touch me. "Because you deserve that, Maya. You deserve to know what you're walking into. What being my mate means."

Right. The mate thing. That whole insane concept he'd dropped like it was normal.

"Explain that part," I said. "The fated mate thing. Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like some kind of cosmic arranged marriage, and I'm not really into that."

Damien's mouth twitched. "It's not arranged. It's recognition. When a wolf meets their fated mate, we know. Instantly. Everything in us recognizes the person we're meant to be with."

"Meant to be with," I repeated. "Like soulmates?"

"Something like that. The bond creates a connection between us. Makes us compatible in every way—physically, emotionally, mentally." His eyes darkened. "It doesn't force you to feel anything you don't already feel, Maya. But it does intensify what's there."

My face heated at the implication. Because yeah, there was definitely something there. Had been since that first interview, if I was honest with myself.

"And if I don't want this bond?" I asked. "If I decide this is too crazy and I want out?"

Pain flashed across Damien's face, quick and sharp. "Then you walk away. The bond doesn't force you to stay. It just makes it harder to leave."

"How much harder?"

"Like trying to breathe underwater." His voice was rough. "Like cutting off a limb. But it's survivable. Wolves have rejected their mates before. It's rare, but it happens."

The raw honesty in his voice made my chest ache. "You're saying you'd let me go? Even if it hurt you?"

"I'm saying your choice matters more than my pain." He held my gaze. "I want you, Maya. God, I want you so badly it's driving me insane. But I want you to choose me because you want to, not because some cosmic force says you should."

Silence stretched between us, heavy with everything unsaid.

"I need time," I finally said. "To process this. To figure out what I want."

"Take all the time you need."

"And I need answers. Real answers, not cryptic warnings." I stood up, my legs steadier now. "If I'm going to even consider this, I need to understand your world. Pack dynamics, werewolf politics, what being a Luna actually means."

"Luna?" His eyebrows rose.

"I googled some stuff," I admitted. "When I couldn't sleep. Found a lot of werewolf romance novels with questionable accuracy, I'm guessing?"

That surprised a laugh out of him. "Very questionable. But yes, if you accept the mate bond, you'd be my Luna. My equal. You'd help me lead the pack, make decisions that affect hundreds of wolves."

"I'm a marketing manager."

"You're a natural leader," he corrected. "You just lead in boardrooms instead of pack meetings. The skills transfer, Maya. Trust me."

I wanted to argue, but I was too exhausted. My brain felt like it had been put through a blender.

"I need to go home," I said. "I need to sleep and wake up tomorrow and see if this still feels real or if I imagined the whole thing."

"I'll drive you."

"Damien—"

"Non-negotiable." His voice went hard. "There are things you don't know yet. Dangers you're not aware of. Until you understand what being my mate means in terms of pack politics, you're vulnerable."

"What kind of dangers?"

"The kind that would love to hurt you just to get to me." He grabbed his keys from the desk. "Come on. We can talk more in the car."

The drive started in silence. I watched the city lights blur past, trying to reconcile normal Seattle with this new reality where werewolves existed.

"Marcus Kane," I said suddenly. "The guy sabotaging the Meridian deal. He's a werewolf too, isn't he?"

Damien's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Yes. Alpha of the Eastern Pack."

"And his issue with you is...?"

"Territorial. Personal. Complicated." He changed lanes smoothly. "Marcus wants what I have. My pack, my territory, my power. He's been trying to undermine me for years."

"By going after business deals?"

"By going after everything." His jaw tightened. "The pack world isn't civilized, Maya. We have rules, laws enforced by the Council. But at the end of the day, we're still predators. Still territorial. Marcus sees weakness, he'll exploit it."

"And me being human makes you weak."

It wasn't a question, but Damien answered anyway. "In some wolves' eyes, yes. They think an Alpha should mate within the pack. That bringing in a human Luna weakens our bloodline."

"That's insane."

"That's tradition." He pulled up to a red light, turning to look at me. "But tradition changes. I've been changing things in my pack for years, pushing back against old ways that don't serve us anymore. You'd be the biggest change yet."

"No pressure or anything," I muttered.

The light changed. Damien drove in silence for another block before speaking again. "There's something else you need to know. About what happened in the conference room."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"When I partially shifted in front of you, every wolf in this building felt it. Felt my loss of control." His voice was grim. "By now, the whole pack knows something significant happened. They'll be asking questions."

"Questions about me."

"Questions about us." He pulled into my apartment complex. "Maya, I need you to understand—in the pack world, finding your fated mate is huge. Once word gets out that you're mine, everything changes. For both of us."

"I haven't agreed to be yours," I pointed out.

"I know. But the pack doesn't care about human concepts like dating and taking things slow. To them, fated mates are bonded the moment they meet. The rest is just formality."

Great. Just great.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, but Damien caught my hand before I could open the door.

"I meant what I said earlier," he told me. "Take your time. Figure out what you want. But please, be careful. Don't go anywhere alone at night. Don't invite strangers into your apartment. And if anything—anything—feels wrong, you call me immediately."

His hand was warm around mine, his touch sending sparks up my arm. The mate bond, I realized. Already forming whether I wanted it to or not.

"I'll be careful," I promised.

He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles that made my breath catch. "Sleep well, mate."

I climbed out of the SUV on shaky legs and somehow made it to my apartment door. The moment I was inside, I locked the deadbolt and slid down to the floor.

Werewolves were real.

Damien was a werewolf.

I was his fated mate.

And apparently, I'd just become the center of some kind of supernatural political drama.

My phone buzzed.

Damien: Lock your windows too.

I stared at the text, then looked at my windows. They were already locked—I always locked them—but something made me get up and check anyway.

All secure.

I was heading to my bedroom when I heard it. A sound from outside. Low and distant, but unmistakable.

A howl.

Different from the one I'd heard in the office. This one was closer. Sharper. Almost like a warning.

My phone rang, Damien's name flashing on the screen.

"Don't look outside," he said the moment I answered. "Don't open your curtains. Just stay inside and stay away from the windows."

"What's happening?"

"Marcus's wolves. They're in your neighborhood." His voice was tight with barely controlled rage. "They're sending a message. Stay on the phone with me until they leave."

Another howl, closer this time. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Damien, I'm scared."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He sounded wrecked. "I'm coming back. I'll be there in ten minutes. Just stay calm and stay inside."

"You said they're sending a message. What message?"

The silence on the other end was answer enough.

They knew. Marcus's pack already knew about me.

And they were letting me know that they knew.