Chapter 7: Names That Echo

Chapter 7: Names That Echo

(Nayla’s POV — First Person)

I scrambled back a step, almost tripping again on my broken heel.

Heat flooded my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted, eyes glued to the floor.

God, I couldn’t even look at him.

Not when I could still feel the strength of his hands steadying me.

Not when his scent was wrapping around me like smoke.

“I’m so sorry,” I said again, clutching my broken shoe like it might shield me from further humiliation.

He didn’t say anything right away.

The elevator hummed softly around us, the tension thick enough to choke on.

I forced myself to glance up through my lashes.

He was watching me.

Not with amusement.

Not with annoyance.

Just… watching.

Like I was something he couldn’t quite figure out.

I swallowed hard and looked away again, pressing myself against the opposite side of the elevator, wishing I could melt into the wall.

“Bad day?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough, but somehow gentle.

I nodded, mortified.

“Could be worse,” he said. “At least you didn’t spill coffee on my suit.”

I let out a tiny, nervous laugh.

It escaped before I could stop it.

His mouth quirked in the faintest smile.

God, he was beautiful up close.

Sharper than I remembered.

Richer.

More dangerous.

The faint pull between us was there again.

Not loud.

Not overwhelming.

Just a whisper under my skin.

A ghost of something that could be—if I wasn’t so broken.

I could feel it thrumming between us, a low ache neither of us dared name.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached the lobby.

The doors slid open.

He stepped out first, holding the door with one hand, waiting for me.

I limped forward awkwardly, doing my best not to fall again.

We stood there for a second.

Just breathing the same air.

Just existing in the same strange, fragile moment.

I opened my mouth to say thank you—

But he beat me to it.

“I’m Dominic,” he said simply.

No last name.

No title.

Just that.

Dominic.

The name wrapped around me like a shiver.

I blinked up at him, finally meeting his gaze fully for the first time.

And recognition slammed into me like a freight train.

Dominic Gray.

The Alpha of the neutral zone.

The man who controlled the city’s underbelly with a word.

The enforcer of peace between humans, witches, and wolves.

I’d heard the stories.

The rumors.

I’d pictured someone older.

Hardened by time.

A man in his forties, maybe, graying at the temples, cold and calculating.

Not… him.

Not someone who looked like he could tear apart kingdoms and kiss you breathless in the same breath.

I was still trying to remember how words worked when I realized he was waiting.

“Nayla,” I managed, voice barely a whisper.

His eyes sharpened, just slightly.

Almost like he already knew.

“Nayla,” he repeated, tasting the syllables like he was committing them to memory.

I swallowed hard.

He gave me a small nod—nothing more—and turned, striding away across the marble floor, his Beta trailing a step behind him.

I stood there for a long moment, heart hammering, broken heel dangling from my fingers, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Wondering why it felt like something in the universe had shifted.

And why, despite everything—

despite grief, despite fear, despite the chaos that still clung to my skin—

my wolf was wide awake for the first time in weeks.

******

The walk back to my apartment was a blur.

I barely felt the cracked sidewalks under my flats.

Barely heard the taxi horns or the shouting or the constant hum of the city swallowing itself whole.

All I could hear was his voice.

“You always fall for men this easily, little wolf?”

Teasing.

Rough.

But not cruel.

And gods help me, it stuck to my skin like smoke.

I clutched my bag tighter against my side, trying to shake it off.

Dominic Gray.

The Dominic Gray.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.

He didn’t look like a myth.

He didn’t look like the monster whispered about at pack gatherings and rogue camps.

He looked…

Young.

Sharp.

Alive.

And the way he looked at me—

No.

I shook my head hard, pushing the thought away.

I didn’t have time for this.

I needed a job.

I needed a life.

I needed to put all my broken pieces back together, not throw them at the feet of another alpha who could crush them without blinking.

Still…

When I closed my eyes, I could feel the ghost of his touch on my arms.

Steady.

Strong.

Safe.

And that terrified me more than anything.

(Dominic’s POV )

The skyline stretched dark and endless beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of my main office.

Sterling glass.

Steel bones.

An empire carved out of blood, politics, and old debts.

Sloan stood at the far end of the room, his hands folded behind his back, waiting.

I tapped a pen against the corner of my desk once, twice, before setting it down.

“Find out who she is,” I said without looking up.

Sloan didn’t need clarification.

“The girl from the club,” he said simply.

“And today,” I added. My voice was steady. Cold.

As if she hadn’t haunted my every thought since she stumbled into me on the elevator.

“Name. Pack affiliation. Why she was in the building.”

I left it at that.

I didn’t ask for more.

Didn’t ask for her bloodlines, her debts, her secrets.

Not yet.

Sloan gave a short nod. “Discreetly?”

“Always.”

I didn’t want her spooked.

Didn’t want her knowing I was pulling threads.

Not until I understood why the sight of her made my wolf restless.

Why her scent still clung to my skin even now.

I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the night.

Lavender and salt.

Storms and oceans.

I didn’t understand it.

Didn’t want to.

Want led to need.

Need led to weakness.

And weakness got you killed.

This was just curiosity.

Nothing more.

I kept telling myself that as the city lights blurred into rivers of gold below me.

But deep down—

somewhere past the walls I’d built brick by brutal brick—

I knew.

It was already too late.