Chapter 6

PENT HOUSE, DINING ROOM-NIGHT

The penthouse kitchen felt warm that night, the hanging lights casting a soft golden glow across the marble island as steam curled up from the dishes I had just finished plating.

My mother took her seat across from me, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear before lifting her fork.

For a moment, there was a peaceful silence, the kind that only exists when the world outside hasn’t managed to intrude yet.

I watched her take her first bite, her shoulders loosening with the familiar comfort of a home-cooked meal. I knew I was about to disrupt that calm, but it had to be said. It had to be now.

I laid my fork down gently and drew a quiet breath.

“Mom,” I began, trying to ease into it. “I need to tell you something before tomorrow.”

She paused mid-chew, her gaze lifting toward mine with immediate concern. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m moving to the Steel Fang pack house tomorrow.”

Her reaction was instant, her hand froze around her glass, and her expression shifted from confusion to pure shock.

“Steel Fang? As in that Steel Fang?” she asked, leaning back as if the words pushed her.

“Why would you do that? What for?”

I tried to appear calm even though my stomach tightened like a knot. “It’s for work. Alpha Jaron needs physical therapy, and I was assigned to handle his recovery.”

Her brows drew in sharply. She put her utensils down, her expression turning serious and worried in the same breath.

“I heard their Alpha is ruthless. And temperamental. That pack has a reputation, Kahlia.” Her voice dropped, laced with fear she could no longer hide.

“What if he hurts you?”

I let out a soft chuckle, leaning back as if the question didn’t make my throat tighten.

“Mom, do you really think I wouldn’t defend myself?” I gave her a small, proud smile.

“After everything Alpha Ethan did to me, do you honestly think I’ll let any Alpha hurt me again?”

Her worry didn’t vanish. If anything, it deepened, settling in her eyes like a storm.

“Even so… some Alphas are worse than Ethan,” she said, her voice trembling a little.

“I don’t want you stepping into danger just to prove something.”

I sighed quietly and took a sip of water to steady myself. “This isn’t about proving something to anyone else. It’s about proving something to myself.”

My tone remained steady even though the truth throbbed beneath my ribs: I didn’t want to be involved with another Alpha. Not ever again. “I want my career back. I want to stand on my own two feet again.”

She watched me for a long moment, her worry softening into sadness. “How long will you be staying there?”

“One month minimum,” I answered. “Or until Alpha Jaron recovers fully.”

Her eyes widened. “One month? Kahlia, that’s a long time to live in a pack house especially their pack house. You need to take care of yourself. Promise me you will. And don’t…” She hesitated, choosing her next words carefully.

“Don’t get attached to him. You’ve been through enough.”

The laugh that came out of me was light, genuine enough to ease the heaviness in the air.

“Mom, don’t worry. I can handle myself. I can handle him. And everything between us will stay strictly professional.”

She stood from her seat, walked around the table, and wrapped her arms around me tightly. I leaned into her embrace, closing my eyes as her warmth settled around me like a shield I didn’t know I needed.

“If you need me,” she whispered against my hair, “call me. Anytime.”

“I will,” I promised.

We finished dinner with softer conversation, simple things, small things until the heaviness faded enough for her to smile again.

When we parted for the night, she kissed my forehead gently, just like she used to when I was younger. I lay in bed afterward staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet settle deep into my bones.

Tonight was my last night sleeping here for a while.

The morning sun spilled through my curtains with a kind of hesitant brightness, as if the day was taking its time waking up. I got out of bed and began packing my suitcase, comfortable tops, jeans, therapy tools, medical notes, a notebook for documenting Alpha Jaron’s progress, and a few personal items.

My mother knocked softly before entering, carrying a tray with breakfast. Her eyes lingered on my half-packed suitcase.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asked gently.

“As ready as I can be,” I answered, offering her a small smile.

We ate together on my bed, sharing a quiet, tender moment I knew I’d hold onto once I left.

After we finished, she helped me zip the suitcase closed and smoothed her hand over the fabric. Her gaze lifted to mine with that familiar mix of love and fear.

“Take care of your heart,” she whispered. “Don’t let anyone bruise it again.”

I hugged her tightly, breathing her in. “I won’t.”

Soon, it was time to go.

I rolled my suitcase to the front door, taking one last look at the living room, the kitchen, the framed memories on the shelves, my safe space. My mother held my hand as we stepped outside the penthouse, and she hugged me again before letting me go.

“I’ll be waiting for your calls,” she said with a brave smile.

“I’ll call every night,” I promised.

And then I left.

The car ride was long, the road slowly shifting from the familiar cityscape to long winding paths lined with tall pine trees. The world outside grew quieter, the air thicker with something that felt like both mystery and warning.

With every mile that passed, my heartbeat grew louder not fast, but steady in a way that reminded me of responsibility pressing on my chest. I kept reminding myself that this was my job. This was my path to reclaiming everything I lost.

Still…A part of me trembled at the idea of living in a house run by an Alpha.

An Alpha with a reputation for being cold. Unpredictable. Dangerous.

I straightened in my seat when the car finally slowed down, approaching a massive iron gate standing like a sentinel between the mundane world and the territory of Steel Fang.

The guards standing on both sides were tall, muscular, and heavily armed. Wolves, clearly. Real wolves who didn’t smile.

I swallowed hard but kept my chin up. The window rolled down and the guard stepped forward.

“Name?” he demanded politely but firmly.

“Dr. Kahlia Ford,” I replied in a steady voice, forcing my professional mask into place. “I’m the Alpha’s assigned physical therapist.”

The guard nodded once and signaled to the others. The gates groaned open, revealing the long paved driveway leading toward the pack house, a massive estate glowing under the morning sun.

A deep breath filled my lungs. I could do this. I had to.

I stepped out of the car with my suitcase, and two guards approached to guide me inside.

“This way, Doctor,” one of them said.

We walked through the wide entrance of the house, the scent of pinewood drifting through the hallways. Every step echoed softly against polished floors. I tried to keep my mind focused, my breathing calm.

But nothing prepared me for what I saw when we reached the main living area.

Alpha Jaron sat near the wide window, the morning light spilling across his bare skin. His wheelchair was turned slightly, revealing the rigid lines of his chest and shoulders, strong, hardened. He was topless.

Completely, unapologetically topless.

My pulse stuttered.

“You’re late,” he said, coldly.