CHAPTER 3

The moment I spotted Jordan Reed’s silhouette in the shadows, I sensed the shift in the air. Lisa’s grandfather, however, had Holden’s poison still fresh in his ears. His scent spiked with a sharp, protective hostility as he bared his teeth at Jordan.

"Young warrior," the old man rasped, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is it not the height of insolence to be prowling outside my granddaughter’s den in the dead of night?"

Jordan looked momentarily caught off guard. He didn't understand the sudden frost from the elder. "I was told Lisa had come to retrieve you," he explained, his voice steady but respectful. "I only wished to see if the journey back was safe or if you required an extra pair of hands."

"We require nothing from your kind. Begone."

Lisa shot Jordan a look of pure, mortified apology. She was as baffled as he was by her grandfather’s sudden bite. Jordan, ever the professional, gave a slight nod. "Peace be with you," he murmured, before melting back into the darkness of the city.

"Lisa, speak the truth of your blood. Are you entangled in a knot with that male?"

"Grandfather, what has gotten into you?"

"Holden Pierce told me everything!" the old man barked, pointing a gnarled finger at her. "He said you have become a mistress, selling your loyalty for a place in his bed! You are to sever all ties with that wolf immediately."

Lisa felt a cold shock wash over her, followed by a searing flash of heat. She had known Holden was a snake, but to use an elder's trust to sow discord was a new depth of depravity.

"And your Luna, Ava Hart," the grandfather continued. "Sloane Pierce is a visionary leader, yet you and your mistress are trying to tear her throat out? Why?"

"Grandfather! Sloane was the one who held you in a silver cage! She used you as bait to trap Ava! It was Ava who risked the wrath of the Council to get you out!"

"Cage? Your mind is clouded, pup. Sloane provided me with the finest game and fresh water. She treated me as an honored guest and took me to see the sights of the territory. It is you who has been misled."

Lisa felt the words die in her throat. She realized then that the entertainment industry’s rot was too complex for an old wolf who had spent his life in the quiet woods. He was being used as a weapon against his own kin.

Once she had settled the old man into his furs for the night, she reached out to Jordan. "I am so sorry for the reception tonight. My grandfather has been fed a feast of lies by Sloane and Holden. He’s being critical of every shadow I cast."

"As long as he is whole, it matters little," Jordan replied, his voice coming through the device with a distracted, clicking sound. "I am currently in the middle of a strategic simulation. You should rest. The moon is high."

"I understand. Goodnight."

The dismissal stung more than Lisa wanted to admit. Why should it? Jordan was a high-ranking warrior of the Vale Hills; he wouldn't truly care for a simple shadow like her.

In reality, after the link went dead, Jordan felt a strange restlessness in his chest. He couldn't say the elder's rejection hadn't scratched his pride. He was only trying to show a mate’s care—or at least a friend’s—and to be met with such venom felt like a physical blow to his gut.

The winter night pressed against the glass of the Vale Hills Estate. I had just stepped out of the steam, and the moment I saw Connor, I practically fell into his warmth. I used his powerful arm as a pillow, the scent of cedar and rain clinging to him.

"Sloane is not one to offer peace offerings," I mused, tracing the lines of his muscles. "Why would she hand me the opening hunt of an international summit? I thought she wanted me flayed... yet, the JK show in London is a territory I’ve always dreamed of conquering."

Connor tightened his hold, his strong legs intertwining with mine, effectively pinning me to his chest in a possessive, protective lock.

"If she opens the gate, then charge through it..."

He knew that whatever Sloane’s motive, she was only accelerating my ascent toward the Vales.

"In that case... will you run with me to London?"

"What is the date of the migration?" Connor asked.

"The pack departs next Wednesday."

Connor’s eyes clouded with a professional weight. "The turn of the year is upon us. The High Council has summoned me for the award ceremonies and several legislative events..."

"It’s alright if you cannot make the journey," I whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Every time we cross borders, you have to move mountains of logistics just to keep our cover. My heart aches seeing you so strained. I will be in the London territory for only one week. Stay in New York. Rest your paws."

Connor didn't promise anything, but his silence was loud with intent. If he didn't follow, what would the scouts Sloane had hired find to report? Would they return with an empty trail?

By the next sunrise, the Vale Daily had unleashed a flood of truth. With the Vale Media Group’s oversight, the narrative focused entirely on Riley Knox’s savagery. It detailed how she had tormented a subordinate, the slaps she dealt to Lisa, and the attempt to force a free wolf to her knees. The retaliation I delivered was framed as the righteous fury of a leader protecting her pack.

The most shocking decree came from the Vales themselves: they officially recognized Lisa as the betrothed of Jordan Reed. That was why the Northern Enforcers had intervened.

The article stated clearly that I, Ava Hart, and the High Alpha Connor Vale, shared no blood-oath or intimate bond; we were merely professional allies.

The public’s scent immediately turned against H World. The brands that had been associated with Riley Knox for the Pacific Crown Gala stepped forward to blacklist her, citing her "tainted character."

While most of the territory howled in support of my actions, a new shadow began to form.

"I never knew Ava had such a feral side. Five strikes in the blink of an eye... how glorious!"

"She reached her breaking point. She’s not just a model; she’s a protector. That is the mark of a true Luna."

"I’ve seen many stars treat their assistants like servants, but I’ve never seen a warrior defend one like this. She’s legendary!"

"But she still used violence. Does that not make her as savage as Riley?"

"The pup above clearly hasn't had their kin threatened. If someone put a leash on your sister, wouldn't you draw blood too?"

"I just want to know who gave Riley the permission to treat a wolf like a slave. This rot goes all the way to the Alpha’s office."

The debate raged on, but the release of the LM campaign shifted the focus. By Monday afternoon, the views had surpassed ten million.

My standing in New York was no longer a question of luck; it was a matter of dominance. I was no longer a fading star; I was the topic of every conversation in the forest.

This was a victory H World should have toasted to. Even if Riley was ruined, my momentum was enough to carry the agency. At this rate, I would eclipse Riley’s entire career in a single season.

In three months, I had cleared the thicket and stood at the peak. It sent shockwaves through the industry—and sowed deep seeds of envy.

Sloane Pierce finally realized my true market value. She became obsessed with finding the secret I was guarding, certain that a leash on my heart was the only way to control me.

The day before the London flight, Lisa came to me, her scent sharp with anxiety. "I’m being tracked, Ava. Someone is shadowing my every move."

I narrowed my eyes. Sloane suspected the bond between Lisa and Jordan was a ruse. She was looking for a crack in the story.

"It’s been days since the gala. Have you not scented Jordan even once?"

"That night... the night I brought my grandfather home, he was waiting in the cold. He only wanted to ensure our safety. But my grandfather... he believes I am a mistress. He refuses to return to the northern woods and insists on watching me like a hawk."

"Lisa, we used Jordan’s name to shield Eric and I, but it was also meant to be your armor. If the weight is too much..."

"No, it isn't that. I feel as though Jordan is the one suffering by being linked to me," Lisa said, waving her hands frantically.

"Then... what if we staged a cohabitation? Make the bond look permanent?"

"What?"

"Just a performance..." I could scent the tiny flicker of heat whenever Lisa mentioned Jordan. I wanted to push them into the same den and see if a real spark would catch.

"I... I don't think that's wise," Lisa stammered, her cheeks turning a deep crimson.

"You are an engaged pair. The pack expects it."

Lisa waved her hands even harder. "Ava, please! It would make every interaction with Jordan unbearable. I think of him as a protector, a friend. If you want me to play a part for the cameras, I will. But living under the same roof? That’s crossing a border I’m not ready for."

I continued packing my furs, nodding. "Don't say I didn't offer you a path."

"What are you talking about? He is younger, a warrior... I am just..." Lisa trailed off, her insecurity flaring. She loved her food and her quiet life; she couldn't imagine a refined elite like Jordan wanting a mate like her.

"When I return from London, I’ll have a word with him about his preferences."

"Wait, isn't the High Alpha going with you?" Lisa asked, desperate to change the subject.

I thought of the mountains of scrolls on Connor’s desk and shook my head. "The year is ending, and the legislative sessions are constant. I don't want him to burn out. To ensure he doesn't try to force a trip, I’ve moved my flight up. Don't forget."

"I have everything ready," Lisa sighed, relieved the focus was off her love life.

She was nearly thirty winters old, without a title or a legacy. She felt it was impossible for someone of Jordan’s status to look at her. Sometimes she felt the urge to chase the sun, but she was too afraid of the burn.

Not long after Lisa left the Hyatt, Jordan appeared. He carried a platter of fresh, raw sea-prey, flown in from the distant coasts. He looked at me, then scanned the room. "Was Lisa not here? Why has she vanished?"

I looked at the delicacy. My current diet was strict to maintain my form; I wouldn't touch it. I smiled at the warrior. "She just headed for home. Why don't you track her scent?"

"No, it’s fine," Jordan muttered, looking down at his boots.

"Jordan, be honest. Your feelings for Lisa..."

"It’s..." he cut me off, looking awkward. "Seeing her bloodied by Riley... I just felt a deep sense of protectiveness. Sympathy for a packmate."

"Only sympathy?"

"What else would there be?"

I lowered my head, hiding a smile. Jordan’s combat prowess was legendary, but his emotional instincts were in the gutter.

"It’s nothing. I can’t eat this. Take it to Lisa."

"What if the elder starts snapping at me again? I think it’s best I stay away." He turned and left the suite.

When Connor finally emerged from his study, he saw me staring at the sea-prey. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. "What has you so thoughtful?"

"You don't care for this either, do you?" I asked, before calling Lisa. "Jordan just delivered a feast of fresh sashimi. Do you want to come back and claim it?"

Lisa was already home. She didn't think of the food; she thought only of Jordan. The restlessness in her chest returned. But she fought it. "I’ll pass, Ava. I’m already settled in for the night."

"I can’t eat it and Connor won't. If you don't take it, I’ll have to return it to the earth."

"No! Don't throw it away. I’m coming." Lisa scrambled to change her clothes and raced back to the Hyatt. She packed the gift from Jordan carefully but didn't eat a single bite. She placed it in the cold-storage as if it were a holy relic.

When you love someone, even a scrap of cloth used to wipe their brow becomes a treasure. You keep it as a memory of the heat.

After my bath, I lay on the furs, thinking of the tangled mess between Lisa and Jordan. Suddenly, a familiar heat brushed against my skin. Connor had removed my silk robe without me even hearing his approach. His warm, calloused hands slid over my waist as he pulled me into his chest.

I looked into his eyes—they were hazy with a feral hunger and a trace of the coming longing.

"Since you are migrating for so long," he rumbled against my neck, "should you not pay the toll in advance?"

He didn't need to ask. My hunger for him was a constant flame. When two souls are tethered, a single touch is enough to trigger a storm.

In an instant, our silks were discarded. In the darkness of the den, the friction of our skin, the mingling of our scents, and the interlocking of our fingers made the exchange intense.

We didn't need words. I preferred the sound of his low growls and the way he caught my moans against his mouth. When the climax hit, I bit down on his shoulder to keep from howling, and he claimed me again and again.

What moved me most was the aftermath. No matter how exhausted he was, or how vulnerable we both felt, he always pulled my damp, aching body into his heart and held me until the sun began to peek over the hills.