Chapter two

Athena

London doesn’t smell like home.

It smells like rain, iron, and strangers who don’t know my name or my wolf. At first, that was exactly what I needed. Distance. Silence. A place where no one looked at me with pity or whispered my parents’ names like they were fragile glass.

Five years pass faster than I ever expect.

I build a life piece by piece. Finish school. Get a job I love. Learn how to breathe without the ache in my chest gnawing constantly. I tell myself I’ve healed.

That the bond I felt that night in Tristan’s bed was just grief. Just desperation.

I tell myself that because admitting the truth that my mate rejected me and my wolf never forgave him is too dangerous. Too raw.

She never let me forget.

Some nights, I wake up gasping, heat curling low in my belly, phantom hands still branded into my skin. Other nights, anger burns so hot I swear I can smell smoke.

My wolf remembers everything. Every touch, every stolen moment, every rejection. Every pang of desire.

And then, one afternoon, everything unravels.

It starts with a phone call from Orion.

I almost don’t answer. We talk often, but something in my chest tightens the moment I see his name flash across my screen.

“Ath,” he says, voice taut. “I need you to come home.”

I sit up straighter than I realize. “What happened?”

A pause stretches too long.

“The packs are calling a summit,” he finally says. “And… Tristan’s back.”

The name hits me like a punch to my ribs.

I haven’t heard it spoken in years. I stopped saying it. Stopped thinking it. But the moment Orion says it, my wolf surges forward, claws scraping against my chest, howling like she’s been waiting for this.

Back.

“Back from where?” I ask carefully, forcing my voice to stay even.

“From the road. From hell. From wherever the fuck he’s been,” Orion replies, exhale sharp and tense. “He’s claiming territory again. Loudly.”

Of course he is.

Tristan Blackwood never did anything quietly.

“I don’t see why that concerns me,” I lie, voice flat.

Orion doesn’t call me out. “You’re pack. You’re family. And whether you like it or not, he’s tied to all of this.”

I close my eyes.

The bond hums low, awake, restless, echoing through my chest like a drumbeat I can’t ignore.

“I’ll be there,” I say.

Two days later, I stand at the edge of pack territory, staring at the familiar treeline like it might bite me.

Nothing’s changed.

Everything’s changed.

The air buzzes with tension. Wolves pace beneath the surface; the land itself feels restless, sensing what’s coming. I can feel him before I see him. That pull sharp, undeniable snaps tight around my ribs.

My mate.

I hate that word.

Engines roar in the distance, deep and thunderous, vibrating through the ground. A line of motorcycles emerges from the trees, chrome flashing, leather-clad riders moving with lethal precision.

At the front, he sits tall.

Tristan.

Bigger than I remember. Broader. Harder. Hair longer, pulled back at the nape of his neck. Beard shadowing his jawline. Leather cut heavy on his shoulders, Razorback MC stitched across the back like a warning.

Alpha.

Danger.

Mine.

His wolf slams into mine the moment his gaze finds me.

The world narrows.

Five years vanish.

His eyes glow gold, locking onto me like I’m prey and sanctuary at once. The bond snaps tight, screaming recognition, rage, longing, and something darker. Possessive. Territorial.

He kills his engine and dismounts slowly, deliberately, like he fears sudden movement might spook me.

I don’t move. Refuse to.

“Athena,” he says.

My name sounds different now. Rougher. Carved into bone and fire.

“Don’t,” I snap, arms folded. “Say my name like you get to.”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. Gone in a blink.

“You left,” he says quietly.

“You told me to,” I shoot back. “You made it very clear where I stood.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy with five years of unspoken regrets.

“You felt it,” he finally says.

My breath catches. “Felt what?”

“The bond.” His jaw tightens. “That night. I felt it. I panicked.”

My wolf snarls.

“So you rejected me,” I whisper. “You claimed me with your body and rejected me with your words.”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he says, voice low, almost ashamed.

“You were protecting yourself,” I reply.

He steps closer. The pull nearly drops me to my knees. “I was wrong.”

I laugh, sharp and bitter. “That’s it? Five years, and all you have is, ‘I was wrong’?”

His eyes darken. “I left because if I stayed, I would’ve dragged you into a world soaked in blood and fire. I wasn’t fit to be anyone’s mate.”

“You don’t get to decide that alone.”

“I know that now.”

The ground seems to vibrate beneath us as his wolf presses forward, demanding recognition, demanding completion.

“I’m not the girl you left behind,” I warn.

“I don’t want her,” he says softly. “I want the woman standing in front of me.”

My heart pounds.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I say, even as my body betrays me, leaning toward his heat. “You don’t get a second chance just because fate decided to knock louder.”

His gaze drops to my throat, where the mark should be.

“I’m not asking,” he murmurs. “I’m claiming what I should’ve never walked away from.”

Before I can react, his hand closes around my wrist not rough, not gentle. Certain.

The bond roars to life.

The world tilts.

His scent floods my senses. My wolf rises, ready to finish what he started five years ago.

This time…

He isn’t letting me go.

And I can’t stop the shiver of anticipation that races down my spine, the wolf inside me growling with a hunger and longing that no time or distance could erase.