Chapter 8

Lucien’s POV

Sitting in my office, swirling a glass full of amber liquid. Whiskey. Aged twenty-five years, single malt, one of the few things I once considered a luxury. Now it just tasted like ash. Tasteless. Pointless. Even the burn that usually followed each sip didn’t register anymore.

Three bottles stood like sentries on my desk—silent witnesses to my slow descent. Two were empty, their insides dry, and the third... halfway done, like me.

Escape. That’s what I was after. A moment of stillness in the storm of my thoughts. But stillness never came—not with the silence, not with the booze. It only amplified the noise. Every breath was a reminder of absence. Every heartbeat felt like a countdown I couldn’t stop.

Her name haunted every corner of my mind.

Reya.

Those soft grey eyes. Long brunette waves that tumbled down her back like silk. A voice that could quiet the raging beast inside me, a smile that had once lit up the dark hallways of any place she enters.

I stared at the photo in my hand, the edges worn from too many nights like this. Her laughter still echoed in my ears, though it came from a time that felt like a dream now. I remembered the way the wind tangled in her hair that day. She’d cursed it playfully, and I’d tucked a strand behind her ear just to feel her skin under my fingers.

The paper crinkled under my tightening grip, the image warping as if time itself was protesting.

How did I not see it?

How did I miss the signs?

What kind of man claims to love someone and still fails to see their pain? She had been slipping right through my fingers, and I was too wrapped up in pack affairs to notice. And now... she was gone.

Crack.

The sound of the glass in my hand fracturing snapped me out of it. Pain bloomed as shards sliced through skin, but I didn’t loosen my grip. Blood dripped, slow and thick, staining the memory of her joy..

I didn’t even flinch.

With a growl lodged in my throat, I grabbed the nearest whiskey bottle and hurled it at the wall. It exploded into pieces, amber seeping into the cracks of the stone like tears.

The door slammed open a second later.

“Lucien!” Kane’s voice was sharp, panicked. “What the hell, man?!”

He rushed to my side, his eyes darting from the shattered glass to the blood dripping down my hand. His expression shifted from concern to dread.

“Your hand—Lucien, what the fuck did you do?”

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice flat, barely restrained. “Did you find out anything?”

Kane hesitated. That brief pause told me everything.

His shoulders sagged as he looked at me, pity bleeding into his usually steady gaze. “Lucien... It’s the same. Same damn report. The school, the friends, the investigation. Everyone says the same thing. Reya—she—”

“Don’t,” I cut in, my voice sharp enough to slice through bone. “Don’t say it.”

“Lucien—”

“I said don’t!” I slammed my uninjured fist into the desk, making him flinch. “Do not say those words to me again. I don’t care what some corrupted system claims. I don’t care about doctored footage or fabricated witness statements. Reya did not commit suicide.”

He stared at me, jaw clenched. “We’ve followed every lead. We watched the CCTV from her dorm building. It shows her—”

“Shows a girl in a hoodie walking onto a roof,” I snapped. “You think that proves anything? That footage could be tampered with. Could be someone else entirely. Do you know how many ways humans can manipulate evidence these days?”

“She was human too,” he whispered.

That made my wolf stir, a low snarl rumbling inside me.

“She was more than that,” I growled. “She was braver than most wolves I know. She fought harder, loved louder, and saw through all of this,” I gestured to the room, to the bottle shards and blood, “and still chose to stay. Until someone took that choice from her.”

Kane looked away, guilt written in the lines of his face.

“I’m not letting this go,” I said. “Not until I’ve exhausted every resource. Now get out and do your job.”

He didn’t argue this time. Just gave a tight nod and slipped out the door, leaving me alone with my fury.

The silence that followed was deafening. My breath came in shallow bursts, my heart pounding with a feral rhythm.

Humans.

My disgust flared like an open wound. Fragile bodies, fleeting lives, fear-driven minds. So eager to label what they don’t understand. So quick to turn cruelty into law. I never trusted them. Still don’t. But Reya—damn her—she made me question it all.

She was human, yes. But she had the heart of a wolf. Fierce. Loyal. Wildly protective. That’s who she was.

Not weak. Not afraid. Not suicidal.

I had never trusted them. Fragile bodies. Weaker minds. So easily swayed by fear and greed. They flinched when my wolf even growled. But Reya... she had been different. She wasn’t just an exception; she was the reason I believed maybe—just maybe—there was something worthy about them.

She’d barged into my life without permission, stubbornly kind, endlessly patient. She broke through my walls like they were made of paper. I’d been cruel to her in the beginning. Such an asshole. Dismissive. Cold. But she didn’t care. She stayed. And somehow, she became my everything. 

And now she was gone.

Dead, they said.

But my gut screamed otherwise.

A face flashed in my mind. Unexpected. Sharp and clear like a memory I hadn’t meant to keep.

The girl. The one whose scent curled around me like spring air after a long, bitter winter. Peach blossoms and warmth. She wasn’t just another stranger—I’d felt it the moment she walked past me, the pulse that stole the breath from my lungs.

I remembered the dimple on her cheek, the way her lips parted like she had words she was afraid to say. But it was her eyes—gods, those eyes. Full of sorrow. The kind you don’t earn in one lifetime. The kind that knows pain intimately.

And something inside me whispered: Mine.

I stood abruptly, the chair behind me toppling over.

My hand throbbed as I moved toward the cabinet, the sting of broken glass belatedly catching up with me. I grabbed the first aid kit, splashing peroxide over the deep cuts. The pain felt dull, distant. I wrapped my hand in gauze quickly, the white fabric turning pink with blood as I secured it.

I was done waiting. Done watching. Done mourning.

It was time for action.

Time to find my mate.

I stepped out of my office and into the cool hallway, my mind buzzing with plans. 

But something deeper stirred beneath that urgency. A pull. A tether forming.

Mate.

The word echoed through me, settling into my bones like truth.

I paused at the front steps of the pack house, staring at the endless stretch of forest beyond.

My wolf was already prowling beneath the surface, snarling with anticipation.

Let’s find her.