A quiet, soft knock—twice on Theon’s office door, then silence.Theon doesn’t look up immediately. He’s seated behind a thick table of dark oak, flipping through documents. His jacket is slung over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled, collar slightly open. It’s been a long day, judging from the look on his face. But the moment he realizes it’s her, something in his expression shifts—just enough to notice.“You’re up early,” he says, leaning back.She walks in, arms crossed loosely. There’s a hesitant beat in her steps. She doesn’t speak until the door shuts behind her.“I want a tour,” Lumina says.Theon arches a brow. “A tour?”“Yes,” she nods. “Of the pack. The war room, training grounds… Just want to know the place I’m stuck in.”He studies her. Quiet for a second too long.“You never asked for that before,” he says.“I’m asking now.”His eyes narrow slightly. “Why?”She shrugs. “I get bored sitting in your room all day. You said I’m not a prisoner, remember?”A ghost of a smile
Theon is sitting by the window when Lumina walks in. Last night they had slept without speaking to each other, Theon made Lumina wash several times until he was satisfied. The room smells like sage and cedarwood, soft from the scented oil burning low on the shelf. He doesn’t turn, but she knows he hears her. His hearing is too sharp to miss the creak of the door or the quiet sound of her barefoot steps on the hardwood.He finally speaks, voice calm but edged with something heavier. “Are you hungry?”She blinks, caught off guard by the question. “A little.”He stands, straightening the collar of his dark shirt. “Join me for dinner.”She hesitates, unsure if this is a command or a request. With Theon, it’s always hard to tell. His tone stays even, unreadable. She nods anyway. “Okay.”He doesn’t smile, but there’s a flicker of approval in his eyes. “Get dressed. We’ll leave in ten.”When he’s gone, she turns to the mirror, studying her face. Her skin’s flushed, maybe from the heat of th
Theon stands in the middle of the room, the silence pulsing. He closes his eyes for a second, tuning into his senses. There it is—the sound of water running, the gentle spray of the shower hitting tile. He can hear her more clearly now. Her presence, her scent, even her breath as it catches against steam.He strides toward the bathroom, his steps deliberate. The door is slightly ajar, letting out a waft of warm mist that clings to his skin as he steps in. Then he sees her.Lumina stands beneath the water, her back turned. Her wet, dark hair clings to her slender back, droplets of water running down her spine like silver. A birthmark in the shape of a flame curves at the right side of her waist. It wasn’t there before—or maybe he hadn’t let himself notice.She flinches, just slightly, her body instinctively sensing him. When she turns, there’s a flash of surprise in her eyes. Then stillness. Her hands rise to shield herself, but halfway through the motion, she stops. Instead, she squar
Outside, Theon’s phone rings. “The meeting will be in an hour as planned,” he says into the device, his voice clipped, barely masking the tension underneath. He had canceled a significant business meeting earlier, all in a moment of recklessness driven by Lumina’s absence. He had been ready to storm PhantomMoon Pack and drag her out himself if necessary. But she had returned. Quietly. Without a word. And in her return, she reminded him of who he was and what still needed to be done. So, he let the meeting stand.Now, he sits in the back seat of his black sedan, his eyes on the blurred scenery sliding past the windows as Bernardo drives in silence. Bernardo watches him now and then through the rearview mirror, always reading, always calculating. They don’t speak for most of the ride. There’s nothing new to say. Not when everything has started to align in ways neither of them expected.The car turns off the main road and pulls into the business district at the heart of NorthHill’s terri
Theon’s rage increases with every passing day.Each hour Lumina stays away adds a weight to his chest, a tight coil of something volatile pressed against his ribs. His hands clench into fists at random, jaw tense, breath sharp. Everyone in the packhouse knows to keep their distance. Even Bernardo, his second, barely speaks unless necessary.“She should have returned by now,” Theon mutters, pacing along the edge of the training grounds. His voice is a low rumble. “She thinks she can run off and I’ll just wait?”He turns toward the car, keys already in hand.“I’ll make her crawl back to me,” he growls, low in his throat, the sound almost inhuman.He throws open the driver’s door, metal creaking in protest, but freezes.A familiar scent lingers in the air, sharp and warm and achingly familiar.Then he hears footsteps.Theon’s eyes snap up, and there she is.Lumina.She steps through the tall gates of the PhantomMoon Pack house like she never left. Her hair moves in the wind, catching sun
Arwan shows up at Shane’s doorstep right on time, just like he said he would. His knock is firm, measured, no hesitation. Shane opens the door first, greeting him with a short nod before stepping aside to let him in. Lumina walks into the room a moment later, wiping her hands on a towel, her dark curls tied loosely back. Her eyes land on him, soft but guarded.“You ready?” Arwan asks, tone light, gaze steady.She gives a small nod, glancing briefly at Shane. “I’ll be back before dinner.”“Call me if anything feels off,” Shane says, eyeing Arwan like she always does—with subtle suspicion hidden beneath the surface.Lumina nods again. “I will.”They leave together, stepping into his black car. The drive is mostly quiet at first. Lumina watches the scenery shift from quiet neighborhood streets to the more urban stretch leading to the restaurant district. Arwan taps the steering wheel with one hand, focused but relaxed.When they arrive, he holds the door open for her, and she steps into