Chapter 2

Michael’s POV

The scent hit him before the sight of her did.

Soft. Warm. A subtle blend of vanilla and something wilder—like fresh rain on pine bark. It curled through the air and wrapped around him, seductive and grounding all at once. It was maddening.

Michael stepped through the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, the sound of polished shoes against marble dulled beneath the thunder of his own heartbeat. He kept his pace measured, predatory in nature—quiet, purposeful, controlled—but every nerve in his body was coiled tight.

She was close.

His wolf stirred restlessly beneath the surface, pacing just beneath his skin, snarling with urgency and need. It took everything in him not to let instinct override reason.

He saw her then—seated at the bar, her back partially turned, unaware of the storm that had entered the room. Her profile was delicate but strong. That rich, dark hair cascaded over one shoulder in soft waves, and her light brown eyes held a fire of intelligence behind their stillness.

Mate.

It wasn’t just a whisper now. It was a declaration. A truth that reverberated through his bones.

She had no idea.

Michael moved slowly, making his way to the opposite side of the long marble bar. He chose a seat directly across from her—not too close, not too far. From here, he could study her. Watch how she twirled the edge of her napkin absently. How she kept glancing toward the elevator like she was waiting for someone. How her lips pressed together slightly when she was deep in thought.

He didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.

She was… breathtaking.

Not in the artificial way of plastic perfection. But in the rare, jaw-clenching kind of way that stirred something ancient in him. She looked like light incarnate—an effortless beauty born of warmth and substance, not polish. Her soul radiated through her expressions, through the slight dimples that appeared when the bartender said something amusing.

Michael clenched his jaw. She smiled like that at strangers?

He didn’t like the sudden jolt of possessiveness in his chest, but it came anyway. Sharp. Fierce. Instinctual.

The bartender approached him, but Michael waved him off with a small nod. He didn’t want anything. Not right now. His focus was on her.

From this distance, he could hear her heartbeat. Smooth, steady. Unaware of the danger—or salvation—sitting across from her.

She shifted, glancing around the room again. For a moment, her gaze hovered in his direction, and Michael stilled completely.

Would she recognize him? Feel it? That strange gravity between them?

But her eyes moved past him. She hadn’t noticed.

Yet.

Good.

He didn’t want to approach her like a brute. She was human—at least as far as he could tell—and fragile compared to his world. He needed to tread carefully. Cautiously.

Still, the urge to close the distance between them was almost unbearable. To touch her, to speak her name even though he didn’t yet know it. To hear the sound of her voice directed at him.

Soon, he told himself.

Just a little longer.

He leaned back in his chair, draping one arm over the backrest as he studied her with all the intensity of a predator watching prey—not to harm, but to claim.

She didn’t know it yet.

But she belonged to him.

——————

Anna

She’d only been sitting for a few minutes, but something felt… off.

Not in a scary way. Not like she was in danger. It was more like a presence—something heavy and magnetic lingering just behind her skin. Like walking into a room that had been quiet moments before, but now held an invisible charge.

Anna sipped the mocktail the bartender had suggested—a citrusy something that was refreshingly tart—and scanned the lobby again.

No one. Nothing.

Just a busy hotel bar with luxury dripping from the ceilings and the low murmur of people living lives far more extravagant than hers.

Then, without fanfare, Dawn came trotting back around the corner, holding her phone high like a trophy.

“Got it!” she grinned, slightly out of breath. “I swear, I’m losing it. I left it right by the time clock. Again.”

Anna stood to give her a teasing bow. “I don’t know how they’re going to survive without you and your phone-leaving shenanigans.”

Dawn plopped onto the stool next to her and exhaled like she’d just escaped a warzone. “Honestly? They’ll probably throw a party the second I’m out the door. But I am free. It’s over.”

“You sure you’re not going to miss it? Even a little?” Anna asked, genuinely curious.

“Not even a tiny bit,” Dawn said. “I’ve been here three years, Anna. I practically have bellhop uniforms memorized. I’m ready for the next chapter—real hours, a real office, real patients.”

Anna smiled, feeling proud of her friend. “Well, then we’re celebrating.”

The bartender, a polished guy with kind eyes and a navy vest, walked over as if on cue. “I heard a rumor this one’s leaving us today,” he said, nodding at Dawn.

“Word travels fast,” Dawn replied, smirking.

“We’ll miss you, D. It won’t be the same without your sass during the lunch rush.” He reached beneath the counter. “One ‘see-you-later’ drink on the house. Your usual?”

Dawn lit up. “You’re the best, Corey.”

Corey turned his attention to Anna. “You need anything else?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Anna said, lifting her glass slightly. “This is actually perfect.”

He gave her a quick wink and moved down the bar to prepare Dawn’s drink.

They both relaxed into the comfort of the moment—two friends with nowhere urgent to be and just enough space to breathe. The tension in Anna’s shoulders began to melt.

Still…

She leaned a little closer to Dawn and lowered her voice. “Okay, I know this sounds weird, but… something feels off.”

Dawn’s brow furrowed. “Off how?”

“I don’t know,” Anna admitted, twirling the straw in her glass. “Not in a creepy way. More like…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “like someone’s watching me.”

Dawn immediately did a slow, deliberate scan of the room. “You don’t mean Corey, right? Because I promise he’s got a fiancé and is obsessed with her.”

“No,” Anna said quickly, laughing a little. “It’s not him. It’s just… a vibe. Like… energy? And I can’t shake it.”

Dawn looked over her shoulder again, this time more subtle, then turned back. “Could be the big guy who came in a few minutes ago. He’s been sitting across from you this whole time. Definitely not a regular.”

Anna blinked. “What guy?”

“Dark suit, cigar, intensity level set to brooding Alpha billionaire. Trust me, you’d have noticed him if you weren’t so lost in citrus-ville over there.”

Anna’s heart gave a strange little stutter.

She turned her head, trying not to make it obvious, but—sure enough—he was there. Seated across the bar. Watching her.

No, not just watching. Studying.

He was easily a foot taller than most men in the room, even seated. His hair was dark with streaks of silver, but it only made him more striking. Strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, piercing blue eyes that felt like they could see more than just surface-level things.

The moment her eyes met his, she felt… still.

Like time pulled in around them. Not uncomfortable. But intense.

Anna quickly looked away and took a long sip from her drink.

“Yeah,” she said under her breath, “that might be it.”

Dawn smirked into her glass. “I told you. That man’s not from around here. He’s either European royalty or the kind of guy you don’t ask questions about.”

Anna shook her head and laughed softly, trying to ignore the warmth crawling up her neck.

But something inside her had already shifted.

She didn’t know his name. Didn’t know why he was there. But as his gaze lingered like a secret across the polished bar, Anna couldn’t deny it.

Something was coming.

And for the first time in a long time…

She didn’t want to run from it.

—————

Michael

Michael hadn’t moved in ten minutes.

He sat still, his forearms resting casually on the bar, fingers loosely clasped, as if he were simply a man killing time in an upscale hotel lounge. But every nerve in his body was on high alert—tracking her every movement, every shift in posture, every glance.

She was even more beautiful up close.

There was a quiet confidence about her. Not forced. Not the kind that demanded attention. She didn’t need to. The room seemed to adjust to her presence without realizing it—like she belonged to a different rhythm altogether.

He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, discreetly opening a thread with David.

Michael: Move the meeting.

Michael: One hour minimum.

David: Are you sure? This is the London proposal.

Michael: They need us as much as we need them. Maybe more.

Michael: Handle it.

He slipped the phone away without waiting for a response. He didn’t need confirmation. David would take care of it—and if not, well, they’d all learn that Alpha time wasn’t wasted on convenience.

The deal with the human conglomerate would still be there in sixty minutes. It was a high-risk, high-reward deal, but Michael had already vetted every angle. His pack’s technology and land access were worth billions. The humans needed him, not the other way around.

But this… this was something he couldn’t afford to miss.

She shifted again in her seat, laughing softly at something her friend said. Then, just for a moment, she looked toward him.

Their eyes met.

And Michael’s entire world stopped.

Her gaze was sharper than he expected—intelligent and probing, but with a softness that made his breath catch. She looked away quickly, cheeks flushing slightly as she refocused on her drink.

It was time.

Michael stood slowly and crossed the distance between them with calculated ease, every step purposeful. Her friend noticed him first, subtly stiffening as he approached. Protective. Loyal.

But his eyes never left Anna.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, and commanding without effort. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Anna turned toward him, and for a second, he saw it—that same stillness. That same pull.

He extended a hand. “I’m Michael.”

She hesitated, then slowly reached out. “Anna.”

The moment their hands touched, his skin burned with recognition. Warm. Electric. As if the universe itself had been holding its breath for this moment.

“Anna,” he repeated softly, letting the name linger.

Her friend cleared her throat, clearly trying to assess his intentions. Michael nodded in her direction. “And you are?”

“Dawn,” she replied, cautious.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” He looked back at Anna. “I was just… passing through. But I saw you sitting here and… well, it felt wrong not to introduce myself.”

Anna arched a brow, intrigued. “Do you always walk up to strangers in hotel bars?”

Michael offered a faint smile. “Never.”

She blinked, as if processing whether he was serious—and she must’ve seen something in his face that confirmed he wasn’t lying.

“Okay,” she said, slowly. “Well… hello, Michael.”

“Hello, Anna.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was dense. Charged. Like something ancient stirring in the background, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

Anna looked at Dawn briefly, who gave her a tiny shrug and a raised brow—the universal your call, but damn, he’s hot look.

Anna turned back and nodded. “Sure. We’re just having a drink.”

Michael sat, careful to leave just enough space between them while still claiming his presence. Close, but not crowding.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said, though they all knew he didn’t mean it.

“You’re not,” Anna replied, her tone soft—but curious. “But I do have to ask…”

“Yes?”

She studied him for a moment, as if trying to read something written between the lines. “Why did you really come over here?”

Michael’s expression didn’t change. But his answer was honest.

“Because something told me if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”