Chapter 4

DUNCAN

I shouldn’t have let her touch me. I shouldn’t have frozen like that when she wrapped her arms around me. But the truth was, I couldn’t move.

It’s been years since I first realized what she was to me. My mate.

Alyssa was eighteen when the bond hit me. I’d gone to visit Kale at his pack, and she’d run out of the house with that wild, stubborn smile of hers, arguing with the guards about something silly. The moment her scent hit me, the world tilted. My wolf had recognized her before I could even breathe.

But I buried it.

She was my best friend’s daughter. And I was eighteen years older than her. There was no universe where that was right.

So I said nothing. Even when Kale complained to me over and over about how his daughter still didn’t have a mate, I kept my mouth shut. I told myself it was for the best.

That she was too young. That I was too broken. That the goddess must have made a mistake.

But seeing her today—standing in my room, looking so fragile and lost—it broke something in me.

The moment she hugged me, every wall I had built started to crumble. Her scent wrapped around me like a spell. My wolf howled in my chest, fighting to take control. He wanted her close. Needed her close.

It took everything I had not to turn around and pull her into me.

When I finally managed to push her hands away and leave the room, my heart was racing so fast I thought it might burst.

Now I sit at the palace bar, staring into a glass of whiskey that I can’t even taste. My reflection in the golden liquid looks like a man at war with himself, and that was exactly what I was.

She doesn’t know. She has no idea what she’s doing to me.

Every time she looks at me, it’s like she’s pulling me closer without even trying. I tried to tell myself it was nothing. That I only cared because she’s Maxwell’s daughter. But the lie doesn’t hold anymore.

The ache in my chest proves it.

I’m supposed to protect her. Keep her safe. But every time she’s near, all I can think about is how right it feels. How wrong it is.

So I do the only thing I can. I pour another drink, lean back, and close my eyes, trying to forget the warmth of her body against mine. I ran my hands through my hair. Sitting here and sipping wine wasn’t helping me at all. I needed a distraction.

I stood to my feet and headed for the pack’s training ground. Maybe if I watched my warriors train and spar with each other, I would be able to take my mind off her.

On my way, I could already feel her presence before she intercepted me, her eyes hazy with something akin to regret and anxiety. I stared at her, betraying no emotion. “Can we talk, please?” she asked, her voice shaky.

I stared at her for what felt like an eternity before rubbing my forehead and sighing in defeat.

I shouldn’t have agreed, honestly. The moment she asked to talk, I already knew nothing good would come out of it. But still, I gave her that curt nod, and she followed me quietly all the way to my room.

The second the door closed behind us, she took a small step toward me, like she wanted to reach out again. I didn’t even think. I pushed her back with one finger on her forehead.

She blinked fast, clearly surprised. “Duncan—”

“Talk,” I said, my voice sharp. “Or I’m sending you out.”

She let out a long sigh, like she’d been holding her breath for hours. “Okay… fine.” She looked down at her fingers before meeting my eyes again. “I just… I wanted to explain something. When I was at my pack, I usually assisted my father at the company. I wasn’t just sitting around, Duncan. I handled paperwork, helped with negotiations, processed files, organized meetings—” She lifted her hand and started counting, going on and on. “I can manage schedules, analyze reports, coordinate events, handle communication—”

I stopped listening to the actual words at some point. Because my eyes refused to leave her lips.

She spoke with that soft, focused look she always had when she was trying to prove a point. And each time she paused, her tongue came out to glide over her bottom lip, like she was thinking. And it was torture. Absolute torture.

All I could think about was what those lips tasted like.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to look away. “Go straight to the point,” I said stiffly.

She exhaled again, heavier this time. “I want to work for you. As your personal assistant. I want to follow you to the office, the palace meetings, everywhere.”

My head snapped toward her instantly.

Absolutely not.

Having her that close all the time? In my space? Breathing my air? Touching my files, my desk, my things? Her scent filling every inch of my office?

That was a one-way ticket to losing every ounce of control I had left.

“No,” I said immediately. “You’ll be safe inside the palace. I’m looking after you. That doesn’t include hiring you.”

Her brows drew together. “Duncan, I can’t just stay idle. I’ll go crazy.”

“Then crochet,” I snapped. “Or knit. Or find something useful to do with your time. But you’re not working in my office.”

She stared at me like I had personally insulted her soul. “Do you hate me that much? Because of what happened a year ago?”

I didn’t respond.

She took my silence personally. “Duncan… I’m over it. That crush I had on you? It’s gone.” Her voice wavered, barely noticeable, but I caught it.

I scoffed loudly. “Don’t lie,” I said flatly.

Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment, but she lifted her chin stubbornly. “I’m not lying.”

I turned away from her. I couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not when my chest was already tight from what happened the other day. “Leave, Alyssa.”

Her breath hitched, like she wasn’t expecting that. And before she could stop herself, words spilled out of her mouth.

“My wolf is dying.”

I froze mid-step.

For a second, I thought I heard her wrong. I slowly turned around, and she was already shaking, her hands gripping her shirt like she was trying to keep herself from falling apart.

“What?” I asked, my voice lower than before.

She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening. “My wolf… she’s fading. I can feel it every single day. And the only way—” Her voice cracked. “The only way both of us can survive is if I stay by your side. I get a sharp pain in my chest whenever I’m away from you, and when we’re together, it’s soothing.”

My jaw clenched. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not,” she whispered.

“I said it’s bullshit.” I turned again, this time reaching for the doorknob because I couldn’t listen to another lie—another excuse—for her to stay close to me.

But the next words that came out of her mouth hit me like a punch to the chest.

“Walk out that door,” she said, her voice trembling but loud enough for every word to sink in, “and I swear to the goddess, you will be responsible for my death.”