Chapter 83
Caron
Well, shit.
I stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city lights blur into constellations of gold and white against the night. The skyline usually calms —orderly, predictable, built by human hands with purpose. Tonight it feels like chaos dressed up in glass and steel.
I rub both hands over my face, trying to clear the noise in my head.
Whitestone.
Starving wolves. Collapsing houses. Vampires prowling at their borders. A so-called rcenary pack bleeding them dry. And in the middle of it all... a vacuum of leadership.
And then the kicker: they want .
. The outsider. The half-human businessman who spent three decades ignorant of his own blood. The one who only stumbled into this world because of fate’s cruel sense of humor.
I scoff under my breath.
Simone is handling their accommodation, setting them up in the guest suites so I don’t have to keep breathing in the scent of desperation clinging to them like a second skin. Lenora didn’t say much after they left—just gave that quiet, assessing look of hers, the one that tells she’s giving space but also cataloguing every crack in my composure.
I lean my forehead against the glass. I should feel flattered, maybe even proud, that they see as an answer. An Alpha. Their Alpha. But all I feel is... cornered.
Because here’s the truth I can’t say out loud: I don’t know how to lead a pack. Not really. Running a billion-dollar empire? Sure. Balancing ledgers, building companies, crushing competitors? That I can do in my sleep. But a pack isn’t a company. They’re not employees. They’re families, bloodlines, traditions. They’re wolves.
And ? I’ve never even had a family.
Lenora... She’d support no matter what. She told that this morning, holding like I was sothing worth anchoring. And maybe that should be enough. But I can still hear her father’s voice in my dream, that maddening calm certainty: It’s ti.
I slam my fist lightly against the glass. The city doesn’t flinch.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I mutter, to no one.
The silence answers back, heavy as stone.
***
Lenora
I sigh.
For the hundredth ti.
My mate is like a newborn—barely taking his first steps as a wolf—and already he’s expected to fucking fly.
I knew this would co, I always knew. But not now. Not this soon.
He doesn’t even realize it, but I see it. The way people’s eyes follow him, the way his presence fills a room without him trying. He already has the aura of an Alpha. Not Alric’s posturing. Not Frederick’s arrogance. Sothing real. Sothing that makes wolves want to follow.
But goddess, it’s too soon.
I know he’d be an amazing Alpha. I know it like I know the bond between us, carved into my soul. But I also know the toll it takes. The sacrifices. The weight that never, ever lifts.
I clench my fists against my thighs, fighting the helplessness bubbling in my chest.
I already know the decision—because at the end of the day, there’s only one choice.
Slowly, I walk toward him where he stands watching the skyline, tall and silent, the city lights painting his profile in shades of gold and shadow.
I wrap my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek against his back. His warmth grounds , though his body feels taut, restless, like he’s holding up a weight too heavy to bear.
That’s all I can do right now. Hold him. Remind him he’s not alone.
"I want to run away," he says quietly, the words so raw they steal my breath.
"I know," I whisper, holding tighter.
"I’m scared."
"I know." My voice cracks, but I force it steady.
"They must have been pretty fucking desperate, to co here." His jaw tightens, and I can feel the muscles in his back ripple under my cheek.
"I know."
The silence between us hums like a taut string ready to snap.
"They’re your family," he says finally.
"Yeah."
He exhales, long and uneven. "That makes it my family."
"Yeah."
Another silence stretches. I want to fill it, to tell him it’s going to be okay—but I can’t promise him that. Not this ti.
He huffs a humorless laugh. "Guess the honeymoon’s over."
Before I can answer, he turns in my arms. His eyes, those brilliant ocean-blue eyes, are shadowed and heavy, yet there’s a spark in them—his strength, his stubbornness, the part of him that never surrenders.
He gathers close, and I let myself lt into him. His lips brush my temple, soft and lingering, before he squeezes tight—like he’s anchoring both of us to this fragile mont before everything changes.
***
Caron
I hold her like I’ll never let her go, because the truth is I don’t know how to keep standing without her.
She hasn’t said it, but I feel it—her certainty. She believes in . She sees sothing in I can’t. And maybe that’s enough.
I bury my face in her hair, breathing in her scent. Lavender and wild forest. Ho. Always ho. For a mont the world outside—the politics, the danger, the impossible expectations—just...stops.
"Hey," she murmurs softly, almost as if she senses the storm inside . "It’s okay."
"Is it?" My voice cos out low, rough, the kind of sound that doesn’t belong in boardrooms or in the life I used to know.
"Worth a shot," she teases gently, though her arms tighten around like she’s holding the pieces of together.
I run a hand down her back, tracing the familiar curve of her spine. "You think I can do this?"
"I don’t think," she says, voice quiet but firm. "I know."
"On the bright side, you literally couldn’t do anything that bad with the shit Alric is pulling," she says, her tone biting but laced with a grim sort of reassurance.
"Yeah... your uncle seems to have lost sothing." My words co slower, heavier.
"That’s one way to put it." She folds her arms, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the city beyond the glass.
User Comments
0 comments from readers