“Alaric?”
My voice fractured the moment his name left my lips. Saying it out loud—after so many years—felt like ripping open an old wound that had never truly healed. Memories surged in all at once: his laugh, the way his wolf always stepped in front of mine, the warmth of home I’d abandoned.
There was a brief pause on the line.
“…How have you been?” he asked quietly.
“I’m okay,” he added before I could answer. Then, softer, sharper, “But you don’t sound like it. What’s wrong?”
My throat tightened. Even now—after nine years of silence—he could hear the truth beneath my words.
“I—” I tried to lie. The instinct was there, automatic. But the lie collapsed before it could take shape. “No. I’m really not okay.”
His breath shifted on the other end. “Tell me.”
I curled my fingers around the phone, staring out the cab window as city lights streaked past like falling stars. “Things here… they’re not what I thought they’d be,” I said slowly. “I kept telling myself I could make it work. That if I tried harder, it would get better.”
A tear slipped free despite my efforts.
“But it didn’t,” I whispered. “Alaric… I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to come back.”
“Come home.”
He didn’t hesitate. No interrogation. No bitterness. Just two words, steady and sure, wrapping around my heart like my brother’s wolf used to when I was scared.
“I’ll send you a location,” he continued. “Stay there tonight. We’ll handle the rest once you’re safe. You don’t have to figure everything out alone.”
My chest ached. “Thank you.”
“You never needed to thank me,” he replied.
---
Two hours later, I sat on the edge of a perfectly made hotel bed, hands twisting together in my lap. The room smelled faintly of cedar and expensive linen, too pristine to feel real. Every sound in the hallway made my spine tense.
Footsteps stopped outside my door.
The knock startled me so badly I nearly dropped my phone. My heart slammed against my ribs as I stood, dread coiling tight in my chest. For one terrifying second, I imagined Nathaniel on the other side—angry, possessive, demanding explanations.
I opened the door anyway.
The man standing there wasn’t Nathaniel.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that looked perpetually tousled and sharp green eyes that assessed everything without being unkind. His leather jacket carried the faint scent of smoke and cold night air. Stubble shadowed his jaw, and there was something unmistakably wolfish about the way he stood—alert, controlled, dangerous if provoked.
“Mara?” he asked, voice low and rough around the edges. “I’m Kieran. Alaric sent me.”
I stayed where I was, studying him. He didn’t crowd the doorway. Didn’t push. His presence was solid but restrained—like a wolf who knew exactly how strong he was.
“Is it alright if I come in?”
After a beat, I stepped aside.
He entered smoothly, the room somehow shrinking around him despite his relaxed movements. His gaze flicked briefly to my packed bag near the bed, then back to my face.
“You holding together?” he asked.
“I think so.” I folded my arms, resisting the urge to pace. “Just trying to catch up with reality.”
“That’s fair,” he said, leaning against the wall, hands tucked casually into his jacket pockets.
Silence stretched for a moment.
“So,” I said finally, “how long have you known my brother?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Long enough.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“That’s intentional.” There was a trace of dry humor in his tone.
I exhaled through my nose. “Alright. Then what do you do?”
“I work with Alaric.”
“Doing what?”
He glanced at his watch instead of answering. “Our ride will be here in about ten minutes. We’ll stop by your place, pick up whatever you want to bring, then head straight to the airport.”
“Wait—ride?” I blinked. “Airport?”
“And a limo,” he added casually.
“A limo?” I stared at him. “Isn’t that… a bit much?”
“Not really.”
“For who?”
“For someone your brother wants protected.”
The way he said it sent a strange chill down my spine.
“You’re being very cryptic,” I said.
Kieran smiled again—calm, unreadable. “Alaric prefers things handled properly.”
The hotel suite.
The private transport.
This man who looked more like an enforcer than an errand runner.
None of it matched the brother I remembered—the scrappy Alpha-in-training who’d patched roofs and worked double shifts to keep our pack afloat.
“You can tell I’m surprised,” I said.
“Yeah,” Kieran replied. “Most people are.”
“I just didn’t expect this level of… everything,” I gestured vaguely. “So who exactly are you?”
“Someone your brother trusts with his life,” he answered simply.
His phone buzzed. He glanced at it. “Car’s early. Ready?”
---
The limo’s interior gleamed under soft lighting—polished wood, chrome trim, seats upholstered in impossibly soft leather. I ran my fingers along the armrest as I slid inside, still half-convinced I was dreaming.
“This is unreal,” I muttered.
Kieran took the seat beside me, filling the space without crowding it. “Not what you pictured?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Nathaniel had money, sure, but this… this feels different.”
“In what way?”
“More controlled,” I said after a moment. “Like power that doesn’t need to show off.”
He didn’t argue.
The drive passed in silence, city lights washing over us. I felt his attention on me more than once, though he never stared outright.
When the limo stopped in front of my apartment building, Kieran nodded toward the door. “I’ll wait. Take whatever you need.”
I stepped out, hands trembling as I fumbled with my keys. The elevator ride felt endless, my thoughts racing ahead of me.
When I opened my apartment door and stepped inside—
Everything fell apart.
