The city of Silvercrest had a way of looking too bright at times, streets glittering under the late afternoon sun like gold dust. But to Lauretta Owens, the sunlight was meaningless. It did nothing to illuminate the turmoil that had taken root inside her chest. She sat at her glass desk in LuneArt Studios, the sharp lines of her office and the bold colors of her canvases blurred by the storm in her mind. Every brushstroke on the wall seemed dull compared to the vivid images of him that refused to leave her thoughts.
Savior Hunt.
She tried to tell herself it had been just one night. A fleeting connection. A dangerous encounter that shouldn't have mattered. Yet his face, his voice, his scent - all of it was lodged in her like a living thing. Every time she closed her eyes, she could hear his low, confident tones echoing in her ears, smell the faint cedar and musk that clung to him like an invisible trail. Even in the daylight, even surrounded by work and responsibility, her body remembered him.
Her laptop sat open, cursor blinking, a silent accusation. She had begun "researching" him. Not because she wanted to, but because she couldn't stop herself. His name typed into search bars yielded profiles, news articles, and sleek photographs - all of which pulled her deeper into obsession. Each image of him, every news snippet about the Hunt family, sent a pang of longing and irritation through her chest. She hated that she wanted him so badly, hated that he had invaded her thoughts without permission.
And yet... she couldn't stop.
Hated that he was her enemy, someone she couldn't have.
Her phone buzzed sharply, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. Angela's name flashed on the screen. Relief and dread collided as she answered.
"Angela," she said, forcing a casual tone she didn't feel.
"I can hear it in your voice," Angela replied immediately, no greeting, no small talk. "Don't even try to pretend you're fine. You've been staring at his pictures again, haven't you?"
"I... no," Lauretta said quickly, though her voice sounded fragile even to her own ears.
Angela snorted. "Right. Totally normal behavior: CEO of a successful art studio, late afternoon, staring at a man's photos online like a lovesick teenager. You're obsessive, Lauretta. Admit it."
Lauretta pressed her forehead against her desk. "I'm not obsessive," she whispered.
"You are," Angela said bluntly. "Obsessed, infatuated, wrapped around his finger, whatever you want to call it. And you're heading straight for disaster."
"I can't help it," Lauretta admitted, almost inaudibly. "It's like... like he's in my blood. Everywhere I go, everything I do, he's there. I can't think about anyone else. I... I hate it, but I... I can't stop."
Angela's voice softened, just slightly. "I know. I've seen this before. But listen - you've got to get a grip. You're letting a man you barely know control your every thought. You're brilliant, you're capable, and you're letting him steal your headspace."
Lauretta groaned. "I know. I know! But it's not like that. He's... I don't know. He's everything and nothing, and it's maddening."
"Exactly," Angela said with a sharp laugh. "Maddening. Dangerously maddening. And you're loving it."
Before Lauretta could respond, a knock sounded at her office door. Mara, her assistant, appeared with a hesitant expression.
"Sorry to interrupt, Lauretta," Mara said softly, holding a folder, "but there's a client proposal that needs your approval. And... someone is here asking for you. He said it's urgent."
Lauretta's stomach twisted. She didn't need Mara to say his name. She felt it before she saw him: that magnetic pull in the air, the subtle shift in temperature, the almost instinctual awareness that someone had entered her space and was dangerous.
Angela, still on speakerphone, let out a sharp, knowing intake of breath. "Don't tell me-"
Lauretta cut her off with a quick, "Send him in." Her voice trembled slightly despite her attempt at calm.
The office door opened, and the man entered. Every detail of him was vivid in her senses: broad shoulders, dark tailored suit, the faint, intoxicating scent of cedar and something wilder beneath it, the confidence that radiated from him like heat.
Savior Hunt.
Angela's gasp echoed through the speaker. "Oh. Ohhhh. That explains everything."
Lauretta's chest tightened. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, senses flaring. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but every part of her craved him closer.
Savior's eyes locked onto hers, intense and unyielding. He didn't smile, didn't offer casual greetings. He simply was, and the room seemed to shrink until it was only them.
"Hello, Lauretta," he said, low and deliberate, voice carrying that dangerous edge that set her pulse racing.
Angela, undeterred, continued, her voice teasing: "Yep. Totally obsessed. Classic look: eyes wide, jaw tight, about three seconds from spontaneously combusting. This is why I live, watching you unravel."
Lauretta groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Angela! I'm trying to handle this professionally!"
Savior leaned against the desk, eyes never leaving hers. "You've been thinking about me," he said, almost as a statement, not a question. "You can't hide it."
Her breath hitched. Angela's words echoed in her mind: Obsessed. The truth burned, sharp but undeniable.
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed violently. She glanced down and saw a message from her father:
We need to talk. Now. About Hexta Hunt.
Her blood ran cold. Savior noticed immediately, his gaze sharpening, the alpha in him sensing the threat in her sudden panic.
"We go together," he said firmly, gripping her hand with surprising strength. "I'm not leaving you."
Angela's voice broke through, sharp and excited: "Ohhh! Protective mode activated! Alpha alert! This is exactly why I'm here! Popcorn ready!"
Lauretta ignores her, can't get over the fact that Savior held her hands which sent fire and desire through her body.
"You're welcome!" Angela chirped. "Go! Handle your chaos! And don't get eaten or cursed or whatever Hunt family men do."
The call clicks.
Savior not being aware of the call, eyes glued to Lauretta.
Savior leaned in closer, face inches from hers. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, low and magnetic. "Not for a second."
Her chest heaved. Her wolf stirred, instincts raw, senses heightened. Desire warred with reason, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself feel the pull completely.
Savior walks to her, close, heated, and takes off the ear pods on her ears brushing against her earrings.
Lauretta's heart pounds, eyes heated with desire.
Every sense was on high alert. The streets of Silvercrest seemed to hum around them, the sunlight glinting off buildings and cars, but she only noticed him.
"You need to leave" Lauretta choked out.
Savior looks at her intently, "I'm not going anywhere "
"Savior...."
"Lauretta don't you get it, I'm literally losing my mind every single day, thinking of you and now I'm here you're telling me to leave?" Savior said.
"Leave " She said averting his gaze.
"You and I know you don't mean it" He said
"I do"
" Look at me, and say it"
Lauretta breathes out, calming her wolf and looks up.
"Leave, Savior" her silver eyes glistening in the sun.
Savior stares, desire builds up.
Lauretta turns away, "if you have nothing else to say, please leave, I have work to do"
Her wolf cries out badly but she can't continue to fall for him anymore, he's driving her insane.
She really needs to stay away from him, even if it hurts.
Savior's shoes click to ground, as he walks towards the door and stops.
"We will meet again, Lauretta"
And then, from a shadowed rooftop across the street, a pair of eyes followed them. Not Hexta Hunt, not an enemy she recognized, but someone tied to Lauretta's past - someone who knew the secrets of her mother's exile, someone who had waited a long time to see this moment.
The observer's lips curved into a faint, almost predatory smile.
This is going to be far more interesting than I expected.
Lauretta didn't know it yet, but her obsession, her desire, and her dangerous connection with Savior Hunt were about to collide with forces she couldn't even imagine.
