My fingers tighten around the phone 75

than’s POV
I slammed the door to my private quarters, the heavy oak reverberating through the frame but barely containing the
storm of emotions raging inside me. My muscles coiled with tension as I paced across the room, each step resonating
with the fury of an alpha denied. Felix, my wolf, prowled restlessly beneath my skin, his agitation matching my own. His
discomfort manifested as a physical ache, a burning sensation spreading across my chest and tightening my throat.
Aria’s parting words echoed in my mind, each syllable like a blade twisting deeper: “Take your precious Emma and get
out of my world!” The cold fury in her amber eyes had been unmistakable, cutting through all my defenses.
With a barely suppressed growl, I yanked at my tie, tossing the expensive silk onto a nearby chair. My fingers raked
through my hair, disheveling the carefully styled locks as I struggled to make sense of my churning thoughts.
“Why does she affect me this way?” I muttered to the empty room, my voice rough with frustration. Felix whined in
response, pushing against my consciousness with unusual insistence.
I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift back to that rainy night six years ago. The memories came in vivid flashes,
breaking through the haze of alcohol that had clouded that evening. I remembered the thunderstorm raging outside,
raindrops hammering against the resort windows like desperate fists. The sound had almost drowned out the music from
the party downstairs, where I’d been drinking to numb the pain of losing pack members in a wild wolf attack days earlier.
I recalled stumbling down the corridor, my vision blurring as I searched for my room. The key card wouldn’t work—or
perhaps I was at the wrong door. I pushed against it anyway, surprised when it opened easily. The room beyond was
dimly lit, and there she was—a figure whose face remained frustratingly shadowed in my memory, but whose scent hit
me with startling clarity. Something uniquely feminine, something that called to Felix instantly.
My wolf had surged forward with a possessiveness I’d never experienced before. Mine, he’d growled. Mate. The
recognition had been primal, instinctive, cutting through my drunken haze. I remembered approaching her, seeing her
sway unsteadily on her feet. Had she been drugged? The thought hadn’t occurred to me then, but now…
She had been underneath me, her body soft yet somehow unyielding. There had been resistance, tears—details I’d tried
to bury beneath my sense of responsibility. Her skin had been warm against mine, but her movements sluggish, her
attempts to push me away growing weaker. I’d been drunk, out of control, my alpha instincts overriding all rational
thought. Felix had recognized her as ours, even when my human consciousness was too inebriated to function properly.
I still remember the last moment when I was with her. A protective instinct had surfaced, foreign yet undeniable. I
remembered fumbling with the clasp of my silver wolf fang necklace—the clan heirloom passed to each alpha heir—my
fingers clumsy but determined.
“Find me again,” I’d whispered, carefully placing the silver pendant in her limp hand, closing her fingers around it. The
metal had gleamed in the dim light, the wolf fang catching the faint glow from the bedside lamp. It was my most
precious possession, yet in that moment, leaving it with her had felt right—a beacon that might lead her back to me.
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I’d fallen asleep beside her, my wolf content and peaceful for the first time in months. But when morning came, I’d
awakened alone in my room—somehow transported back during the night’s chaos when wild wolves had approached
the territory. She was gone, taking with her both my necklace and a piece of my soul that Felix had recognized as
belonging to her. In the years that followed, I couldn’t shake her from my thoughts. I’d sent people searching, hoping
against hope that the silver wolf fang would eventually lead her back to me.
“Emma,” I whispered now, testing the name on my tongue. It felt wrong, discordant. Felix growled his disagreement, a
sound that reverberated through my chest.
I’d spent months believing that night had been with Emma, carrying the burden of responsibility for my actions. When
she’d approached me, tears in her eyes and my silver wolf fang necklace clutched in her trembling hand, I’d never
questioned her story. She’d described details of the room, mentioned the storm, shown me the necklace as irrefutable
proof. I’d accepted the obligation without question. It was what an honorable alpha would do.
But something had always felt off about Emma’s claim. Felix never responded to her the way an alpha wolf should react
to his mate. Her scent never called to us, never stirred that primal recognition that should exist between true pairs. I’d
dismissed these doubts, attributing them to my own reluctance to be tied down.
Until Aria.
The moment she’d walked into the training camp that first day, something had shifted inside me like tectonic plates
rearranging the very foundation of my being. Despite her lack of wolf scent—or perhaps because of it—she’d caught my
attention in a way no other woman ever had. There was something hauntingly familiar about her, something that called
to my wolf with magnetic intensity.
The morning light had caught in her raven-black hair, creating a halo effect that emphasized her striking features—high
cheekbones, full lips that rarely smiled, and those extraordinary amber eyes that seemed to hold secrets from another world.
The fierce determination in her eyes told stories of battles fought and won, of hardships overcome through sheer force of
will. Here was a woman who had been broken but had rebuilt herself into something stronger, more resilient.
Even without her wolf, she carried herself with the dignity and power of an alpha female. Her presence filled rooms without effort, drawing eyes and attention naturally.
I shook my head, how could I effortlessly think of so many Aria benefits?