4. Keiro #2
The elevator dinged softly in the distance, carrying his mate away from him and back to a pride that was counting on her to solve problems he'd inadvertently made worse.
Keiro pushed off the wall and headed back toward his office, already mentally cataloging development options and revenue projections.
If Poppy Mintz was going to give him a chance to fix this mess, he was going to make damn sure he had solutions ready.
Hours later, Keiro's hand gripped the edge of his mahogany desk until his knuckles whitened, the scent of wildflowers and rain still clinging to his office like a phantom presence.
He forced himself to focus on the laptop screen, pulling up development portfolios and market analyses for Hudson Valley properties.
Luxury retreats. Event venues. Sustainable housing developments with quick profit turnaround. The numbers blurred together as his wolf's agitation bled through his concentration, making it impossible to think about anything except the way Poppy's eyes had dilated when he'd touched her arm.
Three hours.
He managed to stay focused for exactly three hours before her lingering scent drove him to the edge of madness. His wolf clawed at him, demanding action, demanding answers, demanding their mate's presence with an intensity that made concentration impossible.
"That's enough."
He slammed the laptop shut and grabbed his jacket from the leather chair behind his desk. The financial projections would have to wait—he couldn't think straight with her essence haunting every breath.
Within minutes, the elevator descended through forty-five floors of his empire, each level representing years of calculated decisions and strategic acquisitions.
But none of it felt as important as the woman who'd walked out of his office three hours ago carrying the weight of her pride's survival on her shoulders.
The elevator doors soon opened onto the parking garage that stretched beneath the Meridian complex like a concrete cavern, filled with the gleaming vehicles of Manhattan's elite.
His black Bentley waited in its reserved spot, the custom leather interior still holding traces of his scent from this morning's drive.
Keiro settled behind the wheel and soon pulled into traffic, navigating the twelve blocks to his penthouse with practiced efficiency.
The city blurred past his windows—yellow cabs, pedestrians hurrying along sidewalks, the controlled chaos of Manhattan afternoon rush hour.
But his mind remained fixed on bright blue eyes and the stubborn tilt of a lioness's chin.
The political complications alone should have given him pause.
Wolves and lions had maintained an uneasy truce since the territory disputes twenty-five years ago, when pack and pride conflicts had erupted across North America like wildfire.
The Accord Table had been established to prevent future bloodshed, but his father had refused to join out of some petty grudge with one of the founding Alphas.
That single decision had left the Izell pack politically isolated despite their wealth and influence.
Other Alphas whispered about Marco Izell's pride, questioning whether his son possessed the same fatal flaw.
Keiro had spent sixteen years rebuilding their reputation through careful alliances and strategic partnerships, but mating with and marrying a lioness Alpha would raise eyebrows across shifter society.
Let them whisper.
His wolf's certainty cut through years of political calculation like a blade.
The pack elders might object, Helias would definitely have opinions, and the other wolf Alphas would question his judgment.
But watching Poppy fight for her pride's survival had awakened something primal in him—a need to protect, to provide, to stand beside her as she faced impossible odds.
The underground garage beneath his building welcomed him with familiar shadows and the whisper of expensive engines. His penthouse occupied the entire top floor, accessible only through a private elevator that required both keycard and biometric scanning.
Minutes later, the doors opened onto a space that reflected his personality with uncomfortable accuracy—minimalist furniture arranged with geometric precision, floor-to-ceiling windows offering commanding views of the city, everything controlled and organized down to the last detail.
No clutter. No chaos. No evidence that anyone actually lived here rather than simply existing between business meetings and his trips back to his pack territory in the Catskills.
This is what she'd be getting. A man who's forgotten how to be anything except efficient.
The thought hit harder than expected as he crossed the marble foyer toward his bedroom. Poppy deserved someone who could offer her more than financial solutions and strategic partnerships. She deserved passion, spontaneity, the kind of love that existed beyond spreadsheets and profit margins.
His phone rang before he reached the hallway, the sharp sound echoing off glass and steel surfaces. Unknown number. His pulse spiked as he answered on the second ring.
"Keiro speaking."
"It's Poppy." Her voice carried through the speaker like warm honey over broken glass—sweet but edged with something that could cut. "I've made my decision."
The words hit his chest like a freight train, anticipation and dread warring beneath his ribs. His wolf surged forward immediately, demanding to know whether their mate would accept the partnership or disappear forever.
The silence stretched between them, vibrating with unspoken possibilities and the weight of decisions that would reshape both their futures.