8. Keiro
EIGHT
KEIRO
The Bentley's engine hummed through the darkness as Keiro navigated the winding roads between Hudson Valley and Manhattan, his hands steady on the wheel despite the chaos churning through his mind.
Two hours of sitting in the car had stretched ahead of them when they finally left Poppy's estate—two hours to process the most life-altering day he'd experienced since inheriting his father's legacy at eighteen.
He glanced toward the passenger seat, where Poppy had finally surrendered to exhaustion.
Her head rested against the window, her dark hair spilling across her shoulder like silk, and for the first time since he'd met her, the weight of leadership wasn't carved into her features.
Sleep had smoothed away the tension lines around her eyes, the defensive set of her jaw, and the constant vigilance that seemed as much a part of her as breathing.
She only got two hours of sleep last night because of me.
The guilt hit him fresh and sharp. His impulsive bid at the auction last night had kept her awake, probably panicking about losing everything she'd spent eleven years protecting.
Then today—the partnership proposal, dinner at her estate, and the attack by rogue lions that left them both bleeding and bandaged.
Twenty-four hours that had turned both their worlds upside down.
The mate bond tugged at him relentlessly, a golden thread connecting him to her, growing stronger with each mile they traveled together toward his penthouse.
The scent of wildflowers and rain filled the enclosed space, wrapping around him like a warm caress that made concentration nearly impossible.
Focus on driving.
But watching her sleep in his passenger seat, seeing her there in his personal space, it felt impossibly right, like she'd always belonged there.
The fierce lioness who'd dominated that rogue male lion in combat, who'd killed without hesitation to protect her territory, to protect him—she belonged by his side.
The memory of their battle sent heat through his veins.
He'd known she was dangerous, had sensed the predator beneath her composure, but seeing her in action had been breathtaking.
The way she'd moved in lioness form—fluid power and calculated strikes, every motion designed for maximum damage.
She'd fought like the apex predator she was, and they'd moved together like they'd been partners for years instead of strangers thrown together by fate.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as another wave of possessive satisfaction crashed through him. This woman—this fierce, brilliant, impossibly stubborn Alpha—was his.
She's my equal in every way.
But the political implications made his jaw clench.
Helias would lose his mind when he discovered Keiro's fated mate was a lioness Alpha.
The pack elder had spent years pushing suitable wolf females in Keiro's direction, muttering about pure bloodlines and tradition and the importance of strengthening pack bonds through proper alliances.
Let him object. Poppy is worth fighting for.
The thought surprised him with its vehemence. He'd known Poppy for less than forty-eight hours, but already the idea of anyone questioning her worth, of anyone suggesting she wasn't perfect for him, made his wolf snarl with protective fury.
Poppy stirred slightly, a soft sound escaping her lips as she moved against the window. The mate bond pulsed between them, and Keiro had to fight the urge to reach over and touch her, to offer comfort even in sleep.
The city lights began to appear on the horizon, Manhattan's skyline glittering like scattered diamonds against the night sky. Soon they'd reach his penthouse, and he'd have to wake her, have to watch her walls slam back into place as reality intruded on this quiet moment.
But for now, she was safe beside him, finally getting the rest she desperately needed.
And despite the complications ahead—the pack politics, the pride dynamics, the financial crisis still hanging over her head like a sword—Keiro found himself smiling as he drove through the darkness with his sleeping mate.
Thirty minutes later, the underground garage of his building appeared ahead, security gates recognizing his vehicle and sliding open with mechanical precision. Keiro eased the Bentley into his reserved space, the engine's rumble echoing off the concrete walls before falling silent.
He sat for a moment and studied Poppy's sleeping form against the window. Her breathing was deep and even, exhaustion keeping her under despite the change in motion. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, a testament to the stress she'd been carrying, and something protective and fierce rose in his chest.
She's been fighting alone for too long.
Moving carefully to avoid waking her, Keiro exited the vehicle and retrieved her overnight bag from the backseat.
The leather was worn but well-maintained, practical rather than luxurious—so perfectly her that it made his chest tight with unexpected emotion.
Then he opened the passenger door very slowly and leaned down quickly, sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back.
She stirred as he lifted her, but didn't wake, instead mumbling something unintelligible against his chest.
"Rest," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "You're safe now."
The words seemed to reach her even in sleep.
Her body relaxed into his embrace, and a soft smile curved her lips as she unconsciously pressed closer to his warmth.
The trust implicit in the gesture hit him like a tidal wave—this woman who fought the world daily was allowing herself to be vulnerable with him.
Seconds later, the private elevator carried them silently upward, and Keiro found himself memorizing every detail—the weight of her in his arms, the way her hair caught the elevator's soft lighting, and the scent of wildflowers that clung to her skin.
When the doors finally opened to reveal his penthouse, he moved through the space with careful steps, not wanting to disturb her rest.
His bedroom was all clean lines and controlled luxury, the massive bed dominating the space with its dark wood frame. Keiro set her bag down gently before lowering Poppy onto the mattress, his movements reverent as he tucked the covers around her sleeping form.
She stirred again, and he froze, but she only smiled in her sleep and curled deeper into the blankets that carried his scent. The sight of her in his bed, surrounded by his scent and finally at peace, sent satisfaction coursing through every cell in his body.
Mine.
The mate bond pulled at him as he moved to the other side of the bed, demanding closer contact, demanding he wrap her in his arms and never let go. His wolf wanted to curl around their mate, to offer warmth and protection through the night.
But she hadn't consciously agreed to share his bed, even if her subconscious mind seemed perfectly content with the arrangement. Keiro stretched out on top of the covers, maintaining careful distance even as every instinct urged him to eliminate the space between them.
He closed his eyes and tried to find sleep, her scent filling every breath and the steady rhythm of her breathing creating a peace he hadn't experienced in far too many years.
For the first time since inheriting impossible responsibilities at eighteen, Keiro felt like he might finally have found something worth more than duty.
Dawn crept through the windows of Keiro's penthouse bedroom, painting everything in shades of gold and amber.
He surfaced from sleep gradually, awareness returning in layers—the familiar scent of cedar from his sheets, the distant hum of Manhattan traffic forty stories below, and something else.
Something that made his wolf purr with deep satisfaction. Wildflowers and rain.
Poppy.
His eyes opened fully to find her pressed against his side, her dark hair spilling across his chest like silk. At some point during the night, she'd migrated toward him, drawn by the same magnetic pull that had his arms aching to wrap around her sleeping form.
She came to me in her sleep.
The thought sent fierce satisfaction coursing through his veins. Some part of her recognized what they were to each other. Or perhaps her lioness had sought the comfort and protection his wolf offered, had trusted him enough to curl against him in sleep.
The mate bond hummed between them, stronger now with proximity.
His wolf wanted to roll her beneath him, to wake her with kisses and claim what was theirs.
The urge was almost overwhelming—to thread his fingers through that silky hair, to taste the pulse point at her throat, to map every inch of her skin with his large hands.
But she hadn't consciously chosen this closeness. She'd fallen asleep exhausted and overwhelmed, and her subconscious mind had simply sought comfort where it could find it. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake feeling vulnerable or exposed.
Control yourself.
Easy to think, nearly impossible to execute when every breath filled his lungs with her scent and when the warmth of her body pressed against his side made his pulse race.
She stirred against him as consciousness began to return.
Keiro held perfectly still, not wanting to startle her, but his wolf was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Her breathing changed first, becoming less deep and regular.
Then her muscles tensed as she realized where she was and who she was pressed against.
Poppy's eyes flew open, those bright blue depths meeting his molten gold gaze for one electric moment before she registered their position. Her pupils dilated as she took in the sight of herself curled against him, her leg thrown over his thigh, and her hand splayed across his chest.
"Oh my god." She pulled back so quickly she nearly fell off the bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"
Her cheeks flushed pink as she looked around the bedroom, taking in the masculine décor, the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Manhattan's skyline, and the expensive furnishings that screamed wealth and control.
"How did I get here?" Her voice carried that sharp edge he was beginning to recognize as her default when she felt exposed or vulnerable.
"You fell asleep in the car on the drive here." He kept his voice gentle, non-threatening, even as his wolf protested the distance she'd put between them. "You were sleeping so soundly, and I didn't want to wake you. So I carried you up."
The flush in her cheeks deepened, and he watched her process that information. She'd been unconscious and vulnerable, and he'd taken care of her without taking advantage. The surprise in her expression suggested that kind of consideration wasn't something she'd ever experienced.
"I—" She started to stand, clearly planning to flee, but Keiro moved faster than thought. His hand closed gently around her wrist, not restraining but requesting.
"Poppy."
She froze at his touch, and he felt a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm at the contact. The mate bond flared, demanding more, demanding everything, but he forced himself to maintain control.
"I know things are complicated." His thumb brushed across her pulse point, feeling her pulse race beneath his touch. "And I know you might feel embarrassed right now, but I really liked having you curled up beside me."
The admission hung between them, raw and honest. Her breath caught, and for a moment he thought she might pull away entirely. But then her shoulders relaxed slightly, and some of the defensive tension left her posture.
"I am embarrassed right now. Embarrassed by how I instinctively curled up against you in my sleep." Her voice was quieter now, more vulnerable than he'd ever heard it. "But I can't deny that I felt safe in your bed. That I feel safe with you."
Her words hit him like a revelation, satisfaction and possessive pride roaring through his chest. This fierce woman, this Alpha who'd spent years fighting the world alone, felt safe with him.
Professional boundaries demanded he release her wrist and pull back.
Logic insisted they maintain the careful distance they'd established for their business partnership.
But the mate bond pulsed like a living thing, and her scent was wrapping around him, and he was tired of fighting what felt as natural as breathing.
Keiro sat up slowly, his movement bringing him closer to her on the bed. His hand rose up to cup her face, his thumb tracing the elegant line of her cheekbone. Her skin was impossibly soft beneath his touch, and she leaned into the contact despite herself.
"Poppy." Her name was a rumble in his chest, rough with barely controlled need. "I want to kiss you so badly right now."
Poppy didn't answer with words. Instead, she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers.
The kiss started tentative, almost questioning, her mouth soft and uncertain against his. But the moment their lips met, the mate bond exploded between them like wildfire. What began as gentle exploration blazed into desperate hunger within seconds.
His wolf surged forward, demanding he claim her, mark her, make her his in every way possible.
The rational part of his mind that had spent sixteen years controlling every impulse, every desire, every moment of weakness—that part simply evaporated under the assault of her mouth moving against his with growing confidence.
Her lioness was clearly surging forward too, because her tongue sought entry into his mouth with bold determination.
He opened for her immediately, groaning low in his throat as their tongues tangled and danced in perfect rhythm.
The kiss became consuming, became everything he'd imagined and so much more.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he was lost in the sensation of her. Completely, utterly lost.
The line had been crossed, and there was no uncrossing it.