Chapter 7
Ending and Beginning
Alexa
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “Like I told you, I’ve got something I need to take care of out there. You’re safe now. I gotta head out.” He shakes his head once.
“Can I ask what you’re heading into?” I stare at him, reluctant to let him go. Truthfully, I want to ask him so much more. I need answers.
“I used to be a servant at Silver Moon,” he says. “I just wanna know what it feels like to live without a blood status hanging over my head. To be a rogue. To start over.”
Sadness settles in his eyes. My heart pounds at the sight of it. His expression darkens, his breath tight in his chest, like he’s bracing himself for something heavy.
I come from a pure Alpha family, yet my stepmother and stepsister treat me like a servant.
So when he talks about freedom like this, I understand more than I want to admit.
I no longer have to wake up before dawn to prepare a breakfast for my stepmother, or lay out fresh clothes for Lorraine before school.
What was his life like before he left the pack? Why did I never know him back then? If I had met him earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up at that horrible auction at all.
“Hold on,” I say, frowning. “Something doesn’t add up. Lycans are powerful. From what I’ve read, they usually come from pure Alpha bloodlines.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But I was raised in an Omega family and no one wants to bother searching for the real reason behind it. That’s why I’m digging into this.” He pauses, eyes flickering as if debating how much to say. With a sigh, he lifts the silver necklace resting against his chest.
“I feel like I’ve seen that symbol before.” My lips part as I focus on the wolf engraving on the pendant.
The necklace is still shiny, well cared for, but the symbol itself doesn’t fully register. It feels familiar, like something from a book I once read, though I can’t be sure.
“When I was a kid, I had this little doll,” he says. “A boy wearing denim overalls. Had it for as long as I can remember.” He rubs the pendant between his fingers. “One day, I found this tucked inside the jeans pocket.”
“Someone hid it there on purpose,” I whisper, awe creeping into my voice.
“Yeah,” he says. “There’s more to this. I can feel it.” He smiles faintly, eyes lingering on the wolf-shaped pendant in his palm.
“I see.” My voice trails off.
That’s when it hits me. We’re standing at a crossroads. Harlow needs answers about who he really is, while I need to stay hidden and train, learning how to control Mythril. Maybe this is where our paths split.
The realization makes my chest ache. Deep down, I wish he would stay. Maybe it’s fear of being alone again. Or maybe my heart has already chosen him, whether I want it to or not.
How does this even happen? Alpha Gabriel is my first mate, yet he ignores my pain.
Alpha Alastair claims to be my second chance mate, only to imprison me.
And now Harlow looks at me like I matter, as if I’m something real to him, but he still walks away.
The Moon Goddess must be laughing at how cruel fate can be.
“Good luck,” Harlow says softly. “Maybe I’ll swing back this way someday. If you’re still around, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”
I lift my gaze, forcing myself to hold back the tears, searching his eyes for any sign that he might stay. But all I see is fire. A burning need to uncover the truth about where he comes from.
“If I could talk to his wolf through the mind link, maybe I could talk him into staying,” Mythril howls in despair.
“It is what it is,” I tell her quietly. “He might be a fated mate, a potential, but without the marking ritual, he’s not our true mate.”
I nod at last, letting out a thin smile. “Good luck with your search,” I say. “I hope I can see you again.”
I reach out to shake his hand. When his rough palm closes around mine, time stalls. That warm, tingling sensation spreads from my hand through my entire body. I drown in his dark irises, seeing my own reflection staring back at me.
My eyes burn, the urge to cry sharp and painful. I don’t know when we’ll meet again, and that uncertainty twists deeper into my chest.
“Goodbye,” he whispers.
“Goodbye,” I whisper back.
He releases my hand and turns away. His broad back grows smaller as he heads toward the bus terminal where we arrived yesterday.
“He’s gone,” Mythril sighs.
I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. No matter what, I have to focus on training and getting stronger. For now, the idea of a mate doesn’t matter. Being alive is already a blessing.
“He’s the right man at the wrong time,” Mythril murmurs.
“No,” I answer. “There’s no such thing.”
My father once told me that someone who leaves is simply the wrong man. Because the right one will never make you question the time or the place. He will make it right.
Right now, I’m not Harlow’s priority. I’m safe at the club, under Mr. Moris’s protection, with a place to hide and train.
Once that’s settled, he has something more important than me.
It hurts to accept, but expecting to be the center of someone’s world suddenly feels like arrogance.
So I let him go and face the truth. I’m on my own.
Then why do the tears not stop? Why does the emptiness feel so vast?
I keep wiping the salt from my cheeks, my sobs breaking through despite my efforts to hold them back. The empty space ahead of me is as hollow as another piece of my heart tears open, a wound no healing ritual will ever truly close.
* * *
Six years later
It’s hard to survive outside my pack’s territory at first. I have never left my land my entire life, so when the time comes, I make a real effort to adjust to my new surroundings. It isn’t easy, but I get through it.
Life beyond my pack’s borders is nothing like what my family warned me about. It’s not backward. Instead, I learn things I never knew before, meet species I have never seen, discover a world far wider than the one I was raised in.
There are pure humans out there, fragile yet proud.
An ancient agreement from centuries ago keeps them from entering the lands of magical beings, whether by law or by fear.
A border fog divides the two areas. Humans who wander into it get lost, walking in circles for days before collapsing, only to be found unconscious near the edge.
Still, a few manage to cross. Jo was one of them. Short for Josephine, she is my buddy now, a half-Lycan. She doesn’t have a wolf of her own who can talk to her in her mind, but her senses are sharper, her claws real.
“Hey, Jo. You seen the boss?” I ask when she walks past.
She carries a tray with two empty glasses and a bottle of wine, clearly a guest’s order.
“Perfect timing,” she says, grinning as she hands me the tray. “He’s in VIP room five.”
“What happened to task distribution?” I ask, smirking.
“That is exactly what I’m doing,” she says. “I gotta clean puke off the bar from a half-giant. Wanna trade?”
“Nope. VIP room sounds great,” I sigh.
The club’s VIP rooms line the far corners, small and private. I carry the tray down the hallway until I reach number five. I knock once, then push the door open.
The moment I step inside, the scent of musk hits me hard. My breath catches.
Instead of Mr. Moris, a man sprawled on the long sofa facing the main stage, his attention fixed entirely on himself. Then his gaze lifts, locking onto me. My mouth goes dry as I realize what he is doing.
His eyes close, as his hand palm his cock. I swallow hard to ease the tension in my jaw as he pulls his jeans wider apart, inviting me to see his erect, veiny cock more freely.
“Hey,” he says, grinning. “Right on time. Shut the door and help me out, yeah?”
His light-brown eyes gleam with excitement as he looks me over. That hair. That smile. That stare. I know him. This man has lived in my nightmares for years.
He squints at me. “Hang on. I know you, don’t I?”
My blood turns cold. Oh, Goddess. Alpha Alastair.
The moment his eyes fully focus on me, my body reacts before my mind does. I turn and bolt out of the room.
“Hey! Get back here!”
I nearly crash into Mr. Moris in the hallway, the tray wobbling in my hands before I manage to steady it. He blinks at me, clearly startled. I drop my gaze and rush past him.
I make it to the kitchen, breath ragged, hands shaking. My eyes scan the room. Then I down a full glass of water in one go and finally let out a shaky breath. No. No. Tonight is not my night. I press myself into the corner, my body trembling.
“The Moon Goddess has to be joking,” I groan silently. “This has to be a joke.”
“It isn’t,” Mythril murmurs. “The Moon Goddess always has a plan.”
“Then why do I have to see him again?” My throat tightens, tears threatening. Mythril stays quiet. She knows I am right.
I drag my hands through my hair, frustration burning under my skin. Six years have passed, and I still can’t fully control Mythril. My transformations remain flawed, twisted, incomplete. Mr. Moris says it means I have not yet mastered her power.
Worse, rumor says Alpha Gabriel is still waiting for me. He hasn’t performed the marking ritual with Lorraine, leaving my stepsister trapped as nothing more than a convenient mistress. I don’t let myself hope. If he could betray me once, he can do it again.
Alpha Alastair disappears for years in complete silence, and now he shows up here. Is he really ready to give up his million-dollar bounty? Is he looking for me? Why is he meeting with Mr. Moris?
“Hey. There you are.” Jo pushes through the kitchen door, stacking plates. “Can you escort a guest to the VIP area?”
VIP. Not again. My heart stutters. I bite my lower lip, uncertainty clawing at me. Do I leave Southern Star? And go where?
“Can’t someone else do it?” I ask, shifting where I stand.
“Nope. Rhys and Stanley are slammed at the bar,” she says. “And I’m buried in plates. Been babysitting this table since the puke incident, hoping they tip big.” She flashes a hopeful smile. “Help me out, Bree.”
If I had chosen vomit duty, Jo would be dealing with Alpha Alastair right now. The thought of her anywhere near him makes my chest tighten, unease crawling under my skin.
“Hmm… That’s jealousy,” Mythril mutters. “He’s still one of our mates.”
I ignore her and follow Jo out of the kitchen anyway. Maybe I don’t have to walk the guest all the way. Maybe I can just point them in the right direction and keep my distance. Then I’ll leave here.
“You okay?” Jo asks.
“Just feeling a little sick,” I say, my lips trembling.
“Well, this might fix that.” She lowers her voice, nodding toward the entrance. “See that handsome guy over there? Escort him. He says he wants to meet Mr. Moris.”
My stomach drops. It feels like the blood drains from my head. If that man is Mr. Moris’s guest, then I have to go back to VIP room number five again.
I groan in frustration, wishing the Moon Goddess could be a little more sympathetic than this. It feels like she doesn’t care at all, like she shoves me straight back to those screwed up mates just to watch me suffer.
“Please, can’t we switch?” I ask Jo, my voice tight, but she only shakes her head.
“Sorry, Bree. I really gotta go now.”
Jo leaves me alone, strutting away with her tray in hand. I exhale deeply, once, twice, three times. No. Maybe Alpha Alastair will not demand his debt. Maybe Mr. Moris can mediate something between us. He always handles these kinds of problems.
After forcing myself to calm down, I pace toward the lobby to pick up the man. My black high heels click against the club floor. The short black skirt I wear sways with every step. A few men whistle as I pass them, but I ignore it.
The man in the lobby stares back at me from across the room, his eyes fixed, almost spellbound.
His expression is solemn. He is tall and slender, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his suit.
His skin is fair with a faint reddish tint, and his neatly combed brown curls give him a polished, put together look.
A navy-blue suit and crisp white shirt contrast sharply with his complexion.
A strange tingling runs through me, something I can’t explain, and the wolf in my head whimpers, wanting to curl up against him. Could he be my mate too? Again? Is the Moon Goddess really not done pairing me with one chaotic man after another?
“Mates,” Mythril snaps, instantly alert.
“Oh, shit. Not again. Screw these fated mates. I hate all of them,” I groan silently.
How can this possibly get worse than it already is? I purse my lips, fully aware my expression probably looks rude, definitely not the kind of customer service Jo is always preaching about.
And yet, beneath the anger, the attraction hits hard. It feels like I could lose my mind and pounce on him right here, drag him somewhere dark and make love to him without thinking twice. Insane. Stop it, Alexa.
The Moon Goddess has to be laughing right now. One second I’m furious at these men, and the next I’m completely undone by his presence. I should dunk my head in cold water later and run as far as I can. Maybe I can find Harlow. Or hide in a cave.
“Hey, sir, follow me.”
My tone comes out curt, but he follows anyway, moving behind me like a predator tracking its prey. The weight of an Alpha’s aura presses against my back.
The scent of tobacco, wood, and vanilla drifts toward me, warm and grounding, calming my frayed nerves. I can picture him easily, sitting in front of a crackling fireplace, tobacco between his fingers, a cup of hot vanilla tea resting on his desk.
“Hm… or maybe that vanilla is our arousal scent all over his lips,” Mythril murmurs, her tone lazy and sultry.
“Excuse me, miss.”
A gentle tap lands on my shoulder and I jolt, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest at his touch and the softness of his voice.
“Yes?”
An aching need blooms instantly, begging for more of his touch. No. That is just asking for trouble. Then why can’t I stop staring into his eyes, breathing in his scent? I’m sure he can smell my arousal, and the thought makes me curse under my breath.
“Are you a wolf shifter too? Have I met you before?”
His voice flows smooth and clear, like fresh mountain water. Goddess. How am I supposed to answer that? Before I can say a word, a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.
“There you are,” Alastair says, grinning.