Chapter 4
1598 Words
The world snapped back into focus with a violent jolt the moment I heard the thunderous explosion of fireworks echoing outside the building—deep, booming pulses that shook the air and vibrated through the stairwell walls like distant cannon fire.
Boom… Boom…
The sharp sound ripped me out of the haze of his mouth against mine.
I inhaled sharply—a broken, startled gasp—and instinct surged through my limbs. I pushed against his chest with trembling hands, desperate to create space between us, but his grip remained firm, as though his instinct refused to release me even when his mind hesitated.
The man—this wolf, this impossibly powerful stranger—kept his gaze locked on mine, eyes burning with an amber intensity that made it difficult to breathe. His hand lingered on my waist, fingers splayed as if anchoring himself to the reality of my presence, as though letting go might cause me to vanish.
I could feel the tremor of his restrained breath. I could feel the unspoken recognition thrumming beneath his touch. I could feel the weight of a bond neither of us chose.
Just when I opened my mouth—whether to scream, beg, or tell him to stop—I heard a voice crash into the moment like a boulder dropped into fragile glass.
“EMORY! HERE YOU ARE!!”
Lucien’s voice—far too loud, far too chipper, far too oblivious—shattered the fragile, terrifying stillness between us.
I shoved the man again, and this time he released me, my sudden panic overriding whatever instinct held him rooted in place.
I turned so quickly that my hair whipped over my shoulder, and my wide eyes landed on Lucien, who was hurrying toward me with the clueless enthusiasm of a man who had no idea he had just saved my life.
Or destroyed it.
A deep, primal sound suddenly cut through the air.
A growl—low, furious, unmistakably animal.
He was growling at Lucien.
My breath froze. My heart seized. My wolf whimpered in terror.
Before I could force a single word out—before I could beg him not to hurt my manager—a second figure appeared behind him, a man dressed sharply in a suit who moved with supernatural speed and certainty. He placed a firm hand on his arm, a grounding touch that seemed to break through whatever haze he had fallen into.
The man’s expression flickered. His eyes darted around, taking in the stairwell, the silence, the shadowed corners—as though waking from something ancient and instinct-driven. His chest expanded with a sharp inhale, confusion briefly replacing the hunger in his gaze.
Lucien continued, completely oblivious to the storm he had interrupted, “You should really see the fireworks, Emory. Everyone is waiting. Come on!”
His hand wrapped lightly around my wrist, tugging me away from the stairwell. I let him guide me, my steps unsteady, my lungs still struggling to find air.
I did not dare look behind me, but I felt the weight of his stare following every movement I made—heavy, possessive, bewildered, and predatory in a way that made my skin prickle.
Lucien whispered quietly, his voice dipping with a seriousness he almost never used, “Do not let people see you with someone, Emory.”
The words froze me mid-step.
He… had seen.
My head snapped toward him. His eyes were wide with disbelief, uncertainty, and something close to panic.
“Do not reveal that you are in a relationship,” he whispered urgently, misinterpreting everything. “Not tonight, not publicly. This is the worst possible moment. Please do not ruin the image we built.”
I exhaled shakily, forcing my trembling lips into a smile for his sake. I nodded, unable to explain the truth because the truth would have shattered him.
We continued toward the rooftop, ascending the final staircase that opened into a breathtaking terrace overlooking Paris. Fireworks painted the sky in jeweled bursts of red and gold while guests oohed and aahed beneath the winter night.
But I could not feel wonder. Only dread.
I cast one last glance toward the stairwell doorway, the place where I had left the him standing with his companion at his side.
He was still watching me.
Silent. Unmoving with eyes glowing with a hunger I did not understand and could not allow myself to comprehend.
‘He kissed me.’
A wolf kissed me like that— a wolf who should not exist in my world anymore, a wolf who should not be anywhere near me, a wolf is dangerous because he could shatter every wall I had built between my past and the fragile future I tried to create when he found out who I am.
Why had he kissed me?
Who was he?
And why had Bree—my own wolf, my only true protector—gone completely silent the moment he touched me?
Questions curled like cold fingers around my throat as the sky exploded in brilliant light above us.
But no answer came.
Only the knowledge that tonight had changed something I could never undo.
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Meanwhile - For the first time in more than ten years, Zachary Blackthorne felt himself approach the edge of absolute loss of control.
Control was the foundation of his existence. Discipline was the armor he wore every hour of every day. Yet neither had been enough tonight.
“My King?” Corwin, his beta and most trusted friend, watched him with deep confusion etched across his features.
Zachary could not focus on him. Nor on humans. Nor on the consequences of his actions.
His wolf, Nolan, roared inside his mind with a clarity that shook him to the core.
‘Mate. Go to our mate. Do not let her run from us.’
Nolan, silent for a decade, now screamed like a creature reborn into fire.
Zachary could barely breathe.
His wolf felt alive—truly alive—after so many years of numb obedience. But that wild rebirth came twisted with confusion and fury. Nolan had been enraged by her fear, devastated by the way she trembled beneath Zachary’s touch.
And when her scent reached him—raw, fragile, beautifully wild—something inside Zachary shattered. Something ancient, instinctive and something he had long believed dead.
That was why he kissed her.
The moment their lips met, he felt the world tilt into alignment. It was not gentle. It was not planned. It was a collision of fated gravity and unrestrained desire, a moment his wolf seized with ferocity.
And had Corwin not appeared, Zachary knew precisely what would have happened—He would have killed the human man without hesitation.
The thought made him inhale sharply, shame and instinct battling in his chest.
If Corwin had not intervened— If Corwin had not placed a grounding hand on his arm— If Corwin had not reminded him silently that they were in the human world— Zachary would have spilled blood in that stairwell.
“Damn it…” he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening until it ached.
He watched Emory walk away with the human man who had interrupted them, watched the way she kept glancing back with wide, terrified eyes. He could feel her fear like a physical ache beneath his skin. He could feel the bond tugging at him, demanding he go to her.
Fireworks exploded above the city in brilliant cascades of light, but he saw none of it.
His eyes remained fixed on her.
Not once did he look away, not even when she disappeared into the rooftop crowd.
Corwin cleared his throat quietly.
“My King,” he murmured, “is it possible… is she…?”
Zachary did not allow him to finish the question. He nodded once, slowly, the motion heavy with certainty.
“She is my mate, Corwin.”
Corwin’s eyes widened before shifting toward the rooftop terrace where she had vanished. “A human?”
A low, humorless chuckle left Zachary’s chest.
“No. She is absolutely not human.” His voice deepened, shadowed with something ancient. “And the world should be grateful for that truth.”
Corwin swallowed hard. “But there were no reports of any supernatural presence tied to an actress.”
“I am aware,” Zachary replied, his tone sharp with frustration. “Her identity is hidden, and very effectively. Her fear was not the fear of a human. It was the fear of a wolf who has been hunted.”
Corwin’s brows knit tightly. “Is she running from someone?”
Zachary inhaled deeply, the remnants of her scent lingering like smoke in his lungs.
“I guess,” he said quietly. “And I intend to find out who.”
His voice settled into a dangerous calm.
“Find everything about Emory Donahue—everything the humans know, and everything they do not.”
Corwin nodded immediately. “As you command, my King.”
Zachary’s gaze drifted toward the rooftop once more, his wolf pacing restlessly inside him.
“And contact her manager,” he added, each word deliberate and edged with authority.
“Inform him that I require private time with Emory Donahue… to offer her a birthday greeting.”
Corwin blinked slowly, startled by the implication.
Zachary’s expression hardened into something dark and resolute.
“That girl is mine,” he thought, though he did not speak the words aloud. “And I will not allow her to run from me again.”
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- Writer
