Chapter 8
1813 Words
Michael’s POV
The sun had barely crested the skyline when my phone buzzed against the nightstand.
I groaned.
The only calls that came this early were bad ones.
I slid out of bed and grabbed the phone without checking the ID. “Speak.”
“Alpha,” came Ryan’s clipped voice. "We have a situation at the pack house. A scuffle broke out near the southern training fields. It’s… unusual.”
I was already grabbing a shirt. “How bad?”
“Bad enough. One of the guards claims he saw a trespasser, and then he changed his story. Could be rogues testing us. Could be a setup. Either way, you’ll want to see it yourself.”
“On my way.”
I glanced toward the guest wing, where Audrey was still sleeping. Her breathing had evened out sometime after midnight, the fever breaking after hours of sweat and restless muttering.
She didn’t belong in that place she came from.
And she sure as hell didn’t deserve what she’d endured.
But this world? My world? It wasn’t much safer. I was Alpha of Ironclaw—ruthless, calculating, feared. And I’d just brought a fragile, broken woman into the eye of a storm.
What the hell am I doing?
I shoved the thought away, tugged on a coat, and left the penthouse.
The Ironclaw Pack estate was already awake and tense by the time I arrived. Warriors lined the inner courtyard, and guards surrounded the perimeter of the training field where the incident had taken place.
Ryan met me just inside the gate. “We’ve got conflicting stories. A trainee said he spotted a wolf moving too fast for identification, but another swears it was a shadow.”
“And the cameras?”
“Blacked out. Only for three minutes, right before the commotion.”
My jaw clenched. “Sabotage.”
“Looks that way.”
I scanned the field. The air was sharp, tinged with unease. “Double security on all posts. I want full rotations and a search grid formed within the next hour. If someone is testing us, they’re about to find out why we don’t get tested.”
“Yes, Alpha.” Ryan paused, studying me. “Are you okay?”
I turned to him. “What kind of question is that?”
“You’re… different. Since the business trip.”
My eyes narrowed. “You mean since I disappeared for one night and didn’t tell you where I went?”
Ryan smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that.”
I didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. He didn’t know about Audrey, and I intended to keep it that way, at least until I knew where she stood in all this.
Before Ryan could push further, a familiar voice interrupted us.
“There you are, Michael.”
Lana.
I stiffened.
She approached like she owned the courtyard, her long legs gliding across the path in a figure-hugging emerald dress. Too elegant for morning, but Lana had never known the meaning of subtlety.
“Ryan,” she nodded curtly before turning her full attention to me. “I heard about the disturbance. I hope everything’s fine?”
“It will be,” I said, my voice cold.
She smiled, sweetly and practiced. “Perfect. Because I was just about to invite you to brunch today. The press will be around. It’ll be good for the pack to see us together again.”
My silence stretched, deliberate.
She took a step closer. “Don’t look so tense. You’re always so serious when it comes to Alpha business. Come with me today and relax. Smile. Show your pack you’re stable and focused.”
“I have more important things to handle,” I said flatly.
Her lips twitched. “Michael, please. Your father would appreciate it. You know how long he’s waited to see us… presentable.”
“I’m not interested in playing pretend.”
I turned to walk away, but her hand caught my wrist.
“Michael,” she said under her breath, trying to keep her tone sweet. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about perception. The other packs are watching. They want to see strength. Unity. Stability.”
“I’ll give them strength,” I said. “Unity and stability? That doesn’t come from forced brunches.”
That was when fate decided to intervene again.
“Michael.”
The voice cut through the air like a whip.
My father.
Alpha Daniel.
He strode across the training yard like a storm, his suit immaculate, his expression thunderous.
“Lana tells me you’re refusing her invitation.”
I folded my arms. “I am.”
“You do understand what’s at stake here, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low and cold.
“I understand that I don’t owe the pack a photo-op,” I said.
“You’re wrong,” he snapped. “You are their Alpha. And as Alpha, your job is to lead not just in power, but in image. You’ve been distant, unpredictable, and now you won’t even be seen with the woman who’s supposed to be your Luna?”
“She’s not my Luna,” I said evenly.
Daniel’s eyes flared. “She was chosen for you. You will not disgrace her in public.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I shouldn’t have pressured him.” Lana lowered her head, blinking back fake tears.
A performance, right on cue.
Daniel turned back to me. “You will go with her today. You’ll hold her arm. You’ll smile. And you’ll remind this pack that you are capable of leading it with both power and presence.”
I said nothing.
“I’m not asking, Michael,” he said, stepping closer. “You will act like an Alpha. Or I will make decisions that ensure someone else does.”
The threat wasn’t new. But today, it grated harder than usual.
Because for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like playing their game.
Still, I nodded once.
Daniel turned and walked away. Lana lingered for a second, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk before she followed.
Ryan stood beside me, watching the whole exchange silently.
“I guess you’re going to brunch,” he muttered.
“For now,” I said, jaw clenched.
But my thoughts were miles away—back at the penthouse, with the girl lying in my guest room.
The girl I hadn’t stopped thinking about since I carried her out of the woods.
——
Brunch was held at the Ironclaw Pack’s Grand Hall… a towering structure built more for politics than peace. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, and long banquet tables were dressed with golden linens, all meant to impress the visiting dignitaries from neighboring packs.
It was exactly the kind of event I despised.
Lana stood glued to my side, looping her arm through mine like she owned it. She smiled flawlessly, laughed at all the right moments, and tilted her head coyly whenever someone complimented her. Her performance was award-winning.
I played my part.
Stiff nods. Cold smiles. Just enough interaction to keep questions at bay.
But I wasn’t here.
Not really.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Audrey.
I had left her that morning, tucked into the plush guest bed, still pale but breathing steadily. She had whispered in her sleep—something about fire, something about drowning. Even unconscious, she seemed haunted.
The thought of her alone in that unfamiliar space while I stood here beside Lana made my blood boil.
“And what do you think, Alpha?” one of the visiting alphas asked.
I blinked. I hadn’t heard a word of the conversation. Lana’s hand subtly squeezed mine beneath the table.
“On the land dispute between the Silverclaw and Nightwhisper packs?” the alpha clarified.
My eyes flicked to the man. “They can fight it out or settle it like adults. Either way, it’s not my concern unless blood is spilled.”
He blinked in surprise, but quickly chuckled like I had just told a joke. The others laughed too.
Lana leaned in. “That wasn’t exactly diplomatic,” she murmured through clenched teeth.
“I’m not a diplomat,” I muttered back.
“You’re not helping your image.”
“I’m not trying to.”
She smiled to the room again, hiding the annoyance simmering beneath her perfectly painted face.
We made it through most of the brunch with little incident, until the end—when Lana made her move.
“Michael,” she said sweetly, turning to face me as the crowd began to thin. “Why don’t we take a walk in the gardens? Just the two of us.”
“No.”
Her smile faltered. “Just ten minutes.”
“No.”
She blinked, then turned it into a laugh. “You’re so grumpy today.”
“I said no,” I repeated, sharper this time.
People turned to look. Daniel, across the room, narrowed his eyes.
Lana leaned closer, her tone icy despite the pleasant smile. “You’re making a scene.”
“Then let them watch.”
Her nostrils flared, but before she could respond, I felt it.
A wave of something hot and sharp pulsed through my chest. Not pain exactly—something deeper. A pull. An ache. My heart stuttered.
Then again.
A sickening, wrenching twist that had nothing to do with politics or performance.
Audrey.
Something was wrong.
I didn’t think. I moved.
Lana grabbed my arm. “Where are you…?”
I shook her off without answering. My wolf surged forward, nearly taking control.
Ryan spotted me storming out and followed. “Michael? What’s going on?”
“She’s in pain,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Who?”
I didn’t answer. My car was already waiting, but I shifted mid-run, my wolf tearing through the woods toward the city, faster than wheels could carry me.
I burst into my penthouse minutes later, my body shifting back mid-stride, not caring about the mess I left behind.
“Audrey!”
No response.
Then I heard it—a soft thud. A muffled cry.
I turned toward the staircase.
She lay at the bottom.
Her body crumpled, one leg twisted awkwardly beneath her, her breathing shallow.
“f**k,” I breathed, rushing to her.
Her eyes fluttered, unfocused, pain etched into every line of her face.
I dropped to my knees beside her, gently lifting her head. “Audrey. Stay with me. I’m here.”
She whimpered, the sound weak and broken. “Michael…”
“I’m here,” I repeated, brushing hair from her face. “You’re okay now.”
But I knew that was a lie.
Because Audrey Hill wasn’t just my mate anymore.
She was my priority.
My responsibility.
Mine.
- Writer
