CHAPTER 9
863 Words
Before Rowan could respond—
A loud engine echoed from outside.
Marcus’s head snapped toward the door.
Lyra frowned.
“That’s not one of ours.”
Rowan stood slowly.
“What?”
Marcus moved to the window and looked outside.
His eyebrows lifted.
Lyra walked over.
“What is it?”
Marcus stepped aside so she could see.
A sleek black SUV rolled into the clearing outside the cabin.
The vehicle gleamed beneath the moonlight, expensive and out of place among the trees.
Rowan frowned.
“That looks familiar.”
The driver’s door opened.
A tall man stepped out.
He was broad-shouldered, dressed in dark fitted clothes, his movements confident and controlled.
Even from a distance his presence carried weight.
Rowan’s eyes widened slightly.
“Oh no.”
Lyra glanced at him.
“You know him?”
Rowan groaned.
“Unfortunately.”
The man slammed the car door shut and looked toward the cabin.
His gaze was sharp.
Calculating.
Even from this distance Lyra could feel something about him.
Not wolf.
Not weak either.
Marcus frowned.
“Who is that?”
Rowan rubbed his temples.
“My brother.”
Lyra blinked.
“Your brother?”
Rowan nodded reluctantly.
“The human one.”
Outside, the man began walking toward the cabin.
Each step steady.
Purposeful.
Marcus muttered under his breath.
“Why is he here?"
Rowan sighed deeply.
“How am I supposed to know?"
Lyra watched the approaching stranger carefully.
Something about him felt…
Dangerous.
Not in the way wolves were dangerous.
In a different way.
Calculated.
Controlled.
She turned back to Rowan.
“Does he know what you are?”
Rowan shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Marcus cracked his knuckles.
“Should be an interesting conversation."
Three knocks.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The sound echoed through the wooden cabin like the beginning of a storm.
Marcus glanced toward Lyra.
Lyra’s silver eyes narrowed slightly.
Outside the door stood a man who clearly didn’t belong anywhere near a werewolf pack.
Yet somehow… he had found them.
Rowan rubbed his face.
“This is bad.”
Marcus looked at him.
“How bad?”
Rowan sighed heavily.
“The kind of bad that follows you across continents.”
Lyra raised an eyebrow.
“That dramatic?”
Rowan walked toward the door reluctantly.
“You haven’t met him.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“Well I’m about to.”
Another knock.
Louder this time.
Rowan grabbed the door handle.
“Just… don’t kill him.”
Marcus smirked.
“No promises.”
Rowan opened the door.
The man standing outside was tall—easily over six feet—with the kind of posture that came from years of discipline rather than arrogance.
Cold night air swept into the cabin as he stepped forward.
Moonlight illuminated his face.
And for a moment even Marcus blinked.
The resemblance between the brothers was undeniable.
But where Rowan carried a rough, untamed kind of attractiveness…
This man looked polished.
Refined.
Dangerously composed.
His hair was dark like Rowan’s, though neatly styled rather than wind-tossed. It framed a sharply defined face with a strong jawline and high cheekbones.
His eyes were the most striking feature.
A deep steel gray.
Calm.
Observant.
The eyes of a man who missed nothing.
A faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw, giving his otherwise perfect features a slightly rugged edge.
His body was powerful—broad shoulders filling out the tailored black coat he wore, the fabric stretching slightly across his chest.
This was a man who clearly spent time in the gym.
His movements were controlled.
Balanced.
Every step confident.
He looked Rowan up and down slowly.
Then sighed.
“There you are.”
Rowan groaned.
“Hello to you too, Adrian.”
Marcus whispered under his breath.
“Oh he’s rich rich.”
Adrian Hawthorne stepped inside without waiting to be invited.
His presence filled the room instantly.
The expensive scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of the forest.
He glanced around the cabin once.
Taking in everything.
The wooden walls.
Marcus leaning by the fireplace.
Lyra standing near the window.
His eyes paused on her.
And something flickered in his expression.
Interest.
But only for a moment.
Then his attention returned to Rowan.
“You disappeared,” Adrian said calmly.
Rowan leaned against the wall.
“I went on a trip.”
Adrian’s eyebrow lifted.
“You vanished for three days.”
Rowan shrugged.
“Details.”
Marcus looked between them.
“So… CEO brother?”
Rowan nodded.
Adrian spoke before he could elaborate.
“Adrian Hawthorne.”
His voice was smooth.
Confident.
“The CEO of Hawthorne Global.”
Marcus whistled quietly.
“That explains the car.”
Rowan rolled his eyes.
“He runs a billion-dollar company and still finds time to stalk me.”
Adrian ignored the jab.
Instead he turned slowly toward Lyra.
“And you are?”
Lyra held his gaze without hesitation.
“Lyra Blackridge.”
Adrian studied her carefully.
His sharp eyes traced every detail.
The calm strength in her posture.
The quiet authority in her presence.
Even without knowing she was Alpha, he could sense she wasn’t someone easily intimidated.
"Interesting".
- Writer
