Chapter 4: Beneath the Surface
1594 Words
The next morning, Alina woke with a heaviness in her chest that no amount of coffee could lift.
She hadn’t slept. Not really. Her thoughts had tossed and turned long after Dominic left, spinning webs of confusion and longing. The echo of his voice still clung to the walls of her apartment. Because even before I knew what you were… my soul recognized you.
She hated how easily those words made her unravel.
She had survived the heartbreak of their divorce, rebuilt her life from ashes, created a thriving company from nothing. And yet, a single conversation with him had cracked the very foundation she’d worked so hard to fortify.
Alina stood in front of the mirror, trying to see something different—some mark or flicker of otherworldliness in her reflection.
Same hazel eyes.
Same soft curves and strong jawline.
Same storm of emotions buried just beneath the surface.
But there was something different now. A pulse under her skin. A humming, invisible thread tugging her somewhere she didn’t yet understand.
Was it the bond? The Lycan blood Dominic mentioned? Or was it just residual heartbreak disguised as magic?
The ringing of her phone snapped her out of her spiral.
She walked over to the kitchen counter and answered, already knowing who it was.
“Grace,” she sighed.
“I saw the press release.” Her best friend’s voice was sharp and direct. “Blackwood Global and ALC merging? You swore you’d never breathe the same air as Dominic again, and now you’re shaking hands on red carpets together?”
Alina rubbed her temples. “It’s business.”
“Lina. No one believes that. Not the media. Not me. And not you.”
Alina didn’t respond.
Grace sighed. “You okay?”
“No,” Alina admitted. “But I will be.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Yes. God, yes.
But what could she say? That her ex-husband turned out to be a supernatural creature with glowing eyes and ancient blood? That apparently, she wasn’t fully human either? That her body was changing, her instincts sharpening, her emotions unearthing something primal she’d spent years silencing?
“I can’t. Not yet,” Alina whispered.
“Okay,” Grace said gently. “But I’m here. No judgment. Just… take care of your heart.”
After they hung up, Alina stood still for a long time, clutching her phone to her chest.
Her heart.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
She didn’t know who it belonged to anymore.
---
Later that afternoon, Alina sat in a private lounge on the fiftieth floor of the Astoria Tower—one of the few neutral zones used by powerful business entities, political figures, and, apparently, supernatural elites.
She was supposed to meet with a legal team to finalize the merger’s public relations clauses. But instead of attorneys, she found herself face-to-face with a woman she didn’t recognize.
Tall. Regal. Icy blue eyes. Dark auburn hair twisted into a sleek chignon. Her beauty was timeless, almost too perfect.
“You’re not with PR,” Alina said slowly.
The woman smiled with polite sharpness. “I’m not. My name is Celene. I’m the head of diplomatic affairs for the North American Lycan Council.”
Alina blinked. “There’s a council?”
Celene’s smile widened slightly. “Of course. Did you think Lycans ran wild in the woods without structure?”
“I didn’t think Lycans existed at all until yesterday,” Alina muttered.
“Fair enough,” Celene replied. “But now that you know, there are… responsibilities.”
Alina crossed her arms. “Responsibilities? You mean because of Dominic?”
“No,” Celene said. “Because of you.”
Alina stilled.
“You’re not just Dominic’s mate. You carry a dormant bloodline connected to one of the oldest Lycan families in Europe. Your maternal grandmother, Eveline Moreau, was once considered one of the most powerful female Lycans of her generation.”
Alina’s breath caught. “My mother never talked about her.”
“She wouldn’t have,” Celene said softly. “Eveline was exiled after she married a human and rejected the Council’s authority.”
“So my mother wasn’t…”
“Aware? No. Her Lycan gene was latent, as yours was. But now it’s waking up. And that makes you... very important to the wrong kind of people.”
Alina’s stomach turned.
“Which is why I’m here. I’ve been sent to evaluate the risk you pose—and the risk you’re in.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Alina said.
“No one ever does,” Celene replied. “But it doesn’t matter. Your awakening is inevitable. The only question is how prepared you’ll be when it fully takes hold.”
Alina looked away, overwhelmed.
“I’m not here to threaten you, Alina. I’m here to help,” Celene said. “But you should know… being Dominic’s mate is both a blessing and a curse. There are those who want to hurt him—and they’ll use you to do it.”
Alina’s throat tightened.
Celene rose smoothly to her feet. “He’ll protect you, of course. But Dominic’s control is fraying. Being near you again has made him vulnerable.”
“Good,” Alina muttered. “Maybe now he’ll know what it feels like.”
Celene studied her for a long moment. “You still love him.”
Alina didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
---
That night, Alina couldn’t sleep.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her body burning with confusion, her skin prickling like it didn’t fit her anymore. Every sound in her apartment was amplified. The hum of the refrigerator. The wind brushing the windows. Her own heartbeat.
Too loud.
Too fast.
She kicked off the sheets and paced the room, her thoughts tangled and sharp. Then suddenly, she felt it.
A pull.
It wasn’t physical, exactly. More like an invisible tether wrapped around her chest, yanking her toward something she couldn’t see. Something outside.
Or someone.
Without thinking, she grabbed her coat and left the building, her feet moving before her brain could catch up. She didn’t call a car. She didn’t need to. Her senses guided her, as if instinct was leading her by the hand.
Twenty minutes later, she found herself in front of an old manor house hidden behind a row of thick trees on the edge of the city.
The gate creaked open before she touched it.
He was waiting for her.
Dominic stood on the front steps, lit by the warm glow spilling from the windows behind him. His expression was unreadable—but his eyes glowed faintly, like twin moons in the night.
“You felt it,” he said.
She nodded. “What is it?”
“The bond. It’s strengthening.”
She walked past him into the manor, breath catching in her throat. It was beautiful. Dark wood, elegant chandeliers, an air of wealth that was ancient and modern all at once.
“You live here?” she asked.
“No. This was my father’s house. I come here when I need to remember who I was before all of this.”
She looked at him. “Before me?”
He nodded. “Before I knew what it meant to love someone more than power.”
The confession hit her like a gust of wind.
They walked into the library—walls lined with old books, a fire crackling in the hearth. The scent of pine, leather, and Dominic surrounded her.
He turned toward her slowly. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”
She braced herself. “Of course there is.”
“After we divorced… I never stopped watching over you. I had people protect you from a distance. Especially when your company took off.”
Her jaw clenched. “You spied on me?”
“I protected you,” he corrected. “Because I knew it was only a matter of time before someone else discovered what I already knew—that you weren’t just human.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
She stepped closer, voice trembling. “You already did.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the air between them sparked with something wild and dangerous.
He stepped toward her. Slowly. Deliberately.
“I can’t lose you again, Alina.”
“You already did.”
“I didn’t fight for you then because I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said, his voice raw. “But if I had to go back… I’d burn down the world to keep you.”
Tears stung her eyes, uninvited. “Dominic…”
He reached for her, fingers brushing her cheek, and suddenly she was crying—silent, shaking sobs that tore through the armor she’d worn for years.
“I’m so angry,” she whispered. “You left me when I needed you the most.”
“I know.”
“You broke me.”
“I know,” he said again, voice breaking. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right if you let me.”
She should’ve walked away.
She should’ve turned her back and never looked back.
But instead, she let him pull her into his arms.
And for the first time in years, she felt whole.
Not healed.
Not fixed.
But held.
And in that moment, it was enough.
- Writer
