Claimed By Fire And Crown

Chapter 3

I told myself it was nothing.

Just a crowded room, unfamiliar scents mixing together until my head couldn’t sort them properly. That was all. I’d never been somewhere like this before, never had to pay attention to anything outside the pack, so of course it felt off. Different didn’t have to mean dangerous.

Still, my fingers stayed curled lightly against the edge of the table, the rough wood pressing into my skin as I forced myself to sit still. My shoulders were tighter than they should’ve been, my body caught somewhere between staying and getting up and walking straight back out the door.

I didn’t move.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor pulled my attention to the left, and I glanced over just as a man stood from one of the tables near the bar. He swayed slightly as he got to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the back of the chair before laughing at something someone said. Nothing about him stood out, and yet I found myself watching for a second longer than necessary, tracking the way he crossed the room.

Normal movement. Normal people.

Except it didn’t feel normal.

The awareness from earlier hadn’t faded. If anything, it had settled in deeper, quieter now, but sharper. Like a thread pulled tight somewhere behind my ribs, tugging just enough to keep me from ignoring it completely.

I shifted in my seat, dragging my hand across the table before letting it drop to my lap. The chair creaked faintly as I leaned back, trying to look like I belonged here, like I wasn’t seconds away from bolting. My gaze moved again, slower this time, taking in the room without focusing on any one person for too long.

The scent was still there.

Stronger now that I wasn’t trying to ignore it.

It wasn’t overwhelming, not like a wolf’s scent when they were too close or too aggressive. This was different. Warmer. It didn’t push—it settled. Slipped into the air around me like it had always been there, like I’d just been too distracted to notice.

My breath caught slightly, and I frowned, my head turning a fraction as I tried to place it.

Not wolf.

Definitely not wolf.

Something in my chest tightened again, that same strange heat flickering low, brief and unsettling. I straightened without thinking, my shoulders pulling back as my body reacted before my mind could catch up.

Someone moved near the bar, blocking part of my view, and I lost the direction of it.

I exhaled slowly, dragging my attention back to the table in front of me. This was getting ridiculous. I needed to get a grip, figure out what I was doing next instead of sitting here jumping at nothing. I couldn’t stay long. The longer I lingered, the higher the chance someone would notice I didn’t belong.

Or worse—recognize me.

I pushed that thought down hard.

No one here knew me. No one here cared.

That was the point.

A glass hit the table in front of me, and I flinched slightly, my head snapping up before I could stop myself.

A woman stood there, one brow raised as she wiped her hands on a cloth tucked into her waistband. She looked at me for a second, her gaze moving quickly over my face, my clothes, then back again like she was trying to decide something.

“You gonna order something,” she said, nodding toward the glass, “or just sit there and look like you’re about to run?”

My mouth opened, then closed again as I glanced down at the drink she’d set in front of me. I hadn’t even seen her walk over.

“I didn’t—” I started, then stopped, shifting slightly in my seat. “I don’t have—”

“Relax.” She cut me off with a small wave of her hand, her expression softening just enough to take the edge off her tone. “It’s water. You look like you need it.”

I stared at the glass for a second before reaching for it, my fingers brushing the cool surface. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, already turning away. “Don’t make trouble, and we’re good.”

“I won’t.”

She didn’t respond, just moved on to the next table like the conversation was already done.

I wrapped both hands around the glass, lifting it slightly before taking a small sip. The water was cold, grounding in a way I hadn’t expected, and I let out a quiet breath as I set it back down.

That was better.

Simple. Normal. Real.

I focused on that for a second, letting the noise of the room settle back into the background. Voices, movement, the low hum of music—it all blurred together again, something I could almost ignore if I tried hard enough.

Almost.

Because the feeling was still there.

Stronger now.

I set the glass down a little harder than I meant to, the sound dull against the table as my fingers tightened briefly around the rim. My gaze lifted again, slower this time, more deliberate as I let it move across the room.

And then—

It stopped.

Not because I wanted it to.

Because it caught.

Across the room, near the far wall, someone stood slightly apart from the others. Not completely alone, but not part of anything either. The space around him felt… different. Quieter, somehow, even with people moving nearby.

I didn’t see his face right away. Just the line of his shoulders, the stillness in the way he stood, like everything around him was irrelevant. Like he wasn’t here for the same reasons as anyone else.

My breath slowed without me meaning to.

Something in my chest tightened again, sharper this time, pulling my attention toward him in a way that didn’t feel optional. My fingers curled lightly against the table as I tried to look away.

I couldn’t.

He turned slightly then, just enough that the light caught his face, and the moment my eyes landed on him, something inside me shifted.

Not subtle.

Not quiet.

It hit all at once, that same heat from before rushing through me, stronger now, deeper, like it had been waiting for this exact moment to surface. My breath caught hard, my back pressing against the chair as my body reacted before I could stop it.

His gaze lifted.

Locked on mine.

The room didn’t go silent. No one stopped moving. Nothing changed.

Except that I couldn’t feel any of it anymore.

The noise, the people, the movement—it all faded into something distant and unimportant as that connection held, sharp and unyielding. There was no hesitation in the way he looked at me. No confusion. Just a steady, focused awareness that made my pulse spike hard against my ribs.

Like he knew exactly what he was looking at.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening against the edge of the table as I forced myself to breathe.

This was a mistake.

Whatever this was, whoever he was—

I needed to leave.

I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping lightly against the floor as I stood, breaking the moment just enough that I could move. My gaze dropped immediately, cutting off that connection as I stepped away from the table.

One step.

Two.

The feeling didn’t fade.

If anything, it followed.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t slow down.

I headed straight for the door.