THE ASHWOOD LEGACY

FACE TO FACE

Chapter 6 — Face to Face

Damian didn't sleep that night.

He sat in his office long after the building had emptied, the city lights spread out below him in their usual indifferent glitter, and stared at the cracked conference table through the glass wall like it might explain itself if he looked long enough.

He hadn't shattered glass with his bare hands since he was seventeen years old and still learning to control the shift. Twenty-nine years old, alpha of Crimson Hollow, CEO of a company worth more than some small countries, and one look at Elena Marsh had unraveled a decade of discipline in under two hours.

You did this, he told himself, not for the first time. You did this to both of you.

His phone buzzed. His mother, three missed calls in the last hour alone. He silenced it a fourth time.

He'd known, in some distant theoretical way, that Elena might resurface someday. Ravenshade was a large city, but pack business had a way of intersecting with itself. He hadn't expected her to walk into his boardroom as the CEO of the company holding his company's financial future in her hands. He certainly hadn't expected the bond — three years dormant, three years he'd told himself was enough time to convince his own wolf that the rejection had been final — to surge back the second she was in the room.

He'd felt it the moment the elevator doors opened. Not the polite, professional recognition of an old acquaintance. The full, roaring, unmistakable pull of a mate bond that should not have still existed after a formal rejection.

Bonds didn't do that. Rejected bonds died. Every pack elder, every text on wolf biology he'd ever studied, said the same thing: rejection was final. A severed bond didn't grow back.

So why had it felt, standing across that conference table from her, like nothing had ever been severed at all?

A knock at his office door interrupted the spiral. His assistant, Priya, stood in the doorway with a tablet held against her chest and an expression he'd learned to recognize as this is going to be a problem.

"Sir. I wasn't sure if this was relevant, given today's meeting, but—" She hesitated. "Elena Marsh's biometric scan from the building's security system triggered an alert in the old pack registry database. The one your grandfather digitized before he passed."

Damian sat up straighter. "What kind of alert?"

"I don't know, exactly. It's flagged as a bloodline match, but the file it's referencing is sealed. Council-level clearance only." Priya handed him the tablet. "I thought you should see it before anyone else did."

Damian took it, scrolling through lines of archived text his grandfather had spent the last years of his life digitizing — old pack records, bloodline registries, genealogies going back two centuries. Buried in the flagged results was a single line, half-corrupted by data rot, that made his stomach drop.

MATCH: 94.7% — ASHWOOD ROYAL LINE (BELIEVED EXTINCT, EST. 1921)

"Ashwood," he said quietly. "That's not a family name I recognize."

"It's not in the current pack directory," Priya confirmed. "Whatever it is, it's old. Older than Crimson Hollow's founding, maybe."

Damian scrolled further, but the file cut off abruptly — CLEARANCE REQUIRED, COUNCIL ARCHIVE ONLY — and no amount of his own authority as alpha seemed to override it.

He set the tablet down slowly, his mind racing back through everything that had happened in that conference room. The bond flaring back to life. The way Elena's composure had cracked, just slightly, when their hands touched. The strange, electric charge that had filled the room like the air before a lightning strike.

Ashwood royal line.

He didn't know what it meant yet. But he knew, with the same instinctive certainty that told him when a storm was coming, that whatever answer waited in that sealed file was going to upend everything he thought he understood about the woman he'd rejected three years ago.

"Priya," he said. "Get me access to that file. I don't care whose signature it takes."

"Sir, only council elders have clearance for—"

"Then get me a council elder." His voice dropped into something low and commanding, more alpha than CEO. "Tonight."