his wolf's desire

Chapter 3

Haiden

The ache in my chest had been a constant companion since I turned twenty five. It was the yearning of my inner wolf to find its other half. Every day it grew sharper, a physical pain reminding me that I was incomplete. My father, Alpha Troy, wanted me to take back Audrey the blonde wolf who had dumped me for a rich human boy and who doesn't work but dumps all her allowances on designers . He said it was for the good of the pack, a strategic alliance with her father's pack. But all I saw was a man asking me to sacrifice my own heart for the good of the pack. I had to get out of the house.

I drove until the scent of pine gave way to asphalt, replaced by the smell of exhaust and city air. I ended up at the Spa Fiona worked at.

It was a strange place for a werewolf but it was a place of peace, a place where I could just be human for a little while.

I pushed open the door, the gentle chime a welcome sound.

"Hey, Fiona," I said, a small, genuine smile finding its way to my face.

She looked up from the front desk, her dark eyes lighting up.

"Hey, stranger. Didn't think I'd see you for a while. You look like you need a massage."

"More than you know," I replied, the tension in my shoulders finally beginning to ease.

She led me to a quiet room, the air thick with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. She was human, but there was a quiet strength about her, a calming presence that had nothing to do with wolf pack politics. I lay face down on the table, closing my eyes as she began to work on my back.

She knew where to find the knots of stress, the places where the weight of being a future Alpha and an incomplete wolf settled. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the rough edges of my life. As her hands kneaded the tension from my shoulders, I felt the ache in my chest begin to dull, the constant thrum of my unmet wolf quieting to a low murmur.

“Long week?” she asked softly.

I let out a ragged breath.

"Long year. Long life, maybe."

She didn't respond with platitudes or useless advice. She simply kept working, her silence more comforting than any words could have been. I felt the tension in my back give way, and with it, the emotional armor I constantly wore began to c***k.

After a long while, her hands stilled, one of them resting gently on the back of my neck. I felt a different kind of warmth now, a soothing intimacy that had nothing to do with her massage skills. I turned my head, my eyes meeting hers.

"You're a good person, Haiden," she said, her voice a whisper.

"Whatever you're going through, you'll get through it."

I didn't know how she knew I was upset but she did. In that quiet room under her gentle touch, I felt a moment of unadulterated peace. It was a fleeting moment, a fragile truce between my body and my tormented soul but it was enough. For the first time in a long time, I didnt feel suffocated by pressure.

The silence stretched between us, comfortable and heavy all at once. I reached up and gently took her hand, her skin soft and warm against mine. I didn't know what I was doing, only that in this moment, nothing mattered but her. Not my pack, not my father, not my wolf's ache. Just Fiona.

I sat up slowly, the table creaking under my weight. My eyes never left hers searching for something. Understanding? Acceptance? I wasn't sure. But what I saw in her compassionate eyes was a glimpse of a different future, a different life. A life where I could be just Haiden, not a werewolf, not a future Alpha.

Leaning forward, I closed the small space between us. Her scent was clean and calming, a simple, human scent of lavender and soap. And then, I kissed her.

It wasn’t a kiss of passion or primal need. It was a kiss of relief, of gratitude, of longing. A kiss that said, thank you for seeing me. Her lips were soft, and for a moment, the world outside this room disappeared. The ache in my chest, the constant reminder of my unfulfilled destiny dulled to a whisper. For the first time in years, I felt whole if only for a single moment.

As I pulled back still holding her gaze, my eyes lingered on her face, tracing the soft curve of her cheek. That's when I saw it. A faint discoloration, just under her left eye barely visible beneath a layer of expertly applied concealer. My werewolf vision, sharper than a human's, picked it out immediately. It was a fresh bruise, just beginning to turn that telltale shade of purple and yellow. It wasn't the kind of mark you get from bumping into a door. This was from a fist. My mind raced, putting the pieces together.

The tension in her shoulders that had nothing to do with a long week, the way she flinched when she first saw me, the subtle way she'd angled her face away from the light.

My body tensed, the protective instincts of my wolf rising up instantly. "Fiona," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Who did that to you?"

Her eyes widened in panic, and she quickly dropped her gaze, pulling her hand from mine.

"I-I just tripped. It's nothing, Haiden, really."

The lie was so transparent it hurt. I reached out, my fingers gently tracing the edge of the discoloration.

"That's not from tripping," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

My wolf was now fully awake, a low growl rumbling in my chest, a fierce instinct to protect her from whoever had caused this. "Fiona, who hurt you?"

She finally looked at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The fragile peace we had just shared shattered, replaced by a painful, shocking truth. The gentle human girl who had soothed my pain was carrying a far deeper one of her own. And I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that the person who did this to her was the boyfriend I saw her with the previous day.

I placed her head on my chest

“ You're gonna be alright”