The first thing Serena noticed about the Nightfang Citadel was that it smelled like power—and arrogance.
Stone walls stretched toward the sky, heavy with centuries of ruling bloodlines. Torches lined the corridors, flickering shadows that danced across statues of kings who had long been dead, all of them staring at her with cold, judgmental eyes. She tugged her son's hand slightly, trying to make him aware that, yes, this place was dangerous, but no, they were not pawns to be trampled yet.
"You know," the boy said, voice loud in the echoing hall, "if we lived here, I would totally prank the guards."
Serena tried not to snort. "Focus. We're not here to play."
"I'm focused," he said, with mock seriousness. "Focused on finding the throne and shouting, 'I am king!'"
"Don't." She pinched his ear lightly. "Do not."
Despite herself, Serena smiled. Humor had always been her armor, and apparently, it was his too. It made the walls of the citadel slightly less suffocating.
They were guided to a guest chamber—marble floors, silk drapes, an impossibly high ceiling that made her feel like a mouse in a cathedral. Her son immediately claimed a corner, plopping onto a chair as though he had already won.
Serena placed her bag down carefully, noting that every guard along the hallway had been watching her, lingering a little longer than etiquette required. And then she felt it: the pull. The subtle, insistent tug of the Alpha's presence, threading through the walls, sliding along corridors, whispering across stone. Her wolf stiffened, every muscle under her skin answering instinctively.
"He's here," she muttered.
"Yeah. Smells like it too," the boy said, wrinkling his nose. "Like pine and storm clouds and… tension."
Serena had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing out loud. The child's honesty was painfully accurate.
A soft knock echoed at the door. Serena stiffened. "Come in," she said, keeping her voice even.
The door opened slowly, and there he was. Alaric Nightfang. King of the Northern Packs. Alpha of an empire built on teeth, claws, and blood. And apparently, the ability to stride into a room and make her wolf writhe like a caged fire.
"Serena," he said, voice low, controlled, threaded with something beneath it that she could not yet name. Desire? Possession? The wolf's growl seemed to answer for him: Mine.
Her spine straightened. "You summoned me, Your Majesty?"
He ignored the jab, stepping closer. Every inch of his presence was magnetic, predatory, disciplined. She refused to take a step back, even though the pull in her chest wanted to make her falter.
"I need answers," he said simply.
"Answers?" She raised an eyebrow. "You mean about my survival? My son? Or your sudden interest after seven years of pretending nothing happened?"
He gave a faint smile, almost amused, almost dangerous. "All of the above."
The boy frowned. "You're both scary."
Serena glanced at him, exasperated. "Yes. That's the point."
Alaric's gaze flicked to the child, and something shifted in the room. Recognition, a spark he could not yet name. The boy had his scent, his blood. Not fully, but enough. His wolf growled low, rumbling in warning and longing.
Serena caught the movement, the subtle rise of heat in the room, and let herself step slightly closer to the boy, placing a protective arm around him. She wanted to say stay away from him, but her voice did not have to. Her wolf said it for her.
Alaric's eyes never left hers. "This is… unexpected." His lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but control held him rigid. The air between them hummed, sharp as steel. Every instinct in both of them screamed.
"I'm full of surprises," she said lightly, though the muscles in her jaw tightened. Humor—always the shield.
He took a slow step closer, and she resisted the pull that threatened to bow her knees. Do not let him see that you feel it.
The guards cleared the hallway outside. Silence settled over the chamber, broken only by the boy's occasional mutterings.
"Why are you here?" she asked finally.
"To see if you survived," he said, voice soft, almost too soft. "To see if the bond… still calls."
Her heart skipped, the wolf beneath her skin stirring in furious acknowledgment. The bond called. Always had, always would. And it had a voice that was impossible to ignore.
"Funny," she said, forcing the words out. "It called seven years ago. You ignored it."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "I was… deceived. That night—" He paused, swallowing hard. The memory was sharp, fragmented, painful. "I did not… I did not know."
Her chest tightened, and she swallowed past the bitterness that flared. Lies. Half-truths. Convenient memory. She could not forgive yet, not fully. But she could not deny the pull either.
The room seemed smaller now, the space between them charged with unsaid words, remembered nights, and instinctive hunger.
The boy tugged at her sleeve. "Mama, are we going to fight them? Or are they going to fight each other?"
Serena's lips twitched in spite of herself. "Neither," she said, and for the first time, a faint spark of amusement touched her voice. "We're going to survive. That's the plan."
Alaric's wolf growled, impatient. Mate. Child. Claim.
Alaric's eyes darkened. "Survival is not enough," he said quietly, the hunger threading through his voice despite his control. "You, and him… you are mine. The bond does not lie."
Serena bristled, yet a shiver ran down her spine she would not admit. Her wolf snarled, pushing back. Not yet. Not on my terms.
Alaric stepped closer again, closer than etiquette allowed. The air between them was electric, and she could smell him now, really smell him. Pine, leather, something wild and impossible to ignore. Her pulse accelerated, her wolf quivering with recognition and frustration.
"Step back," she whispered, though the edges of her mouth betrayed amusement. "I'm dangerous when provoked."
"And yet," he said, voice low, dangerous, amused, "I'm still here."
The tension in the room coiled, thick as the rain outside, sharp as moonlight on steel. Neither of them moved, and yet the bond hummed, vibrating, almost tangible. Serena realized with a sinking thrill that this was the start of something they could not deny.
Alaric's gaze softened, if only slightly, as his wolf rumbled low. "You'll stay," he said simply, "until I know nothing else can harm you—or him."
Serena's heart thumped, but her pride did not break. "I stay for survival, Your Majesty. Nothing else."
"Of course," he said, voice dark, and yet, threaded with the promise of something far older and far more dangerous.
And for the first time in seven years, Serena Vale realized that staying meant more than survival—it meant walking straight into the fire of the Alpha's obsession… and possibly, into her own.