Prologue – 2020
Selene's POV
The night was supposed to be mine. My eighteenth birthday, the night the pack gathered beneath the full moon to witness my first shift, the moment destiny was meant to claim me. I stood barefoot in the clearing, the cold biting at my skin, my heart pounding with anticipation. The elders chanted, the pack watched, and I waited for the fire to ignite in my blood, for the wolf to rise.
But nothing happened.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Whispers rippled through the crowd, pity in some eyes, disgust in others. No wolf. No bond. Broken. Useless. My chest tightened, shame burning hotter than the cold. I wanted to scream, to demand another chance, but the truth was undeniable. My wolf had not come.
The rejection was swift. The pack turned their backs, their voices sharp as knives. I was no longer one of them. Not truly. Not without a wolf.
I ran.
Through the forest, through the streets, until the neon lights of the city swallowed me whole. I didn't care where I ended up, only that it wasn't there, in that clearing, under their judgment. The club was chaos — bass pounding like a heartbeat, lights flashing crimson and violet, bodies moving in a blur. I wasn't supposed to be here, but I needed to forget.
That was when I saw him.
Leaning against the bar, tattoos curling up his arms, silver glinting from his ear and eyebrow. His eyes — piercing blue, cold fire — locked onto mine, and my breath faltered. Heat surged through me, dark and unrelenting. My wolf was silent, but my body betrayed me. Lust clawed at me, raw and hungry. I imagined his hands on me, his tattoos against my skin, his mouth claiming mine. Shame burned, but desire drowned it.
He moved toward me, the crowd parting as if the night itself bent to his will.
"You don't belong here," he said, voice low, rough, threaded with danger.
I forced a smirk, though my knees trembled. "Maybe I do tonight."
His lips curved, not quite a smile, more like a challenge. "Then prove it. Dance with me."
His hand closed around mine, hot, possessive, and I gasped. My wolf stayed silent, but my pulse thundered. Every brush of his skin made me ache, every flicker of his gaze made me burn.
The music surged, and suddenly we were moving together, bodies colliding, the heat of him pressing against me. His tattoos shifted like shadows across his skin, his piercings glinting under the lights. His breath brushed my ear, his voice a growl. "You're fire. And I want to burn."
My knees weakened, my pulse thundered. Dark thoughts consumed me — his body pressing me into the sheets, his mouth tracing every inch of me, his hands marking me as his. I wanted it all. I wanted him to ruin me, to make me forget the rejection, the shame, the emptiness.
I didn't resist when he led me out into the night. The city was alive, neon signs flickering, sirens wailing in the distance, but none of it mattered. His leather jacket brushed against my arm, the scent of smoke and whiskey clinging to him. We walked fast, like we were chasing something we couldn't name, until we reached the hotel.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn, the city lights spilling in faint gold. He closed the door behind us, and suddenly the silence was louder than the music had been. My heart hammered, my breath caught, and when he stepped closer, I felt the storm inside me break.
His jacket fell to the floor, leather whispering against the carpet. Tattoos shifted across his skin as he moved, alive in the half‑light. His body was all sharp lines and restless energy, yet when his hand brushed mine, it was gentle, almost reverent.
He kissed me again, slower this time, lips tracing mine like he was memorizing the shape of them. His hands framed my face, then slid down, tracing the curve of my shoulders, the line of my spine. My breath caught, my body trembling under the weight of his touch.
I felt the contradiction in him — danger and tenderness, hunger and restraint. He pressed me back against the bed, his body moving with mine, guiding me, coaxing me. Every shift of his weight, every brush of his skin against mine, was a question I answered without words.
The sheets were cool beneath me, the world narrowing to the heat of him above me. My wolf was silent, but my thoughts were loud, dark, unrelenting. I wanted him to consume me, to erase the rejection, to make me forget everything but this moment.
When he whispered my name, it sounded like a vow. And when I whispered his back — Orion — it felt like surrender.
The night blurred into heat and shadows, into touches that lingered and kisses that deepened until I was lost. I didn't care about tomorrow, didn't care about the consequences. All I cared about was him, the way his body moved with mine, the way he made me feel alive for the first time.
And when dawn crept through the curtains, painting the sheets in pale light, I slipped away. He slept, tattoos hidden beneath the blanket, lips parted in silence. I left him there, carrying with me the memory of his touch, the echo of his voice, and the secret that would change everything.
Orion's POV
I hadn't planned to be here. The bar was supposed to be a distraction, a place to drown the weight of mafia meetings and blood debts. I came for the whiskey, for the noise, for the chance to forget the empire waiting outside these walls. But then I saw her.
She was fire. Dark hair, storm‑grey eyes, defiance in the way she held herself. My wolf snapped awake the moment her gaze met mine, the bond slamming into place with brutal force. Mate. The word burned through me, undeniable.
She didn't feel it. Not yet. Her wolf was silent. But I did. I felt it in every breath, every heartbeat, every kiss.
Later, in the quiet of the hotel room, the city lights painting her skin in gold, I realized I had crossed a line I could never uncross. Her lips tasted of rebellion, her touch of fire. And when she whispered my name, I knew I was ruined.
But when I woke, she was gone.
The bond remained, sharp and unyielding, but she had vanished into the city, leaving only the echo of her scent and the memory of her touch. I didn't know her name, didn't know her story, but I knew one truth.
She was mine.
And someday, I would find her again.