Raven:
The grass is wet beneath my knees, soaking through my jeans, but I don't move. I've been kneeling in front of my father's grave for the past hour, and I still don't have the words.
Michael Donier. Beloved Father.
That's all the headstone says. Simple. Plain. Like his life didn't matter. Like he was just another name in a cemetery full of forgotten wolves.
But he mattered to me.
"I start today, Dad." My voice cracks, and I hate how weak I sound. "I'm going to walk into that building and work for the family that killed you."
The wind picks up, scattering leaves across the grave. I press my palm against the cold stone, wishing I could feel his warmth one more time.
"I need you." The words come out broken, desperate. "I need your strength because I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this alone."
"I'm scared," I admit, and the tears finally come. Hot and angry and eight years overdue. "I'm scared I'll see him and I'll fall apart. That I'll remember what he did to me and I'll forget why I'm there."
I close my eyes and I'm sixteen again.
The Spring Equinox Festival. The Lockwood estate glowing with lanterns and moonlight.
I wore a pale blue dress my father bought with money we didn't have. He'd smiled when I came downstairs, told me I looked beautiful. I actually believed him.
The moment I stepped into the garden, I felt it.
The pull.
Like an invisible thread wrapped around my heart and yanked. My wolf surged forward, desperate and hopeful, and I knew with absolute certainty what it meant.
Mate.
Adrian Lockwood was my mate.
He stood across the garden, tall and devastating in a black suit that made him look older than seventeen. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his storm-gray eyes scanning the crowd with the casual arrogance of someone who'd never been told no.
Our eyes met.
For one perfect, infinite second, I saw recognition flash across his face. His wolf sensed mine. He felt the pull too.
My heart soared.
I walked toward him, with my hands trembling, my wolf singing with joy. The crowd parted. Everyone was watching. Whispering.
I stopped in front of him and looked up into those beautiful, cruel eyes.
"Adrian," I whispered. "I think we're….,"
"No."
My smile faltered. "But I felt it."
"You felt nothing." He stepped back like I was something diseased. "You're mistaken."
"Adrian."
"I am the future alpha of the Crescent Bay Lockwood Pack." His voice carried across the silent garden. "My mate will be powerful. Worthy of standing beside me." His eyes raked over me with open disgust. "You are none of those things."
Tears blurred my vision. My wolf whimpered, confused and hurt.
"I, Adrian Lockwood, future alpha of the Crescent Bay Lockwood Pack, formally reject you as my mate."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Pain exploded through my chest. My wolf screamed, thrashing violently as she tried to surface, tried to fight, tried to refuse. But Adrian's alpha command was absolute. She was forced down, shoved back with such violence that something inside me tore.
I collapsed.
Gasping. Choking. My ribs felt like they were breaking from the inside as my wolf clawed desperately against the rejection.
Heels clicked on stone.
Anastasia Harrington crouched beside me, she was perfect.
"Oh, sweetie." Her voice dripped with false sympathy. "Did you actually think Adrian would want you?"
She held a glass of red wine.
"Look at yourself." She poured the wine over my head. Cold liquid ran down my face, into my eyes, my mouth. "You're fat. You're pathetic. And most importantly, you're a nobody."
She stood, wiping her hands on a napkin. "He's mine. He's always been mine. And you?" She leaned close, her breath hot against my ear. "You're nothing."
The pack laughed.
Every single one of them.
I knelt there on the garden stones, covered in wine and shame, while the entire Crescent Bay Pack watched and laughed.
I ran.
Stumbled through the crowd, ignoring the whispers and the laughter, and ran until my lungs burned and my legs gave out.
I ended up in the woods behind the estate, curled against a tree, sobbing so hard I thought I might break.
That's where my father found me.
He didn't say anything at first. He just sat beside me and pulled me into his arms, letting me cry into his chest while he stroked my hair.
"They're not worthy of your tears, little wolf," he finally whispered. "Not a single one of them."
"He rejected me." My voice was raw, broken. "He felt the bond and he rejected me anyway."
"Then he's a fool." My father tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. They were dark and fierce and full of love. "You are more than worthy. More than enough. And someday, you're going to be so powerful that they'll regret ever making you feel small."
I wanted to believe him.
God, I wanted to believe him so badly.
He took off his wedding ring—the one he still wore even though my mother had left us years ago to marry the alpha of the Riverbend Pack. She'd wanted status, power, a place in pack hierarchy that a lone wolf could never give her.
She didn't even come to the rejection ceremony. Didn't call. Didn't care.
"Your mother left because she was weak," my father said, pressing the ring into my palm. "She chose comfort over love. But you?" He squeezed my hand. "You're strong. Stronger than she ever was. Stronger than they know."
I held onto that ring like it was a lifeline.
Held onto his words.
Two weeks later, I came home from my shift at the coffee shop and found him hanging in the bathroom.
The suicide note was on the counter next to a bottle of sleeping pills.
I'm sorry for what I've done. I can't live with the shame. Please forgive me.
I knew immediately it was a lie.
My father didn't write like that, he certainly didn't talk like that. And he would never leave me alone after promising I was strong enough to survive.
But no one believed me.
The human police closed the case within a week. The Pack Council didn't even bother investigating—lone wolves weren't worth their time.
And I was left with nothing but rage and a wedding ring and the absolute certainty that the Lockwoods had murdered my father.
"I'm going to make them pay." I press my forehead against the cold headstone. "I promise you, Dad. I'm going to prove what they did. And I'm going to destroy them."
I stand, brushing dirt and grass from my jeans. The sun is rising over the cemetery, painting the headstones in shades of gold and amber.
My phone buzzes. A calendar reminder.
First day at Lockwood Enterprises. 7:30 AM.
Eight years of planning. Eight years of changing everything about myself — the way I look, the way I speak, the way I walk into a room. They won't see the girl they destroyed. They'll see exactly who I need them to be.
I take one last look at my father's grave.
"Be with me today," I whisper. "Please."
Then I turn and walk away.
Lockwood Enterprises towers over downtown Seattle like a monument to pack power.
I stand on the sidewalk, staring up at it, and for one moment I want to run.
Don't you dare, Nyx snarls. We didn't come this far to be a coward now.
I force myself to breathe. To remember why I'm here.
The lobby is all marble and modern art. I sign in at security, get my temporary badge, and take the elevator to the sixty-eighth floor.
The executive level.
Rachel from HR is waiting when the doors open. She's sharp and polished in a way that makes me feel like she can see right through my carefully constructed facade.
"Ms. Stone. Right on time." She extends her hand.
"Your desk is ready. Mr. Lockwood should arrive within the hour."
She leads me down a corridor of glass-walled offices. At the end of the hall sits the largest office, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
Adrian's office.
My heart pounds.
Steady, Nyx whispers. Don't let him see anything.
Rachel stops at a sleek desk positioned just outside Adrian's door. "This is you. I've loaded your credentials. Mr. Lockwood's calendar is synced here."
She hands me a tablet with his schedule. Board meeting at nine, lunch at twelve-thirty, and a conference call at three.
"He has very high standards," Rachel says. "You're his fourth assistant this year."
"I understand."
She studies me for a moment longer, then nods. "Good luck."
I spend the next hour preparing. Reviewing files. Memorizing schedules. Trying not to think about the fact that I'm about to see him again.
At exactly 7:52, the elevator dings.
My wolf goes completely still.
The doors open.
And Adrian Lockwood steps out.
He's even more devastating than I remember. Taller, easily six-four now. His charcoal suit is perfectly tailored, his dark hair styled with casual precision. But it's his eyes that make my breath catch.
Storm-gray. Utterly in control.
He doesn't even glance at me as he walks past.
Then he stops.
His eyes meet mine, and I feel it.
The pull.
Sharp and undeniable, like a hook through my chest.
His expression doesn't change, but I see his pupils dilate. See the slight tension in his jaw.
His wolf senses mine.
"Ms. Stone." His voice is deeper than I remember. "You're early."
"I believe in being prepared, Mr. Lockwood."
He studies me for a long moment. Like he's trying to solve a puzzle he doesn't understand.
Then he extends his hand.
"Welcome to Lockwood Enterprises."
I stare at his hand.
Eight years ago, this man rejected me in front of an entire pack. Told me I was worthless. Stood by while Anastasia humiliated me.
And now he's offering me his hand like none of it ever happened.
Because he doesn't recognize me.
I reach out and take his hand.
The moment our skin touches, the world tilts.
Heat explodes up my arm. My wolf surges forward with a desperate, hungry sound. And I feel it — the mate bond, still alive after eight years, roaring to life like it was never broken.
Adrian goes completely still.
His hand tightens around mine. His eyes widen, just slightly, and I see shock flicker across his face.
He feels it too.
The pull. The recognition. The undeniable certainty that we're meant to be together.
For one perfect, terrifying second, we just stand there. Connected. Staring at each other.
Then he drops my hand like I've burned him.
"I—" His voice is rough. Shaken. "I have calls to make before the board meeting."
He turns and walks into his office without another word.