The Vance Tower rose forty-five stories above Manhattan, all glass and steel and aggressive modernity. Lyla stood in the lobby, clutching her portfolio, trying to calm her racing heart.
Kael Vance.
She'd googled him last night. The search results had been overwhelming. CEO of Vance Industries. Net worth estimated at $4.7 billion. Philanthropist. Real estate mogul. Reclusive—almost no photographs, no interviews, no social media presence. His name was attached to buildings, to foundations, to charitable initiatives, but his face was a mystery.
No mention of golden eyes. No mention of a masquerade ball five years ago.
But Leo was never wrong.
"Ms. Blackwood?" A sleek assistant approached, her heels clicking on the marble floor. "They're ready for you. Follow me, please."
The elevator ride was interminable. Forty-five floors of silent ascent, her reflection staring back at her from polished steel. She'd worn her best suit—navy blue, professional, armor against the world. Her hair was pulled back. Her makeup was perfect. Her hands were shaking.
Inside, she was screaming.
The boardroom was all glass and steel, overlooking Manhattan. Twelve executives sat around a gleaming table. At the head, a chair faced the window, its back to her.
"Present your proposal," a woman's voice said. Cold. Polished. Lyla recognized her from the research—Selena Thorne, CFO. Sharp features, sharp eyes, red hair pulled into a severe bun. She looked like the kind of woman who had never made a mistake and never forgiven anyone else for making one.
Lyla nodded, pulling up her digital presentation on the room's massive screen. "The Vance Tower was constructed in 1982. While structurally sound, its energy efficiency lags behind modern standards by approximately forty percent. My proposal reimagines the facade while preserving the historic integrity—"
The chair at the head of the table turned.
Golden eyes met hers.
Lyla's voice died.
It was him.
Older. Harder. Lines of tension carved around his mouth, shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. His hair was shorter, his jaw sharper, his shoulders broader. But it was him. The same impossible eyes. The same jaw. The same hands that had held her face as he kissed her goodbye five years ago.
He stared at her with absolute blankness.
No recognition. No flash of memory. No hint that he had ever seen her before. His eyes moved over her like she was a stranger, an inconvenience, a minor detail in a busy day.
"...Ms. Blackwood?" Selena's voice dripped impatience. "You stopped speaking."
Lyla gripped the remote so hard her knuckles whitened. "I—yes. Sorry. The energy efficiency... I was saying..."
She stumbled through the rest of the presentation. Her voice sounded distant, like someone else was speaking through her. All she could feel was those golden eyes tracking her, evaluating her, seeing nothing of the night they had shared.
She showed her designs, her energy models, her cost projections. She explained her vision for the building—a structure that would honor the past while embracing the future. Her voice steadied as she spoke about her work, because this was the one thing she knew she was good at. The one thing she had built for herself, without him, without anyone.
When she finished, silence filled the room.
Selena exchanged a glance with the man next to her. "Leave the proposal. We'll notify you."
Lyla gathered her things with shaking hands. She was at the door when his voice stopped her.
"Ms. Blackwood."
She froze.
"You have children?"
The question hit her like a physical blow. She turned slowly. His expression was unreadable, but something flickered in those golden depths—a spark of something that might have been recognition, or might have been nothing at all.
"I... yes. Twins. A boy and a girl."
"How old?"
"Four."
"Four." He said it like the word meant something. Like he was tasting it, weighing it. "And their father?"
The room went very still. Selena's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening with sudden interest.
"I'm sorry," Lyla said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Is that relevant to the renovation proposal?"
Kael's jaw tightened. For a moment, something raw and hungry crossed his face—a flash of the man she had met at the masquerade, the man who had looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. Then it was gone, replaced by professional blankness.
"No. It's not relevant. Thank you for your time, Ms. Blackwood."
She fled.
Behind her, Kael pressed a hand to his chest. His wolf was going insane inside him, clawing at his ribs, screaming one word on repeat:
MATE. MATE. MATE.
"Kael?" Selena's voice was sharp. "What was that about? Do you know her?"
"Nothing." He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Review her proposal. I want a full analysis by tomorrow."
He left the boardroom, walked to his private office, and locked the door.
Then he collapsed into his chair, head in his hands, and let his wolf rage.
She's our mate, the wolf snarled. Our true mate. We searched for five years. We found her. WHY DIDN'T WE CLAIM HER?
"Because she's human," Kael whispered. "She can't be our mate. The Goddess wouldn't—"
The Goddess doesn't make mistakes. You felt it the moment you touched her. I felt it. She's OURS.
"She has children. Twins. Four years old." The math clicked into place with sickening precision. Four years old. Nine months after the masquerade.
His blood turned to ice.
Ours, the wolf repeated, quieter now, almost reverent. The children are ours. I can smell them on her. They carry our blood.
Kael grabbed his phone. "Marcus. Get in here. Now."
His Beta arrived within minutes—massive, scarred, utterly loyal. Marcus had been with him since childhood, had fought beside him through wars and challenges and the long, lonely years of searching. His face was weathered, his eyes sharp, his presence a solid anchor in Kael's chaotic world.
"Alpha?"
"I need you to investigate someone. Lyla Blackwood. The architect who presented today. I need everything. Where she lives, who she sees, every detail of her life for the last five years."
Marcus's eyebrows rose. "Alpha? Is there a reason for this?"
Kael turned to the window, staring at the city below. "She's the one. The woman from the masquerade. And she has children. Twins."
Marcus went very still. "Twins?"
"Four years old."
"Alpha... if they're yours—"
"They're mine." Kael's voice was rough, raw. "I know they're mine. My wolf recognized her scent, her blood, her children. But she's human. She doesn't know what she is. She doesn't know what they are."
"She doesn't know she's your mate?"
"She doesn't know anything. And someone—" He turned back, his eyes blazing gold. "Someone has been hunting her children. There was an incident at their daycare six months ago. Two men, found unconscious. No records. No identification."
Marcus's expression hardened. "Rogues?"
"Probably. Crimson Fang markings. Selena's old pack."
"Selena." Marcus's voice dropped. "Alpha, if she knows about the children—"
"Then we need to protect them. Before it's too late."
Marcus nodded once. "I'll find out everything. And Alpha?"
"Yes?"
"Congratulations. You're a father."
Kael laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I'm a father who didn't know his children existed for four years. I'm a mate who left his woman alone and pregnant. I don't think congratulations are in order."
"The past is the past. What matters is what you do now."
Kael looked at the city, at the millions of lives spread out below him, and thought of a woman with silver eyes and a child's voice that whispered his name in the dark.
"I'm going to find them. I'm going to protect them. And I'm never letting them go again."