Chapter 20
One afternoon, he led me to a balcony overlooking the edge of the forest. Golden light filtered through the trees like something out of a movie. He leaned on the railing like a king surveying a kingdom he built from blood.
“I thought you were running a cult,” I muttered into my tea.
He turned with one brow arched. “Excuse me?”
“Giant white wolf. Men with code names. The staring. It screamed ‘cult’.”
He snorted. “You’re not the first to say that.”
“‘Alpha of the Western Ridge Pack’ isn’t exactly helping your case, you know.”
He smirked. “Didn’t ask for your approval, little fox.” Then he went quiet. And when he spoke again, his voice was lower. “Our mated bond… it’s real, but not in the way you think. It doesn’t mean you have to love me. It just means we’re tied. You can hate me, you can try to leave. But I’ll still feel it and so will you.”
I stared at the horizon. “So I’m trapped.”
“No,” he said. “You’re tethered. There’s a difference. Don’t confuse the two.”
“And if I cut the cord?”
“You don’t want to know what happens if you do.” He looked at me then, jaw tight. “Neither do I.”
Pierce wasn’t threatening this time, wasn’t begging. He was just… honest. And for the first time since he dragged me into his world, I realized I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
I was afraid of how much I understood him. Because I could still feel the darkness in him, the possessiveness, the violence, the raw hunger for control. But I could also feel the restraint. And if a man like Pierce Leneghan was restraining himself for me… maybe that meant something.
I didn’t trust him, but I didn’t hate him either. That scared me more than anything could.
Later that night, we actually had a decent dinner. Decent dinner means no arguing and staring contests, just actual food and semi-normal vibes.
Then he poured himself a glass of scotch and casually dropped the bomb. “I want to introduce you to my pack.”
I blinked, stopped putting food in my mouth. “Excuse me?”
He took a sip, like this wasn’t a big deal. “As my Luna.”
“Okay, funny,” I laughed ridiculously. “You’re hilarious, Leneghan.”
“I’m completely serious.”
The smile dropped off my face. “You can’t just decide that.”
“I can do whatever I want, Lyra. I’m not asking you anyway. Just kindly and sincerely informing you.”
“Pierce,” I said, putting down my fork, “I barely agreed to stay on your property on my will. Now you wanna go full Werewolf King & Queen?”
“It’s not about the ceremony. It’s about what you already are.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And what’s that?”
“Mine,” he said simply. “They just need to see it.”
My chest tightened. “That’s insane. I’m not ready. I don’t even know if I want this.”
He nodded once, but there was something cold in his eyes. Not angry. Just… done.
“Ready or not,” he said, “they’ll know who you are soon.” He said finality like an argument isn’t included in the discussion.
Just a calm little warning that sounded a hell of a lot like fate giving me the finger.
After that dinner, he didn’t push the Luna thing again but he started bringing people around—casual introductions that weren’t casual at all. Like I wouldn’t notice he was slowly unfolding his world and handing it to me in pieces.
He’s so persistent.
First was Dom, his Beta—whatever that title actually meant, aside from scary as hell second-in-command. Built like he ate raw meat and bench-pressed trucks, a buzz cut hair with intensity at 200%.
He looked at me like he was deciding whether I was a threat or just temporary. “Break his heart,” he said, “and I won’t stop him from burning the city. But I won’t stop you either.”
“Cool,” I said. “Love that for me.”
Then another came. Her name is Calla, his enforcer. She was hot, like, supermodel-hot. That one also looked like she could rip my spine out with her bare hands and not break a sweat.
She scanned me once. “Don’t mistake survival for weakness. We’ve all bled to get here.”
“Noted.” I gave her an awkward smile.
Then lastly, I was introduced to Matteo, Pierce’s consigliere. He’s in a slick suit and smiled too slowly. Smart enough to make you nervous.
“We’re all very curious about you,” he said, bowing a little. “Some of us… cautiously optimistic.”
Translation: ‘Don’t screw up, human girl’.
No one said anything about Pierce’s claim but I felt it in every look and word. I was being judged.
Not as a guest, as his mate. And honestly? That messed with my head. But here’s the thing—I didn’t hide and cry, I didn’t lock my door or throw a dramatic fit. I stood there. Took it all in. Chin up, back straight. Like I belonged even if I didn’t feel it yet.
I watched werewolves spar in the courtyard, bones shifting, muscles cracking, fur crawling over skin like it was nothing.
I saw staff bow their heads slightly when Pierce passed. I caught them glancing at me too, waiting, watching, whispering behind my back. And Pierce? He was different now. He didn’t grab or demand. He just looked at me like he was giving me space to figure it out… or expecting me to walk away.
I still didn’t know if I could handle this world. The blood, the power, the pack.
But with Pierce? …Maybe.
