She jumped 6

What the actual hell?

The mysterious stranger, the one who caught me in the tower, who whispered “mine” during the ceremony, who made my blood sing—was the Hector Veylor?

The Silent Heir himself? Goddess above, you’ve got to be kidding me.

My legs nearly gave out and the marketplace spun around me as the weight of realization crashed down.

Every time my breath hitched, every time my skin buzzed for no reason—I knew it was because of him. Hector. The stranger from the tower. The most dangerous Alpha heir in the kingdom. And somehow, the one who’d taken up permanent space in my head. He hadn’t even touched me—not really—and still, my body reacted like it remembered something my mind hadn’t figured out yet.

Hector stood frozen, silver eyes wide with something that looked like resignation. His friend had already dragged him back, but now Hector shook him off with barely controlled violence.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice rough and strained. The words sounded like they were being ripped from his throat.

“Wait—” I stepped forward, desperate for answers, for explanations, for anything that would make sense of this chaos.

But he was already backing away, shaking his head. “I can’t. Not here. Not now.”

“Hector—”

“Don’t.” The single word cracked like a whip. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his entire body radiating tension. “Just… don’t.”

And then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there like a fool with my heart hammering against my ribs.

No explanations. No promises to talk later. Nothing.

Just the lingering scent of cedar and moonlight, and the devastating knowledge that I had been played with.

“Lyss! There you are!” Morgan’s voice cut through my spiral of humiliation.

She appeared beside me, arms full of market goods, then immediately dropped everything when she saw my face.

“Moon’s blood, what happened? You look like someone just told you the kingdom was burning.”

I couldn’t speak. Wasn’t capable of forming the words to explain this disaster.

Morgan grabbed my shoulders, her grip tight enough to bruise. “Lyssira Fowler, you talk to me right now. What’s wrong?”

“It’s him,” I finally choked out.

“Him who?”

“The stranger. The one from the tower.” My voice cracked. “It’s Hector Veylor.”

The color drained from Morgan’s face so fast I thought she might actually collapse right there in the marketplace. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide with absolute horror.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no. Tell me you’re lying.”

“I wish I was.”

“How do you know? Are you sure? Maybe you’re mistaken—”

“His friend called his name. Right in front of me.” Bitterness poured through my voice like poison. “Called him ‘Hector Veylor, The She-Wolf Magnet.'”

Morgan’s face went from white to green. She actually swayed on her feet, and I had to grab her arm to keep her upright.

“Oh, Lyss,” she breathed. “Oh, Moon Goddess help us all.”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Not that bad?!” Morgan’s voice pitched so high it cracked.

Several vendors turned to stare at us. She grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the crowd, into a shadowed alcove between two stalls.

“Lyssira, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Her eyes were wild, terrified. “Hector Veylor doesn’t just talk to random she-wolves. He doesn’t flirt. He doesn’t play games. The male barely acknowledges that other people exist!”

“Maybe that’s exactly what this was—a game.”

“No.” Morgan shook her head violently. “You don’t understand. There are stories about the Veylor bloodline, about what happens when they find their—” She stopped abruptly, her face going ashen.

“Their what?”

“Their true mate.”

The words hit me like ice water. “Wait, wait, wait. That’s not— We’re not—”

“Lyss, listen to me very carefully.” Morgan’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “The Veylor line doesn’t just fall in love. They imprint. They bond so completely with their chosen mate that separation becomes physical agony. Hector’s father nearly died when his mother killed herself because he couldn’t bear the severed connection.”

My stomach clenched. “That’s just stories—”

“His mother Elena went mad from a forced bond during The Virgin Games. She couldn’t handle being claimed by someone who wasn’t her true mate. It tore her apart from the inside.” Sariah’s grip on my arms tightened. “But Hector— Hector has never shown interest in anyone before. Ever. The fact that he’s even looked at you twice…”

She trailed off, her expression growing more horrified by the second.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“If you’re his true mate, if the bond is trying to form…” Sariah’s voice shook. “Lyss, you are already in the game but if you end up as his chosen she-wolf.. Oh my Goddess. I don’t even want to think about that… If you’re forced to bond with him before you’re ready, before the connection is natural—”

“I’ll end up like his mother.”

“Or he’ll end up like his father—half-mad from loving someone who can’t love him back.”

The implications crashed over me like a tidal wave. Every moment between Hector and me suddenly took on a sinister edge. His protective behavior, his restraint, his obvious struggle for control—what if it wasn’t noble? What if it was desperation?

“I need to stay away from him,” I said, more to myself than to Morgan.

“Yes. Absolutely yes!” she nodded frantically. “Whatever connection you think you feel, whatever attraction—it can be the very beginning of the end. For both of you.”

But even as I agreed, even as I promised to avoid Hector Veylor at all costs, I couldn’t forget the look in his silver eyes when he’d walked away.

It hadn’t been relief. It had been anguish.