“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know.” She nodded again, slower this time. “Take care of yourself, Roman.”
“I will.”
She slipped out the door, and my past walked out with her. The silence that followed was different now. Not the tense, heavy quiet of expectation, but a clean stillness. It was honest. Final. It made space for something new.
I exhaled slowly and dragged a hand down my face.
It didn’t feel like closure. It felt like a chapter I’d already closed being pried open again by someone else’s agenda. But at least it was over now.
I turned to the window and stared out across the sprawling estate, my chest aching for an entirely different reason. I had no idea if Maggie would still be there when I got back. Or if she’d walked out of the apartment, and my life, for good. If she was gone, I’d never fucking forgive myself. I would’ve let her walk out in pain with no explanation, just my silence and cowardice dragging behind her like a shadow.
I’d chosen obedience to Lucien and the pack over her, and I hated myself for it. But if I still had a chance, any chance at all, I wasn’t going to waste it.
I foundLucien at the bar, swirling something expensive and dark in a crystal glass like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in my life. Except, the grin he shot me was short-lived. In front of him, next to the glass, sat the ley line tracker, its display an anemic flicker of blue, the numbers so low they looked like a death sentence. My fingers started drumming against my thigh before I even realized it, keeping me anchored while my brain scrambled to line up the next dozen thoughts.
He stared at it like it had betrayed him. “Did Willow leave already?”
I didn’t sit. I didn’t smile. I didn’t play along. “I need to talk to you.”
His eyebrows lifted, clearly entertained. “Well, well. That tone. Those eyes. Finally growing some balls, are we?”
“I’m not here to play games, Lucien,” I said flatly. “You threw Willow at me like she was a solution to a problem I didn’t ask you to solve.”
Lucien shrugged. “She was a contingency plan. It would have allowed you to increase the power in our pack while simultaneously giving you a strong partner.”
I scoffed. “I’ve spent my entire life making choices based on what you wanted. What the pack needed. I let you mold me into the person you thought would be useful. But that stops now.”
His smirk faded a fraction.
“I made the first break when I left the pack lands, choosing to live in the city on my own. But even then, I still let yourexpectations drive everything. The claiming ceremony. The fake bond. I told myself I could handle it. That I could keep Maggie at arm’s length and keep you happy at the same time.” My voice caught on her name. “But I can’t do that anymore. I’m done pretending.”
Lucien didn’t speak, but he watched me calculating stillness.
“I love her,” I said. “Maggie. She’s not a ‘pack-approved match’ or part of some magic-strengthening scheme. She’s chaos and color and absolutely nothing like I was told I should want. And she’s everything to me.”
He let out a long breath. “So what do you want, Roman?”
“I want her. I want the city. I’ll help the pack, because I still care, but the idea of taking on the role of beta crushes my soul. It’s not who I am. And the thought of rushing Maggie into a mating bond she isn’t ready for is something I’m not interested in. She comes first. Then the pack. I’ll do anything else. But not that.”
I went on before he could interrupt. “I’m not a leader. I’m the one who sees the cracks before they spread. I notice when someone hasn’t shown up for dinner three nights in a row. I recognize when someone’s pretending to shift because they’re too ashamed to admit they can’t. That’s who I am.”
Lucien leaned back, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile.
“I don’t want the power,” I said. “I want the connection. I want to live a life that actually feels like mine.”
He studied me for a long beat, then set his glass down beside the still-sickly glow of the tracker. “And that,” he said, “is exactly why I carved out a role for you two seasons ago.”
My brow furrowed. “What role?”
“Pack Integration Officer,” he said like it was obvious. “A liaison between wolves like you—estranged, displaced, disillusioned—and the core pack structure. A bridge. A buffer. Atranslator between the old ways and the modern world. It’s not a seat of power. It’s connection. You’d help wolves acclimate to life off-pack. Get them housing, help with employment, teach them the rhythms. Paperwork, therapy, friendship. You’d keep them from falling through the cracks.”
“You want me to be the pack’s social worker?”
“I want you to be the glue,” Lucien said simply. “You’re already doing it without realizing it. You notice when someone’s missing. You recognize when they’re struggling. You see patterns before they turn into problems. That’s not weakness, Roman. That’s leadership most alphas can’t fake.”
I swallowed hard. “And you’d really trust me with that?”
