The room fills with polite applause.
I don’t move. I can’t move.
Lucas Steele.
My mate is the Alpha of Silvercrest Pack.
His eyes find mine as he looks around the table, and I watch recognition flash across his face. For a split second, I catch his unguarded expression—one of surprise, maybe even panic.
Then, his face goes blank. Completely, utterly blank. He looks away from me like I’m not even here.
Even as a pang of hurt passes through me, my jaw tightens in anger.
This is the second time he has ignored me.
Chapter Three
Lucas
My wolf is trying to claw his way out of my skin.
Why is she here?
The question screams through my mind as Darius introduces me to the assembled division heads. I maintain the dignified aura expected of the Alpha of Silvercrest Pack, but on the inside, I’m barely holding on.
She’s sitting three seats down from me. I saw her the moment I turned around. Charcoal gray suit, dark hair, eyes that met mine with shock and then…anger.
I made my face blank and pretended she was no one. The hurt that flashed across her face was like a knife to my chest.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
The word pounds through my skull with every heartbeat. My wolf hasn’t shut up since last night, since I felt her hands on my shoulders in that hallway, since her scent wrapped around me like a warm hug and I knew with absolute certainty what she was.
Mine.
I was rude—pushed her, even—and walked away from the most important person I’ll ever meet.
And now, she’s here. In this room. Close enough that I can smell her scent, that same heavenly blend of jasmine and citrus that haunted my dreams last night.
Focus. I need to focus.
Darius is explaining the merger timeline to the assembled department heads. This alliance matters. Silvercrest and Moonvale combining resources could reshape pack dynamics across the entire region.
I’ve been working toward this for two years. I can’t let personal complications derail it. Even if the complication is sitting three seats away, radiating fury in my direction.
“The integration will happen in three phases,” Darius says, pulling up a slide on the screen behind him. “Phase one is assessment: understanding each pack’s current operations, identifying synergies and potential conflicts. Phase two is planning: developing the actual integration strategy. Phase three is implementation.”
I nod, forcing myself to look at the screen, at Darius, at anything except her. The division heads around the table are watching carefully, some taking notes, others exchanging glances. They’re evaluating me as much as I’m evaluating them.
I can feel her gaze on me. Burning into the side of my face.
I don’t look.
“For phase one, we’ll have teams embedded in each other’s territories,” Darius continues. “Silvercrest will have observers here at Moonvale, and Moonvale will send a team to Silvercrest. The goal is transparency—no surprises, no hidden problems surfacing after we’ve committed.”
“How long is phase one?” someone asks. A man in his fifties, head of Moonvale’s operations division, based on his nameplate.
“Four weeks on site for the assessment teams,” I answer, grateful for someone else to focus on. Anyone who isn’t her. “Weekly video conferences between leadership to discuss findings. At the end of four weeks, both teams present their assessments, and we decide whether to proceed to phase two.”
