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I looked up. He sat upright and adjusted his robe, his expression suddenly, jarringly serious.

“In the structure. In leadership. In legacy. And I need people I trust at my side.”

My stomach twisted. “You mean me?”

He sipped his latte slowly and deliberately. “The version of you that stops running from responsibility and starts embracing it.” He tilted his head. “And also, the one that makes my brunches look flawless. But mostly the first thing.”

“Is there something specific coming?”

Lucien smiled, all teeth. “Darling, you’ll find out soon enough. For now, just be prepared to perform and do what’s asked of you.”

I laughed under my breath. “When am I not performing?”

Lucien went still for half a beat, then he looked at me with something too close to empathy. It knocked the air right out of my lungs. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

The words hit harder than I expected. Too close. Too true.

Perform. Pretend. Smile on cue. Charm the pack. Hold the center together while everyone else swayed. I was good at it. I didn’t know what I’d be if I stopped.

I didn’t belong in this machine, but I was tied to it, blood-deep.

Lucien smirked, and the moment vanished like it never happened. “Now run along. I’ve got an aromatherapy ritual to finish before our meeting in fifteen minutes.”

I swallowed my questions and walked out of the room with the faint scent of eucalyptus clinging to my shirt.

The air inside the main hall of the Velasquez mansion felt like it was choking me.

Too many wolves in one place. Too many minds. The weight of magic saturated every inch of space and clung to the walls. Sweat. Dominance. Pride. All of it crawled into my nose and settled at the back of my throat. I kept to the edge of the foyer, tracking exits, marking the cleanest path out of the room if things got to be too much. It was habit now. Ritual. One of the few ways I kept from coming apart.

This wasn’t where I wanted to be.

There were about a hundred other things I’d rather be doing. Watching The Sound of Music. Alphabetizing the spice rack. Literally anything that didn’t involve standing in the center of the pack’s political machinery with a fake smile stapled on my face. But duty called. And when Lucien said jump, I jumped. That was the job. That had always been the job.

My alpha. My cousin. My family.

My leash.

I was halfway to claiming a seat along the back row when I heard a woman’s smug, syrupy voice. “Roman.”

I didn’t even have to turn around. My spine knew the shape of her presence before my brain caught up.

Seraphina. My ex.

She drifted up beside me like she’d been waiting for the right moment to pounce. Her hand landed on my arm, fingers too smooth, too familiar. My muscles tensed, and my skin went tight. I didn’t like being touched unexpectedly. Never had. Not even by people I used to kiss.

Especially not her.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she said, the perfume of moonstone oil and expensive desperation curling around her. “Would you like to sit next to me at the meeting?”

I sighed. “I should probably sit with the other pack leaders.”

Her eyes sparkled, her teeth too white and too perfect when she smiled. “You know, if you had me on your arm, you could climb the ranks faster, right? Not to mention, I would climb you, which would be an added bonus.” She said it like a joke, but I knew she wasn’t kidding.

My soul tried to eject from my body.

I didn’t answer. I took a deliberate step away. She got the hint—sort of—and pivoted, her back to me now like I’d become invisible. Her curtain of perfect blonde hair caught the light as she flipped it over her shoulder, just in case anyone wasn’t watching.

Unfortunately, everyone was.