Page 64

By the time we arrived at Lucien’s sprawling estate, the late-morning sun had baked the front steps to a dull gold, and the scent of manicured roses and money hung in the air like designer cologne.

We walked in together, arms brushing. Maggie’s scent—citrus and pine—wrapped around me like a tether, and I hated how easily it calmed me.

Lucien’s staff led us to a long table draped in white cloth that was set up on the back terrace. Crystal glasses. Fresh-cut floral centerpieces. Because of course.

Seraphina was already seated at our assigned table, which should have been my first clue that the universe was actively working against me. She looked perfect. I didn’t mean subjectively—like, Roman you’re still bitter and angry. I meant objectively. She was professionally airbrushed perfect. And she wasn’t alone.

A shifter I didn’t recognize was beside her. Young. Smug. The kind of guy who wore loafers with no socks and called himself an entrepreneur.

Maggie and I took our seats, and I immediately felt Seraphina’s eyes on me. She toasted her mimosa with a smirk. “To real love,” she said, sweetly venomous. “Not rushed nonsense.”

I raised my water glass. “To actually knowing your partner before you claim them.”

Maggie didn’t say anything, but her lips twitched.

The conversation meandered into boring pack small talk—border tensions; magical agriculture exports; Lucien’s new commission for a ceremonial cloak made from sustainably sourced silk.

Seraphina’s gaze never left me.

I shifted closer to Maggie and rested my hand on the back of her chair. She leaned into the contact, and the knot in my chest loosened. At least here, in this room, I could still fake it with her and pretend I wasn’t unraveling.

Lucien caught my eye from across the terrace and tipped his chin toward the house.

I excused myself, muttering something about needing air, and followed him to the study. He paced the room like he’d downed four espressos in quick succession.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Things are worse than I let on. The border’s under real threat. There’s a rival pack pressing in from the north, and the magical barrier is failing faster than expected. They want my land. My title.”

My mouth went dry. “Shit.”

“If word gets out about the barrier failing, we’re vulnerable. For the first time in hundreds of years, this place isn’t protected. We’re basically begging for a takeover.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “So, the mating stuff... it’s serious?”

Lucien nodded. “Exactly. The old magic is tied to our bonds, both as a pack and within it. Strength in unity. More bonded pairs mean more stability, more grounding energy.”

I swallowed hard.

He held up a hand. “I’m telling you this because I trust you. And because I see big things in your future.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Of course, Roman. You’re loyal and respected. The pack notices. I want to start pulling you into leadership conversations. But first...” He trailed off, then said, “I need you to bond with Maggie. As soon as possible.”

I almost choked. “What?”

“It’s not ideal, but it’s urgent. We need that magical boost. Our familial blood, the alpha line, is tied to the magic stronger than others. Will that be a problem?”

I nodded too quickly. “No. No problem. I appreciate your faith in me.”

Lucien clapped me on the shoulder and left me there, staring at the wall.

No problem?

I was so fucked.

By the time I made it back to the table, I could already tell something was wrong.