Viviana POV

I didn’t hate pink. In fact, I could even say I liked it.

But this pink helmet? It was blatantly not Nolan’s.

Suddenly, I recalled the pink gift box Nolan had brought home last night.

“It looks good,” I murmured.

The furrows in Nolan's brow eased up. Actually, his gaze was also piercing and unyielding. There were times I felt a sliver of fear toward him when seeing the stark, chilling detachment in those icy blue eyes. It was as though no one had ever truly reached the depths of his emotions.

Yet, I was really dependent on him. Honestly, when it came to fear—sure, I was scared of facing a wolf stronger than me—but what scared me more was the thought of him ditching me, leaving me all alone in the Bruno Pack.

The motorcycle roared to life underneath us, the engine’s hum a low growl that thrummed through my chest. Streets blurred into streaks of motion; trees swept past like restless shadows in the wind.

Clinging to the hem of his jacket, I leaned into Nolan’s back, half my body canted toward him.

As long as I held onto him, the wind would carry off my pain, instead of me.

***

The Bruno pack had its own enterprises, but Nolan had refused to remain tethered. He had forged his own path.

In just a few short years, his architectural firm, Vino Designs, had become the top player in H City.

Nolan was smart, skilled, and had some serious strength and agility. Among wolves, he was extraordinary.

And so, it was no surprise that many she-wolves vied for his attention. Some of them would even be glad to sleep with him, claiming he could bail on those hookups anytime he wanted.

But Nolan had shown no interest, not in any of them.

The motorcycle had barely come to a stop when I saw a she-wolf wagging her tail as she made her way toward us.

At that moment, she was wearing a flowery long dress and a straw hat like a human. With her makeup done perfectly, she could've easily blended in with those beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed women straight out of a movie.

I didn’t know her name. But the overwhelming pink vibes she had on made me immediately think of the pink gift box from yesterday.

Oh my God, and how could I forget about the pink helmet on the motorcycle?

She was beautiful, though I wished I could deny it.

Her dimpled smile beamed like a sunflower lifting its face to the sun, vibrant and full of life.

She had the air of someone untouched by hardship, unlike me—a glowering joke among wolves who found my awkwardness endlessly amusing.

Her glow filled me with both envy and yearning.

But let there be no mistake: I would not yield Nolan to her. Not to anyone.

“Good morning, Lan,” she greeted us. No, in fact, she just said hello to Nolan as she barely spared me a glance.

Even her casual use of his nickname grated at me—it spoke to an intimacy that surpassed all the invisible strings that tied me to him.

In a fit of anger, I ripped off the helmet with more force than necessary. The motion disheveled my short hair further, and loose, unruly strands swept messily across my face.

Irritated, I shoved them behind my ears, though it was not easy to do that.

It was only then, as though she had just noticed me, that she gasped faintly and placed her fingers over her lips in delicate surprise. “Oh, who is she? Wait, no—how could I ask that? She’s your sister, right?”

Nolan turned then, casting a calm, unreadable glance in my direction. Maybe it was jealousy. Or maybe it was something else. But when he opened his mouth to reply, I cut him off, my voice an automatic burst of defiance.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

My denial collided awkwardly with his measured sound of agreement. My words were rushed, and impulsive, while his were steady as stone.

The contrast between us only made me feel more foolish.

We both knew, of course, we had different surnames, and we weren’t siblings.

The she-wolf chuckled. Her composure and ease only amplified my disquiet.

“Viviana,” Nolan introduced me gently, his tone neutral. Then, turning his gaze back to her, he added, “Jane Nelson.”

“Your sister is adorable,” Jane remarked. “And she's beautiful, like a porcelain doll.”

Her compliments didn’t give me any joy. She tilted her head, smiling brightly and sweetly at Nolan the whole time.

“She has such special eyes. It's such a rare green, soft and defenseless. A wolf like her could easily be bullied by others.”

Someone else had once told me my eyes were special.

My dad—well, my biological dad, Sam—said my eyes were round and big. He told me that when I run into bad guys, I should squint and make myself look harder and sharper.

“Nolan takes good care of me,” I replied, emphasizing the familiarity between Nolan and me.

I didn’t want him to think I was unfriendly toward Jane, so I was trying my best to be all cheerful and friendly.

“You’re bright and cheerful,” I added, forcing myself to sound sincere. “I like you.”

“For real?” Jane suddenly jerked her attention toward Nolan, her eyes becoming enigmatic.