All through the night, a storm brewed inside me. My despair morphed into a sharp, cutting edge.

My hands, guided by an ancient, instinctual knowledge, moved across a large piece of cardboard. Lines appeared, then symbols, then a sprawling, intricate map. The map to Alpha Arcturus’ wolf. A wolf legendary for its raw power, a force of nature, a mirror to Jax's formidable beast.

Sleep and heartache suddenly became a forgotten concept, replaced by the sudden sense of professionalism.

I defined my position, service to Ironclaws, and not to Kaelen’s bed.

In the morning, a soft knock reverberated through the quiet of dawn. My head shot up. I opened the door. Kaelen.

"Good morning, Lyra."

"Morning," I replied and closed the door immediately.

He knocked again.

I opened.

"Breakfast is ready."

"I'll join later," I called out and closed the door again, tighter this time.

Another knock. Persistent.

I opened.

"I can see ink spots on your face. What are you doing?" he asked.

“I was working.” I was about to close the door again but his strong hands held it.

“I know you saw me yesterday,” he said.

My cheeks burned. The confession, unexpected and direct, sent a flush creeping up my neck. I spun around and heard his footsteps in the room.

My heart hammered. What happened to the professional ethics? I was suddenly down for anything the moment he stepped into my room.

He knew. He saw.

The notion that he might be hitting on me, despite the clear evidence of his actions, made my stomach churn with a strange mix of embarrassment and a perverse thrill.

"Lyra? I'm sorry. Truly."

But why? Why is he sorry? We're not a thing, yet. I turned to face him. He stood there, his golden eyes filled with something akin to regret. His jaw, strong and sharp, was relaxed.

My gaze drifted from his eyes to his lips, then back. The boy wasn't at fault, not really. What I saw yesterday wasn't a secret. Yet, a bitter taste lingered in my mouth, the sharp tang of jealousy.

"It was the chief cheerleader," he explained, his voice low. "She’s… a member of the pack. One of the few female wolves we have left." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "It was just… a moment. Nothing more."

I nodded. “It's okay.”

“See you on the field,” he said and left.

I locked the door. Not because I disbelieved him, but because the urge to press my lips against his, to erase the lingering image of Seraphina, was too strong. I had to get him off my mind. I was there for a professional purpose, I had to remind myself.

Maids served my breakfast in the room, a tray laden with food I barely touched. I heard the sounds of the team practicing from outside.

I remained cloistered. My fingers traced the intricate lines, confirming calculations, re-checking ancient riddles.

The weight of centuries of knowledge pressed down on me. I was the last. The last Inker. And this was the only way.

Late that night, the mansion finally fell silent. I left my room, the map rolled tight in my hand. I walked to his door, hoping, praying, he'd not be busy as usual.

I knocked.

The door opened. Kaelen stood there, a towel slung low on his hips, his chest bare, still glistening from a late shower.

The sight stole my breath. His eyes, golden pools in the dim light, met mine. "Lyra," he murmured. He stepped forward. "I'm sorry," he repeated, then pulled me into a hug.

Unexpectedly.

My body pressed against his, my braless breasts against his chest. The warmth of his skin suddenly radiated through my clothes.

And then, there it was. His dick, thick and throbbing, pressed against my belly.

My breath hitched. My entire body hummed with an electric current. Was he aroused by our impact? Would he readily get down with me?

He held me in his embrace.

My mind screamed No! My body, however, had other plans. A tremor started deep inside me, spreading outward, a delicious, dangerous heat.

My core tightened, a wellspring of wanting. I wanted to yield. I wanted to sink into him, to taste him, to feel him. But the hard lessons of Marc, Albert, and Jax clawed at the edges of my desire. No more tools. No more being a means to an end.

I pulled back, just enough to create a sliver of space between us, though his arms still held me. "Kaelen, I know how to make you stronger. Stronger than Jax, if not, stronger like him. Stronger like any wolf in this league."

He tilted his head. "Oh?" he said. He released me, but his hands lingered on my waist. "And how, Lyra, would a human do that?"

"I'm not just any human," I countered, my voice gaining strength. "I'm a wolf, but an omega, also an Inker. My family, we know the ancient ways. The maps to the tombs of the alphas of the past. Their essences, they still live there. Waiting." I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. "Jax, Marc, Albert. They're the strongest because I led them to their power."

His eyes widened. "The Inkers? I thought that was just a myth." He took a step back, pulling me with him. "You can truly do this? Make me stronger?"

"Yes, but it's dangerous. It's not just a physical transformation. It's spiritual. It's a risk."

He stared at me, then a slow smile spread across his face. "I told you, Lyra. I'll do anything to win. To make this team what it should be." He released my waist, his expression now serious. "What do we do?"

"Pack light," I instructed, my voice firm. "Extra clothes. No one sees us leave. By dusk, we'll be at the local settlement. Then, we hike. I will get you the wolf.”