Alexander's POV:

I jolted awake, heart racing, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom.

Sweat drenched my forehead, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. My mind clung to the fading remnants of the dream I just had, it felt so real that it left a deep ache in my chest.

Tears welled in my eyes. I sat up, pressing the heels of my palms against my face, trying to force the images away.

But they refused to leave.

Namara.

Damien.

Her lifeless body crumpled on the ground, blood pooling beneath her as Damien stood over her with a wide smirk.

And me—I was the coward who couldn’t live without her.

The one who ended it all with a silver dagger plunged into my heart. I ran my hands through my hair, gripping it tightly, as if that could anchor me to the present.

The dream had shaken me to my core. It wasn’t just a nightmare; it felt like a premonition, a warning of something I couldn’t ignore.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood, pacing the room in restless circles.

My thoughts churned like a storm. I need to see her. I didn’t know why, but I need to.

Namara has always been the center of my world, even before I realized what she meant to me.

Growing up, she was the light in my darkest days. Especially after my father, Beta Haven, died.

Her father, Alpha Lucas, retired soon after, and I thought maybe... just maybe... I could be the one to stand by her side, to protect her, to love her.

But then he arrived.

Damien.

A stranger who came out of nowhere, claiming to be her Mate.

I never believed him—not completely.

Namara’s Wolf, Lily, had always been dormant, so she couldn’t confirm or deny the bond.

But Damien claimed his own Wolf had called out to her, that he couldn’t sleep or eat until he marked her as his.

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening as I remembered the smug confidence Damien exuded.

He wormed his way into Namara’s heart while I stood on the sidelines, powerless to do anything but watch.

And yet... something about him never sat right with me.

He said that he'd known my father, that he claimed that he was one of the orphans my father sponsored abroad.

But I never saw him before my father's funeral.

None of us had. I stopped pacing, staring out of the window as the first rays of dawn lit up the horizon.

The dream, the memories, everything about today felt off.

And then there was Namara. She came to me—she came to me—just hours ago, hugging me as though the years between us hadn’t stretched thin.

She begged me to attend her coronation, her wide eyes shimmering with hope.

How could I deny her? Even when I told myself I should, that I was done trying to chase something I can never have, the truth remained.

I loved her. I always had. With a deep breath, I turned toward the closet.

If I was going, I wasn’t going to look like the broken man I felt inside.

I would give her the respect she deserved, even if it was killing me to see her stand beside Damien.

Pulling out my clothes, I chose an all-black attire—a silk black shirt, tailored black pants, a trench coat that hung perfectly on my broad shoulders, black socks, and a pair of polished leather shoes.

The outfit was commanding, and exactly what I needed to remind myself that I was still Alexander Fargo, even if my heart felt fractured.

I grabbed my cologne—Creed Aventus.

The sharp yet smooth scent filled the room as I sprayed it lightly across my neck and wrists.

By the time I was done, I looked like the man I once was—confident, poised, and untouchable.

But my Wolf, Andal, stirred uneasily within me.

She needs us, he whispered.

His voice was quieter than usual, as if even he was unsure of what the hell was going on.

“Let’s go,” I muttered under my breath, grabbing my keys.

The red sports car roared to life, as I drove toward the Packhouse.

What will I say to her?

What will I do if I saw Damien?

By the time I arrived, the Packhouse was buzzing with people.

Cars lined the driveway, guests pouring into the grand hall dressed in their finest. I stepped out of my car, handing the keys to the Valet, who nodded and moved to park it.

The doormen greeted me with polite bows, their gazes flicking briefly to my face before they pushed open the double doors.

As I stepped inside, eyes turned toward me, whispers following me in each step. I ignored them all, my focus narrowing to one singular figure in the room.

Namara.

She stood at the far end of the hall, dressed in cream.

The gown hugged her curves in all the right places, the soft fabric shimmering under the chandeliers.

Her dark hair cascaded down her back, and her lips curved in a soft smile as she spoke to someone I couldn’t see.

My chest tightened painfully, and Andal growled low in my mind.

Ours, he rumbled.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away as I began to approach her. But the closer I got, the more restless Andal became.

“Danger.” He whispered urgently. “Run!”

The warning sent a shiver down my spine, my steps faltering for the briefest moment. I looked around, scanning the room for any sign of threat, but everything seemed normal.

Laughter and chatter filled the air, and yet... Something was wrong.

Namara turned then, her gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, the world faded away.

It was just her, just us, and the pull between us that I couldn’t explain.

But Andal’s voice cut through once more.

“Run!”

In which direction was I supposed to run to? Towards Namara? Or away from her?