The three men claimed a table near the middle of the diner, their voices carrying in that careless way men had when they thought they owned the space. Eli tried to ignore them, blowing across the surface of her coffee, but her ears betrayed her. Every syllable threaded through the clatter of forks and the low hum of conversation until it hooked into her chest.

“Alpha’s been impossible lately,” one muttered, dropping heavily into his seat. “Running us ragged. Patrols at dawn, drills until we can’t breathe. Like he’s trying to bleed the pack dry.”

A chuckle answered him. “He’s always been like that. Cold. No patience for weakness.”

“No,” the third interrupted, his voice low, sharp. “It’s worse now. Since…” He trailed off, glancing around, then leaned forward. “Since he rejected his mate.”

The first wolf barked a laugh, too loud in the diner’s close air. “Moon Goddess bless her. Whoever she was, she must’ve been trouble. He’s better off without chains.”

Eli’s stomach lurched. Her wolf bristled, pressing claws against her ribs. Heat pricked at her eyes, furious and humiliating all at once.

Whoever she was.

She gripped her mug tighter, the ceramic hot against her palms, grounding and unbearable at the same time.

“You don’t get it,” the second said, shaking his head. “He’s not better. He’s off. Different. It’s like something snapped in him that night. Like he’s empty.”

Empty.

The word carved through her, crueler than the rejection itself. Empty. As if she were nothing more than a misstep in fate’s design, a burden dropped at his feet, easily cast aside.

The third scoffed. “Empty or not, he made the right choice. Mates make Alphas soft. Weak. You know it.”

Eli slammed her mug down before she realized what she was doing. The sharp crack of ceramic on wood echoed, and heads turned. Marla glanced at her, concern etched deep in her lined face, but Eli forced a smile, forced casual. “Too hot,” she muttered, waving her hand like she’d burned it.

The men didn’t notice her. Or if they did, they didn’t care.

Eli pushed to her feet, fishing a crumpled bill from her pocket and tossing it onto the table. She couldn’t breathe here. Not with their voices filling the air, shredding the fragile wall she’d built since last night.

The bell over the door jingled as she shoved it open, sunlight hitting her like a slap. She drew in a sharp breath of air, but it did nothing to cool the fire in her veins. Her wolf snarled, restless, furious, demanding she turn back and bare her teeth.

But Eli kept walking. Boots striking pavement, stride quick and sharp. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Still, the words clung like burrs.

Empty.

Better off.

Whoever she was.

Her throat ached. She blinked hard against the burn in her eyes, but tears didn’t fall. They never did. Not anymore.

And then

A shadow slid across her path.

She froze mid-step.

Because standing at the edge of the street, half in sunlight and half in shade, was Lucien.

Golden eyes locked on hers, steady, unflinching, as if he’d been waiting all along.

Her pulse stuttered. Her wolf surged.

And Eli… Eli bared her teeth in a smile sharp enough to cut.

The world narrowed to the space between them. The noise of the town distant chatter, the roll of a truck down the road, the lazy flap of a banner in the wind dropped into nothing. All Eli could hear was her heartbeat, loud and reckless, and the low hum of her wolf straining against her ribs.

Lucien didn’t move. He just stood there, hands loose at his sides, posture deceptively calm. But there was a storm in his eyes, bright and unyielding, and it caught her breath like a fist to the throat.

Eli swallowed hard, then forced her chin up, sharp and defiant. “Well, if it isn’t the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Something flickered in his gaze, so brief she might have imagined it. His voice, when it came, was smooth as glass. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She barked a laugh, short and bitter. “What, in the middle of town? Last I checked, it wasn’t your kingdom.”

His jaw tightened. “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

“Oh, right,” she said, her smile twisting. “I forgot. The great Alpha doesn’t like having his mistakes parading around in broad daylight. Must be embarrassing, huh?”

The air between them crackled. His shoulders shifted, tension rippling through him like it wanted to break skin.

“You think this is a game?” he said, low and dangerous.

“I think,” Eli snapped, stepping forward until they were only a breath apart, “that you don’t get to decide how I exist. You don’t get to brand me defective one night and pretend I don’t belong in my own damn skin the next.”

Her voice shook, but she refused to back down.

Lucien leaned closer, golden eyes burning into hers. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, enlighten me,” she shot back, sarcasm cutting like glass. “Tell me again how fate screwed up. Tell me how I’m such a burden, such a weakness, that you had to throw me away like—” Her voice cracked before she could stop it. She bit down hard, the words splintering into silence.

Lucien’s nostrils flared. For one wild second, his hand twitched like he might reach for her. Then he stilled, every muscle locking into restraint.

“This isn’t about you,” he said, voice raw beneath the steel. “It never was.”

That hurt worse than anything the wolves in the diner had said.

Eli laughed, sharp and hollow, because the alternative was breaking. “Good to know. Thanks for clearing that up.”

She shoved past him, her shoulder brushing his arm, sparks shooting down her skin at the contact. She hated that her body betrayed her, hated that her wolf whimpered at the loss even as she stormed away.

Lucien didn’t follow. He just stood there, rooted to the pavement, watching her go.

And Eli told herself she was glad.

She told herself she didn’t care.

But her wolf howled inside her, mournful and wild, and the sound echoed long after the streets of Grayridge swallowed her up.

That night, sleep came like drowning.

One moment Eli was curled tight on her thin mattress, jaw clenched against the ache in her chest, and the next she was falling through shadows, through heat, through something that wasn’t entirely her own.

When she landed, it wasn’t in her bedroom.

It was in a forest. Moonlight spilled silver over the clearing, painting the grass like frost. The air pulsed with energy, alive with the thrum of something ancient. Her wolf stirred, stretching beneath her skin as if this place belonged to it.

And then she saw him.

Lucien.

Standing at the edge of the clearing, chest bare, eyes molten gold in the dark. His breath fogged the night air, ragged and uneven, as if he’d been running or resisting.

Eli’s pulse kicked. “Not again.”

Because this wasn’t the first time. These dreamscapes had started weeks ago, creeping in uninvited. But never like this. Never so sharp, so real, every detail so vivid she swore she could taste the pine and smoke clinging to his skin.

Lucien’s gaze devoured her. He didn’t speak. He just crossed the space between them in a blur, like gravity itself had lost patience. His hand caught her wrist, warm and unyielding, and the bond roared awake sparks racing through her veins, her wolf keening in fierce recognition.

Eli gasped, torn between fury and need. “Let go.”

His mouth curved, bitter and desperate all at once. “I can’t.”

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was wildfire hot, consuming, a collision of teeth and tongues and years of denial snapping into flame. She clutched his shoulders, nails digging into skin she had no business craving, and he groaned like the sound of it hurt him.

The world tilted. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and Eli’s body betrayed her, arching, pressing closer. Heat coiled low in her belly, sharp and intoxicating, and her wolf howled approval she wanted to deny but couldn’t.

Lucien broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her throat, each brush of his mouth setting her alight. “Do you feel it?” he murmured, voice wrecked. “Tell me you don’t. Tell me you can ignore this.”

Eli’s breath caught, words tangled between defiance and surrender. “You don’t get to—” Her protest died as his teeth grazed the hollow of her neck. Her knees nearly buckled.

The clearing spun into firelight and shadow. They fell back onto the soft grass, his weight braced above hers, his mouth returning to hers with a hunger that bordered on breaking. She kissed him back like she hated him for it, like she hated herself even more.

Fingers skimmed skin, hearts hammered out of rhythm, and for a dangerous heartbeat, the world narrowed to the edge of something neither of them could take back.

Eli’s wolf screamed mine.

Her human heart screamed no.

And just as heat threatened to drag them over that line everything shattered.

The dream splintered, the forest dissolving into darkness. Lucien’s warmth disappeared, ripped from her skin like a cruel joke.

Eli woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat, sheets tangled around her legs. Her lips still burned. Her heart still raced.

And no matter how fiercely she told herself it wasn’t real… her wolf whispered otherwise.

Lucien’s POV

Lucien jolted upright in his bed, chest heaving, sweat slicking his skin despite the cool bite of night air seeping through the open window.

The dream clung to him. No not a dream. It had been more than that. Her taste was still on his tongue, sweet and furious, her body still pressed against his like temptation carved into flesh.

Eli.

His mate.

The woman he had rejected.

Lucien dragged both hands down his face, trying to smother the ache tearing through him. The bond hadn’t loosened its grip. If anything, denying it had only wound it tighter, choking him every time she slipped into his thoughts every time his wolf clawed at him for what it had been denied.

And now this. A shared dream so vivid he could still feel the imprint of her nails in his skin.

“Damn it.” The word tore from him like a growl, low and raw. He shoved to his feet, pacing the length of his room like a caged animal. His wolf prowled just beneath the surface, restless, demanding. Go to her. Claim her. Now.

Lucien clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. “No.”

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. To claim her would destroy her. He’d made that choice once, and he had to live with it even if it meant waking in the dark with her kiss still burning through him, knowing he’d never taste it again outside of dreams.

But his heart traitorous, relentless beat her name with every thud.

And his wolf whispered the truth he was too stubborn to admit.

He could deny her all he wanted.

But the bond wasn’t done with either of them.