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Chapter 4

Ethan's POV

The antique shop's bell chimed as I pushed open the heavy wooden door, unleashing a wave of musty air thick with history. Afternoon sunlight filtered through grimy windows, catching dust motes that danced like falling stars. My wolf, usually a steady presence beneath my skin, surged forward as my eyes landed on the glass display case.

There it was. My heart stuttered in my chest. The silver moonlight pendant – an exact match to the one I'd left behind that night. The weight of those six years pressed down on me – countless dead ends, endless searches, the constant pull toward a woman who'd haunted my dreams. Each morning I'd wake with the ghost of her scent in my nostrils, that ethereal mixture of moonlight and mystery that had carved itself into my soul.

"Beautiful piece, isn't it?" The elderly shopkeeper shuffled forward, adjusting wire-rimmed glasses that magnified his rheumy eyes. "Came in about three months ago. The young lady seemed quite eager to part with it, if you ask me. Almost too eager, considering its obvious value."

I forced my voice to remain steady, though my wolf clawed at my restraint. "The seller. I need her information."

Twenty minutes and a generous "donation" later, I sat in my Range Rover, staring at the name and address David had verified: Emma Laurent. Currently employed as a liaison for the Werewolf Alliance training program. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel until the leather creaked in protest. After years of false leads and disappointments, this seemed almost too perfect – like a gift wrapped in warning signs.

The drive to Emma's apartment complex gave me time to wrestle with my churning thoughts. My wolf Felix paced restlessly beneath my skin, sensing how close we were to answers about that night. The memory was still vivid, untouched by time – that haunting scent like moonlight on fresh snow, the way she'd felt perfect in my arms.

Emma's building was upscale but not ostentatious, the kind of place a successful professional might choose to project the right image. As I approached her door, my enhanced hearing picked up the sudden spike in her heartbeat, the sharp intake of breath that preceded her answer to my knock.

The door opened to reveal a petite blonde woman. Her eyes widened as they traveled up my frame, lingering on my face before recognition dawned in her expression.

"I'm Ethan Blackwood, heir to the Shadow Fang pack," I stated, my voice carrying the natural authority of my position. "The silver wolf pendant you sold to Mason's Antiques – where did you get it, and why did you sell it?"

"Alpha heir," she gasped, dropping into a hasty bow. Her voice trembled. "I... I never thought... Please, come in. I can explain everything."

Her apartment was meticulously arranged, too perfect, like a stage set. Emma perched on the edge of her sofa, hands clasped in her lap, the picture of vulnerability. I remained standing, watching her with predatory focus.

"That pendant..." she began, her lower lip quivering. "I've kept it safe for six years, hoping someday someone would come looking for it. Hoping you would come." She glanced up at me through wet lashes. "That night at Mountain View Resort – I never forgot it. But times have been hard lately, and I... I had no choice but to sell it."

My wolf surged against my control. The woman from that night had carried a scent I could never forget – subtle yet intoxicating, like something from another world. Emma's scent was... ordinary.

"I have proof," she continued, reaching for an ornate wooden box. Her hands trembled as she spread several photographs across the glass surface. "See? This was from that night. I took these pictures hoping... hoping someday I could prove it wasn't just a dream."

The photos showed the resort's exterior, the hallway leading to that fateful room. Tangible evidence that she had been there, yet something felt off. My memories might be blurred by alcohol and grief, but certain sensations remained crystal clear.

"You're certain?" I pressed, watching her pulse flutter. "You were the one in room 302?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I know I should have kept the pendant, but I was desperate. The training program doesn't pay much, and I..." She broke off, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she'd produced from nowhere.

"I understand," I said finally, my voice grave. "As heir to Shadow Fang, I have certain obligations. If what you say is true, I'll ensure you're taken care of—"

"Oh, no!" Emma interrupted, alarm flashing across her face. "I never expected... I wouldn't presume to ask anything of you. I just... I just wanted you to know the truth." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and she turned away as if overwhelmed by emotion.I'll rewrite the ending with Ethan being moved by Emma's tears and accepting her story, while still maintaining his underlying doubts.

The reaction was perfect, down to the last glistening tear. I'd never been able to handle a woman's tears, and something in Emma's vulnerable display struck a chord. Perhaps I'd been too suspicious, too caught up in romantic notions of destiny and perfect matches. The evidence was right in front of me – the pendant, the photos, her intimate knowledge of that night.

"I'm sorry," I found myself saying, the words coming unbidden. "I should have tried harder to find you sooner."

A sob escaped her, and suddenly she was pressed against my chest, her tears soaking into my shirt. "I was so afraid you'd hate me for selling the pendant," she whispered. "But I had no choice..."

I wrapped my arms around her, a little bit awkward, trying to ignore how wrong this felt. Her scent, her size, the way she fit against me – everything was different from my expectations and my memories. But memories could be treacherous things, distorted by time and alcohol and grief.

Felix still paced restlessly, but I pushed its protests aside. Whatever my instincts might say, I had a duty to make this right.

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