Painful memories

Narelle stepped out of the car with firm strides, though her heart wavered between pride and disgust. Rhaek’s mansion, where she had lived for a time in her youth, looked even more imposing now — dark columns, meticulously wild gardens, and that cold façade that seemed to mock her.

The scent of wood, damp earth, and bodies marked by ancient blood came like a gust. She paused at the door for a second. Memories rushed in — silent nights, ignored glances, the touch she never had... and what she desired.

Inside, the atmosphere was more relaxed. Na informal dinner for the shareholders and pack guests. Laughter, toasts, important wolves — and the unmistakable scent of competition.

Kael watched her from afar, lounging with a glass of whiskey. His smile was slow, lazy, as if he already knew she belonged to him. But Rhaek… Rhaek was a cut in time.

When Narelle crossed the room, Rhaek lifted his eyes. Tall, imposing, tie loosened and a gaze that stripped the soul. He didn’t smile. He didn’t have to. He just watched — and she felt her core react as if he had touched her.

The Luna, Rhaek’s current mate, nearly growled at the sight of Narelle. Tall, beautiful, and territorial, she approached with a sharp smile.

“So... as the new shareholder, you need to be at every event? I thought you’d be more... discreet.”

Narelle tilted her head, feigning sweetness.

“Discretion isn’t always effective. Especially with predators. I prefer to stay close — always.”

The response earned a few snickers from those nearby, but the Luna felt the threat. Narelle hadn’t come to mingle. She had come to destabilize.

During dinner, at the table, the conversations flowed with wine and tender meat. Kael, on the other side, played with his glass, paying close attention to Narelle’s every move. Rhaek, however, barely touched his food. His focus was evident.

Narelle smirked subtly as she realized: both men were playing. But with very different rules.

“Do you like the dish?” Rhaek finally asked, his voice low, almost a murmur just for her.

“Not as much as the flavor of the way you looked at me when I walked in,” she replied quietly.

He raised na eyebrow, surprised by her boldness.

“You haven’t changed.”

“I’ve just learned to use my claws better.”

As they savored the delicacies, Narelle felt torn. Kael, with his raw energy, provoked her — ambiguous smiles, slow gestures, eyes that promised control and pleasure in equal measure.

But it was Rhaek’s silence that set her on fire.

While everyone laughed at some joke about corporate mergers, Narelle allowed herself to close her eyes for a second. And there he was. Rhaek. Shirtless. In the old bedroom. The touch that never came, but that she had imagined a thousand times. His 3333, the slow breathing...

She opened her eyes, breathing deeply. The Luna was glaring at her. Kael too. But only Rhaek seemed to understand her without needing to ask.

[...]

After dinner, amid polite smiles and meaningless toasts, Narelle slipped away. No one stopped her. The mansion was far too familiar. The wide corridors, the portraits of ancient alphas, the discreet creak of the floor beneath her heels.

She stopped in front of a door.

Here, years ago, she had learned to wait. To control her desire. To endure abandonment without crying.

She pushed it open slowly. The wood creaked, complicit.

The room was just as she remembered: austere, smelling of leather and hay, dark furniture, a bedspread stretched too tightly over the wide bed. The window overlooked the forest. And on the desk — what she didn’t expect: a bracelet. Braided leather. Hers.

She closed her eyes. One summer. One night she thought he would choose her. Rhaek had looked at her as if she were his. But nothing happened. He left her there, warm, confused, alone.

[...]

She leaned against the door. Her hands trembled. Not from fear — from rage. From unresolved desire.

She remembered how his body seemed to vibrate when he got close. How, once, he held her by the nape and just breathed in deeply, as if the world stopped there. But he didn’t kiss her. Never did.

Out of pride. Repression. Or cowardice?

Narelle clenched the bracelet in her hand. She smiled, bitter.

“You taught me the taste of hunger.”

The door creaked again. She turned sharply.

Kael.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched her like he was already inside her memory.

“I used to imagine you here,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him. “I always knew you were his... but I wanted you anyway.”

Narelle didn’t respond. Didn’t flee. Her eyes were dark, threatening. Kael approached slowly.

“The scent of your body stayed trapped in this room for years. Did you know that?”

She swallowed hard. He walked up to her, but didn’t touch her. He simply enclosed her with his presence.

“And now that you’re back... you seem even more ready to provoke me.”

Kael extended his hand and held the bracelet in her fingers. He didn’t pull it. Just touched her hand with his, warm and firm.

“I can give you what he always denied you.”

Narelle quietly gasped. Kael smiled, as if he’d just won something — or someone.

But she lifted her chin.

“You don’t know what he denied me.”

“Maybe not. But I know what you still want.”

And then he stepped closer — close enough for her to feel his breath, for the heat between their bodies to awaken something more dangerous than longing: true hunger.

[...]

But Narelle stepped back. Smoothly. Without anger. Without provocation. Just control.

“It’s not going to happen here, Kael.”

He just smiled. A cruel, sensual, and perfectly patient smile.

“No. But it will happen.”

She left the room without looking back. The bracelet, however, remained in his fingers.

In the mansion’s back garden, the night was cold. Dark stones wound between wild lavender beds. Narelle followed the path slowly, her heels echoing in steady rhythm. She needed air. She needed to escape the scent of leather, wine, and memories.

That’s when she felt it.

She didn’t see him first — she felt him. Like a dense heat in the still air. That familiar scent, woody, clean, with wild undertones. Rhaek.

He was leaning against one of the stone columns, sleeves rolled up, eyes fixed on the ground. When she approached, he raised his face.

Amber eyes pierced her like they always had.

“Narelle.”

Just that.

She stopped a few steps away. Her heart racing, but her face unreadable.

“Rhaek, I didn’t expect you here.”

There was a tense silence. She noticed he looked more serious, carrying that same wounding magnetism.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again,” he said, voice low, almost hesitant.

“Neither did I expect to return.”

He seemed to want to say something, but didn’t. His eyes, however, said it all. Desire. Guilt. Something between them that was never spoken — and that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing now. She looked down at his hand — and saw his wedding ring.

“You’re still the same, Rhaek. Silent where you should act. Present where you should disappear.”

He frowned slightly. “You’re even more beautiful.”

She gave a cold, half-smile.

“I always was. Good night, Rhaek. It was a lovely dinner.”

And she turned away without another word.

Rhaek remained still, watching her back as she walked away. The sound of he

r footsteps faded into the whispering leaves. But she felt it. Beneath the pride, the anger, and the dominance... there was still something there.