Kael had not slept.
He was in his office—the one at the apex of King's Corporation, not the hidden command center beneath the Hearthlands.
He hadn't changed from his crumpled, bespoke suit since the court hearing yesterday, and his glacial blue eyes were rimmed with a dangerous, sleepless fatigue.
The evacuation order had been the final, fatal blow. Malik, the man who had murdered Kael's father and destroyed his life, was about to expose the entire Wolfbound Pack to the human world. And he had been powerless to stop it.
Then, three hours ago, he received the terse, stunning email from Ms. Davies: Motion rescinded. Inspection order withdrawn. Urgent meeting required.
"Withdrawn?" He thought
He knows that's highly unlikely, unless Malik is trying to play games with him. The relief that should have been a tidal wave was instead a sharp, paralyzing fear. They should have lost. He had lost. He knew Davies was outmatched by Malik's corporate ghosting and historical claim. The victory felt less like salvation and more like a cruel trick played by fate.
Ms. Davies arrived, breathless, her professional poise slightly ruffled. Kael didn't offer her a seat.
"Explain," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
Davies swallowed, presenting a digital copy of the court filing. "Malik was stopped, Alpha. His historical claim was contingent on the land use being a contradiction to the 1845 Charter. We found a critical addendum, dated 1847, that creates a loophole. It exempts the land from the 'population containment clause' if the titleholder can trace their lineage to the original signatories—the 'Keepers Bloodline,' who were hereditary protectors."
Kael leaned against his desk, "And what does that have to do with King's Corporation?"
"It doesn't. But the discovery invalidates the premise of Malik's claim. The judge ruled the historical argument was now too weak to justify immediate seizure, pending further investigation into the 'Keeper' lineage. It bought us time, Alpha. A lot of time, enough to find anything that proves you are related to the Keepers of Hearthlands" Ms. Davies explained
"Am I?" Kael questioned. This is the first time he's hearing of Secret Keepers of Hearthlands
"I don't know but the Wolfbound Pack has been in existence for almost a thousand years, there's the possibility they have an agreement with the Keepers" Ms. Davies blurted out. She was so excited, the urge to laugh almost choked the words in her throat
Kael's gaze was fixed, unblinking. "Who found this addendum? Davies, that is archived historical law. It would take weeks, months of dedicated, specialized research."
Davies shifted uncomfortably. "It was sent to me anonymously, Alpha. Just a quick email with high-resolution photos of the annex and a brief explanation of its legal implications. The source claimed the documents were recovered from a private, secure archive."
A private, secure archive.
Kael's mind, sharp even when exhausted, instantly connected the threads. Malik didn't keep his critical secrets on digital servers. He kept them in his home archive, the one he thought was impenetrable. And who was the one person who had been inside that home last night? Who was the only person with the motive, the proximity, and the raw corporate and legal intelligence to understand the threat and find the countermeasure?
A single name roared through his skull, showing the exhaustion, the fear, and the rage.
Anya.
He had humiliated her. He had demoted her, threatened her, and violently rejected their bond. He had snarled that her lineage was rotten and that she had no place in the Pack. And in the middle of the night, while he was lost to despair, she had walked into the mouth of the dragon—her own father's house—and pulled out the key that saved every single Wolfbound life.
A white-hot wave of shame and self-hatred hit him, the irony was a suffocating weight: the daughter of the traitor had just committed the ultimate act of loyalty, saving the Pack her mother had died for.
"Get out," Kael snarled at Davies. His voice was too rough, too close to a growl. "I will handle the corporate response. Do not speak of the source. Do not speak of this addendum again. Just move to counter the second filing."
Davies fled, the door clicking shut behind her. Kael stood alone, fighting for breath. His knuckles were white against the desk. He felt the terrifying, irresistible shift of emotion within him: the cold, controlled rage that normally fueled him was dissolving, replaced by a devastating, vulnerable mixture of gratitude and guilt.
This was worse than losing. Losing meant he was weak. Winning, because of her, meant he was indebted, and obligation was a poison to his rigid control.
The elevator chimed, announcing a new arrival. Kael spun around, his eyes flashing gold, ready to tear apart anyone who dared trespass.
It was Anya.
She looked utterly ravaged. Her suit jacket was wrinkled, her makeup smudged, and the dark circles beneath her eyes were bruised with exhaustion.
She was spent. Vulnerable. And utterly beautiful in her depleted resolve.
"Alpha," she whispered, stopping ten feet away, her voice barely audible. "I... I just returned. I heard the inspection was cancelled."
Kael didn't move. He just stared at the exhaustion in her eyes, the stain of tears she had shed for her mother, and the quiet, terrible strength that had allowed her to betray her father for his Pack.
"You saved us," he stated, the words dry and broken.
Anya's composure shattered. "I didn't do it for you," she spat, her tired eyes blazing. "I did it for my mother. She died for the Hearthlands. I won't let your self-righteousness be the reason her sacrifice means nothing. I did it for the Pack."
She turned, ready to leave for her desk. But Kael couldn't let her leave. The words she had just spoken—I did it for the Pack—were the very words his father had said before he died. They were the words that tore Kael's life apart, and now they were the words that saved it.
The shield Kael had spent years holding, the walls of ice, hatred, and control, crumbled instantly.
His Alpha wolf, which had been silenced by terror, roared a triumphant sound that was purely possessive.
Claim.
Kael moved with a speed Anya couldn't track. He slammed the door shut with a sonic boom, cutting off any chance of interruption. He closed the space between them in two massive strides, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her against him before she could register a protest.
His mouth crashed onto hers, fierce and hungry, stealing the air from her lungs. Heat rolled off him in waves. His heart hammered against her chest, wild and unrestrained, and every shaky breath he exhaled brushed her lips and cheeks—hot, uneven, desperate—until she felt wrapped in the intensity of him, drowning in the closeness.
Anya was too shocked, too exhausted, too deeply wounded to fight. Her wolf took over and answered Kael's roar with a soft, aching whimper of acceptance.
She yielded instantly, her hands flying up to clutch the shoulders of his suit, pulling him closer, deeper into the frantic, soul-shattering kiss.
Kael's hands raked through her hair, tearing the pins loose as he deepened the kiss. He lifted her easily, pressing her back into the cold glass pane. The wall shuddered faintly behind her as his mouth moved down her neck, his breath hot and uneven against her skin.
"Anya…" His voice was low, strained, his control slipping with every second.
She curled her fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer, her pulse racing against his.
The tension between them snapped.
Without breaking the kiss, Kael tightened his hold around her thighs and lifted her into his arms. He simply turned, crossed the short space between the wall and the far corner, and pushed open the discreet door built directly into the office paneling.
His private master bedroom.
He paused at the threshold, his forehead brushing hers, breath hot and ragged.
"If you want me to stop… just say it," he murmured.
Her answer came in a whisper against his mouth. "Don't."
The door swung shut behind them.
Kael set her down on the bed with aching slowness, his hands never leaving her skin.
His name escaped her lips like a secret, and hers fell from his like a need he'd held back too long.
---
Hours later, Anya stirred, her body warm and tender, the sheets soft beneath her.
Then she realized—
She wasn't in an apartment. Not in a penthouse.
She was in Kael's private master bedroom inside his office.
And everything from the night flashed back in a rush of heat.
She reached across the vast bed. It was empty.
Panic seized her. She threw on Kael's discarded dress shirt, which hung past her knees, and jumped out of the bed.
Kael stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the city lights beginning to bloom in the twilight. He looked immaculate again, his hair neatly combed, dressed in a fresh charcoal-grey shirt and black slacks. He was fully clothed, fully controlled, and utterly unreachable.
He turned slowly when she entered the room, his eyes once again the familiar, terrifying glacial blue. All traces of the gold-eyed, desperate animal that had claimed her were gone.
"You're awake," Kael stated flatly.
"Kael," she started, her voice raspy. "What... what happened?"
"You know what happened, Ms. Malik," he replied, his voice colder than the ice in his eyes. "The bond is sealed. You saved the Pack, and my wolf reacted to the debt. That is all."
Anya gripped the cloth of the shirt, tears welling instantly, not from pain, but from the realization of the cold rejection. "That is all? That was a life bond. We are mates now."
"We are nothing," Kael bit out, taking a slow step toward her, forcing her to hold her ground. "You are the daughter of the traitor who shattered my family. I hate your father, and my pack hates your blood. I will not compromise the Alpha line for a rebellious bloodline."
He stood before her, tall and commanding, the picture of Alpha denial. "You are my mate. That is an undeniable truth. But you will never be my Luna. You will never be accepted by the Wolfbound Pack."
He looked away, disgusted with himself.
"This bond remains a secret," Kael declared, his voice hard as iron. "To the Pack, to the Elders, to every single person in Sterling City, you are still Anya Malik, my personal secretary, the daughter of the rebel. You have no status beyond that, and you will ask for none. If anyone discovers the truth, I will destroy both you and the traitor you call your father. Do you understand?"
The tears dried instantly on Anya's cheeks. She knew she had won the mate, but she had lost the man.
Anya straightened the collar of his borrowed shirt. "I understand, Alpha," she replied, her voice steady and frigid. "The bond is a secret. Your secret. And I will keep it."
Kael flinched, recognizing the precise, accurate strike of her words.
Anya turned her back on him and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door.