“Yes,” I cut her off, perhaps too sharply. “That’s all. Get back to work.”
She nodded, confusion still evident in her expression, and moved toward the door. I watched her go, my eyes tracking the graceful line of her spine, the way her hair caught the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the office windows. When the door closed behind her with a soft click, I slumped into my chair and buried my face in my hands.
The uncertainty was torture. I’d left the pendant. I was certain of it. Maybe I was grasping at shadows, seeing connections that didn’t exist because I was so desperate to find the woman who’d haunted my dreams.
For five years, I’d been searching for a ghost, for a woman whose face I could barely remember but whose scent, whose touch, whose very essence had been seared into my soul.
The need consumed me, urgent and desperate. I reached for my phone with shaking hands and dialed Lucas’s extension, my heart hammering against my ribs as I waited for him to answer.
“What’s up, Alpha?”
I pulled open my desk drawer and withdrew the small wooden box I’d kept there for the past five years. Inside, nestled in black velvet, was half of a golden wolf pendant -the other half of the one I’d left on pillow that long-ago morning. I’d had it specially made, designed so that the two halves would only fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle.
“I need you to do something for me,” I said, lifting the pendant and watching it catch the light. “I need you to search for something.”
“Search for what? I can’t see what you’re talking about over the phone.”
“Come to my office. Now.”
Within minutes, Lucas appeared in my doorway, his sandy hair slightly disheveled and his expression curious. I held out the pendant, watching his eyebrows rise as he took in the intricate craftsmanship.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, settling into the chair across from my desk. “But I’m not following. Search for what, exactly?”
“The other half,” I said simply. “I need you to find the matching piece.”
Lucas studied the pendant more closely, turning it over in his palm. “This looks like custom work. Expensive. One of a kind.” He looked up at me with growing understanding. “This is about that woman from five years ago, isn’t it?”
I nodded, my jaw tight. “I left the other half with her. I need to know what happened to it.”
“Damien.” Lucas’s voice carried the patient tone he used when he thought I was being unreasonable. “We already searched for her five years ago. We checked every hotel registry, every guest list, every -“
“I know what we did,” I cut him off. “And I know we didn’t find her. But this time is different.”
“Different how?”
I met his gaze steadily. “This time, I want you to expand the search. Pawn shops, jewelry stores, antique dealers, online auction sites. Anywhere someone might sell or trade a piece like this.”
Lucas was quiet for a long moment, studying my face. “You think she’s here, don’t you?”
“I don’t care about the cost,” I said. “I just want that pendant found.”
Lucas was quiet for another moment, then pocketed the pendant with a nod. “Alright. I’ll start making calls tonight. But Damien… can I ask why this is so important now? After all this time?”
“Because,” I said quietly, “I think I’m closer to finding her than I’ve ever been before.”
Damien’s POV
The past few days had been absolute torture. Every morning, I’d called Lucas before my coffee had finished brewing. Every lunch break, I’d summoned him to my office with increasingly desperate demands for updates. Every evening, I’d texted him the same question: *Any news?*
The answer was always the same infuriating response: *Still searching. These things take time.*
Meanwhile, Sera worked at her desk just outside my office, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside me. She’d settled into her role with impressive efficiency, anticipating my needs before I voiced them, managing my impossible schedule with grace that would have impressed even Claire. But every time she leaned over to place documents on my desk, every time her vanilla and jasmine scent wafted toward me, Alex would snarl with barely contained hunger.
*Claim her,* my wolf demanded for the hundredth time that day. *She’s ours. Stop this foolish waiting.*
But I couldn’t. Not until I knew for certain. Not until I had proof that she was the woman who’d haunted my dreams for five years.
Today had been particularly brutal. Sera had worn a fitted black dress that hugged every curve, and when she’d bent to retrieve a dropped file, the sight of her perfect ass had nearly made me lose all control. I’d spent the afternoon with my hands clenched into fists, fighting the urge to pull her into my office and finish what we should do.
By five o’clock, I was wound tighter than a spring ready to snap.
“Alpha,” Lucas’s voice crackled through the intercom for what had to be the tenth time that day.
“Tell me you have something,” I growled, not looking up from the quarterly reports I’d been staring at without actually reading for the past hour.
“I have twenty-three pawn shops still to check, forty-seven jewelry stores, and a list of online auction sites that would make your head spin.” His voice carried the particular tone of someone whose patience was wearing thin. “For the love of the Moon Goddess, Damien, I’ll call you the moment I find anything. Asking me every hour isn’t going to make it happen faster.”
I hung up without responding and slammed my palm against the desk hard enough to make my coffee cup jump. The sharp sound echoed through my office, and I saw Sera’s head turn toward my door through the glass partition. Her emerald eyes met mine for a brief moment, concern flickering across her features, before she quickly looked away.
This was insane. I was behaving like a love-struck teenager instead of a powerful Alpha who commanded respect from wolves across my territories. But the uncertainty was eating me alive. Every night, I lay awake imagining what it would mean if Sera truly was my mystery woman. Every morning, I convinced myself I was chasing shadows.
*You’re driving yourself crazy,* Alex observed with uncharacteristic gentleness. *And you’re making everyone around you miserable in the process.*
He wasn’t wrong. I’d snapped at three department heads this morning, reduced my secretary to near tears over a minor scheduling conflict, and growled at the building’s security guard for having the audacity to greet me with his usual cheerful “Good morning, Alpha.”
I stood abruptly, grabbing my suit jacket from the back of my chair. “I’m going out,” I announced to the empty office, not caring that Sera couldn’t actually hear me through the soundproof glass.
I strode past her desk without making eye contact, afraid that if I looked into those emerald eyes for more than a second, I’d do something spectacularly unprofessional. Like pin her against the wall.
“Good night, Mr. Nightshadow,” she called softly as I passed, her voice carrying that particular note of concern that made my chest tighten.
I paused at the elevator, my finger hovering over the call button, every instinct screaming at me to turn around and go back to her. Instead, I stepped into the elevator and let the doors close between us.
Twenty minutes later, I was seated at the bar of *Moonlight & Shadows*, the upscale establishment where Silver Moon Harbor’s supernatural elite went to drink expensive whiskey and pretend their lives weren’t infinitely more complicated than their human counterparts’. The bar was dimly lit, all mahogany and brass fixtures, with enough ambient noise to drown out the restless pacing of my thoughts.
“The usual, Alpha?” The bartender had been working here for years. He knew better than to make small talk when I was in this particular mood.
“Make it a double,” I said, loosening my tie and trying to force my shoulders to relax.
The whiskey burned pleasantly down my throat, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiled in my chest. I was contemplating ordering a third drink when a commotion near the bar’s entrance caught my attention.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t just demand to see someone without an appointment,” the hostess was saying, her voice strained with the particular politeness of service workers dealing with difficult customers.
“You don’t understand!” The voice was female, shrill with desperation and just loud enough to carry over the ambient conversation. “I need to speak with Alpha Nightshadow! I have something that belongs to him!”
Every muscle in my body went rigid. I turned slowly on my barstool, following the sound of the voice to its source.
Standing near the entrance was a woman. Her blonde hair was brassy and over-processed. She wore a tight red dress that had probably been expensive once but now looked cheap under the bar’s harsh lighting.
But it was what she was holding that made my blood turn to ice.
Clutched in her perfectly manicured fingers was a golden wolf pendant, catching the light as she waved it frantically at the hostess.
“I’m his lover!” she was saying, her voice rising to a pitch that made several nearby patrons turn to stare. “This is his pendant! He gave it to me five years ago! I have proof of our relationship!”
Seraphina’s POV
The blessing of an impossibly busy Friday was that it left no room for my mind to wander into dangerous territory. Every time my thoughts tried to drift toward Damien -toward the way his hand had felt wrapped around my wrist, toward the questions in his eyes that I couldn’t quite decipher -another crisis would demand my immediate attention.
By lunch, I’d fielded seventeen phone calls, rescheduled eight meetings, and consumed enough coffee to power a small city.
It was exactly what I needed.
Damien, on the other hand, had been in what could only be described as a spectacularly foul mood all day. I’d watched him through the glass partition of his office as he prowled back and forth like a caged predator, his shoulders tense beneath his perfectly tailored suit jacket. His phone conversations had been terse to the point of rudeness, and I’d seen him slam his palm against his desk hard enough to make his coffee cup rattle.
“Professional boundaries,” I’d muttered under my breath, forcing myself to focus on the quarterly budget reports spread across my desk. “He’s your boss, not your responsibility.”
But even as I said it, part of me wanted to march into his office and demand to know what was wrong. The mate bond between us hummed with awareness every time he moved, every time his scent shifted with emotion, every time he looked in my direction with those devastating blue eyes.
By five o’clock, most of the office had emptied out for the weekend. Damien had been the first to leave, grabbing his jacket and striding past my desk without so much as a “good night.” I stayed until well past eight, organizing files and preparing for Monday’s packed schedule.
My phone buzzed with a text from Ophelia: *Picked up Adrian from school. We’re making pizza and watching cartoons. Take your time -we’re having a blast!*
Guilt twisted in my stomach as I typed back a quick thank you. Ophelia had been covering for me constantly since I’d started this job, picking up Adrian when I worked late, babysitting when I had emergency meetings, never once complaining about the inconvenience. She was better to me than my own family had ever been, and I wasn’t sure I could ever repay that kind of loyalty.
“Note to self,” I said aloud to the empty office, “give Ophelia the biggest bonus imaginable as soon as I get my first real paycheck.”
By eight-thirty, I’d finally organized the last of the contract revisions and locked away the sensitive documents in the security cabinet. The executive floor was eerily quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of the building’s ventilation system and the soft click of my heels against the marble floors.
The elevator ride down to the lobby felt shorter than usual, probably because I was the only person in the building still working at this hour. When the doors opened on the ground floor, I expected to find the usual nighttime security guard reading behind his desk and maybe a few late-departing employees heading home.
Instead, I heard voices.
“…arrange something comfortable, preferably close to downtown,” a familiar voice was saying, the deep timbre sending an automatic shiver down my spine. “Cost isn’t an issue. Just make sure it’s available tonight.”
I stepped out of the elevator, my heels clicking softly against the polished marble of the lobby, and froze completely.
Damien stood near the reception desk, his phone pressed to his ear and his free hand running through his dark hair in a gesture of frustration I’d come to recognize. He’d loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, giving him a slightly disheveled appearance that only made him more attractive.
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