His reputation was ironclad, his dominance undisputed. Every wolf alive knew his name, whether it was because they respected him or despised him.
And though his presence would no doubt ignite tension, perhaps that was exactly what the LST required.
Formidable. Impartial. Untouchable.
Except to me.
And to her.
My lips curved faintly, although I felt no amusement. Fate was cruel, weaving us into complicated knots.
To put Kieran in that arena was to place him a step away from Seraphina-closer than I would ever allow under ordinary circumstances.
But this wasn’t about my personal war. This was about OTS. About the legacy Zara had dreamed, and the future Sera deserved to shine in.
The staffer’s voice broke into my thoughts again, tentative. “Alpha Reed…what are your orders?”
I rose from my chair slowly, the decision solidifying in my chest like tempered steel.
“I have someone in mind,” I said. “I’ll speak to him myself.”
The staffer opened his mouth-perhaps to question me-but the look I gave him silenced the words on his tongue.
He bowed stiffly and hurried out of my office.
Alone once more, I stood before the broad window that overlooked the training grounds.
Wolves were already gathering below, sparring in the early light, their movements crisp and powerful.
The hum of their energy seeped through the glass, thrumming in my bones.
Yes. It had to be Kieran.
Not because I trusted him. Definitely not because I welcomed him.
But because, on such short notice, he was the only one who could stand as a gate no contender could simply walk through.
And if I hated the thought of him coming even a hundred yards from Sera, I leashed those feelings.
Decisions like these could not be made based on sentiment.
CA 55 C
KIERAN’S POV
As soon as I stepped foot into the OTS headquarters, I realized what a stupid mistake I’d made.
But then again, wasn’t I making a lot of those lately?
When Gavin handed me the phone and told me who was on the line, my first instinct was to laugh it off- maybe even toss the damned thing into my office fire pit.
I had a hard time getting a handle on the kind of man Reed was, but from my experience, he wasn’t the type who sought others out-or at least, me-unless there was a calculation behind it.
And I was sure, this meeting request from him wasn’t courtesy-it was strategy.
And, of course, there was a chance that it was just plain old provocation.
The LST was already making waves across the entire werewolf world-and my ex-wife was at the center of it all.
Seraphina, once overlooked and hidden, was now shining under the spotlight as Lucian Reed’s star trainee.
The image of her at the gala still clawed at me at the most inopportune times-the way she’d stood beside him, luminous in her gown, her chin tilted high enough to tell the world she wasn’t afraid anymore.
More than her beauty and fierce confidence, what really gutted me was the way she looked like she belonged there-next to him.
It seemed that she had made her choice and was sticking firmly to it. And she’d chosen him.
I should have hung up. I nearly did-my thumb hovered over the disconnect button, pulse pounding.
But then…I didn’t.
Because wouldn’t that be declaring that Lucian had some kind of hold over me?
Maybe curiosity, maybe pride-most likely both-forced me to accept.
The meeting location he proposed was the OTS Arena itself.
In the hours before our meeting, I’d struggled to find his angle and come up empty.
As soon as I noticed he was becoming something of a fixture in Sera’s life, I’d had Gavin investigate his background-more than once.
But every report came back spotless-no illicit trades, no political missteps, no exploitable weaknesses. It was almost too perfect, as if he curated what people were allowed to see.
And that was enough to make me suspicious.
How had he built his empire so quietly and steadily? What were his plans now that he was stepping into the light?
I had no answers for my countless, gnawing questions. So all I could do was watch patiently, waiting for inevitable cracks in his flawless facade to show.
And what better way to monitor him than on his turf?
***
The OTS Arena rose before me like some ancient coliseum reborn, its edges gleaming in the morning sun, shadows slicing across its structure.
The closer I came, the more I had to admit-reluctantly-that no secondhand account had done it justice.
This place wasn’t just built; it was forged. Every stone screamed permanence, every curve of the stands bent toward spectacle, every shimmer of protective wards along the perimeter promised something both brutal and glorious.
Lucian was already there, of course, waiting for me like he owned not just the Arena, but the very air itself.
His posture was easy and controlled, his hands clasped behind his back. The way his scrutinizing gaze washed over me made me bristle.
“Alpha Blackthorne,” he greeted, his low voice calm-to the point that it was unsettling.
“Cut the pleasantries, Reed,” I said, stepping onto the sand of the Arena floor.
The grit shifted beneath my boots, and I couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like when soaked with blood. “Why did you ask me here?”
His mouth curved slightly in the barest suggestion of a smile as he swept his arm around us. “You don’t find it impressive?”
I swept my gaze across the vastness of the place, the tiered seating that seemed to swallow the horizon, the wards that shimmered faintly like heat mirages.
It was impressive. But I’d be damned before I admitted it aloud.
“You didn’t summon me here just to give me a tour of your playground,” I hissed. “What. Do. You. Want?”
He turned his head, studying the light as it fell over the pillars that jutted from the ground.
His silence stretched long enough to irritate me, until finally he asked, almost idly, “Do you expect to witness her transformation here?”
My chest constricted. I didn’t need him to say her name-I knew exactly who he meant.
Rage and regret battled in me as the memory of the gala returned in vivid detail.
Seraphina’s laughter spilling out, bright and bittersweet, her hand resting on his arm as if it belonged there.
The pride blazing in her eyes-for him. Never me.
Realization hit me like a sucker punch.
Lucian Reed hadn’t called me here for business. The fucker called me here to gloat.
“You bastard,” I hissed, spinning on my heel. “You dragged me all the way here to what? Rub it in my face?”
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