CHAPTER 162
Kyle's POV
I could sense my mate's presence in the pack territory, and for a moment, my heart soared with the impossible hope that Lexa had somehow followed me here. The familiar warmth that always filled my chest when she was near seemed to pulse through the bond we shared, making my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin.
But then reality crashed down on me like a cold wave. There was no way Lexa could be here—she was back at Mudiville pack, probably wondering if I would keep my promise to return for her. This had to be just another misunderstanding of my heightened senses, especially since my parents had been pressuring me relentlessly to take another mate from a "suitable" family.
The argument with my mother had left me on edge, my emotions raw and my instincts confused. Maybe I was just so desperate to be with Lexa that my mind was playing tricks on me, making me imagine her scent where it couldn't possibly exist.
I pulled out my phone and called Tyson, needing confirmation that I wasn't losing my mind.
"Kyle," his voice came through clear and strong. "How are things going with your family?"
"Complicated," I said, running a hand through my hair. "Listen, this might sound crazy, but is Lexa around? I could swear I can sense her presence here, but that's impossible."
There was a pause, then Tyson's reassuring voice. "She's here at the pack house. She just went to get something from the kitchen for Zenevieva. You're probably picking up her scent on your clothes or something. The mate bond can be tricky like that."
I felt myself relax slightly, the tension in my shoulders easing. "Yeah, you're probably right. I guess I'm just missing her more than I thought."
"That's normal," Tyson said with what sounded like amusement. "The first separation after finding your mate is always the hardest. Just focus on getting through whatever your parents need from you, then get back here."
After hanging up, I tried to convince myself that Tyson was right—maybe I truly carried her scent around with me now, embedded in my clothes and skin from our night together. The mate bond was known to do strange things to a wolf's senses, especially in the early stages.
I was still trying to shake off the unsettled feeling when my mother appeared in the doorway of my childhood bedroom, her expression carefully neutral in that way that meant she was planning something I wouldn't like.
"Kyle, darling," she said in her sweetest voice, "I have someone I'd like you to meet. She's from the East pack, and her family is very influential in supernatural politics."
Before I could protest, she was ushering a young woman into the room. The stranger was undeniably beautiful in that polished, aristocratic way that high-ranking pack daughters were trained to cultivate from birth. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless, and her dress probably cost more than most people made in a month.
"This is Isabella," my mother continued, her voice filled with forced enthusiasm. "Her father controls the largest territory on the eastern seaboard, and their bloodline can be traced back to the original werewolf clans."
Isabella smiled at me with practiced charm, her eyes calculating as they took in my appearance. "It's such an honor to meet the future Alpha," she said, her voice carrying a slight accent that suggested expensive private education. "I've heard so many impressive things about your leadership abilities."
I wanted to tell her that I wasn't interested, that I already had a mate who meant more to me than all the political advantages in the world. But my mother was watching me with sharp eyes, clearly expecting me to at least be polite to their guest.
"Nice to meet you," I said stiffly, not bothering to hide my lack of enthusiasm.
If Isabella was offended by my cold reception, she didn't show it. Instead, she launched into what was clearly a well-rehearsed performance designed to showcase her suitability as a future Luna.
"I've been studying pack management and supernatural law since I was twelve," she said, moving closer to me with predatory grace. "My father says I have a natural talent for diplomacy and strategic thinking."
"That's... great," I replied, taking a step backward to maintain distance between us.
She followed, her smile never wavering. "I also speak four languages fluently and have extensive training in combat techniques. I believe a Luna should be able to fight alongside her Alpha when necessary."
Despite all her efforts at flirting with me—the way she kept touching my arm when she spoke, the sultry looks she threw in my direction, the way she positioned herself to show off her figure—I felt absolutely nothing. No attraction, no interest, no desire to continue this conversation.
All I could think about was Lexa's genuine smile, the way she blushed when I complimented her, the soft sounds she made when I kissed her neck. This polished stranger with her calculated charm felt like a pale imitation of real connection.
When my mother announced that dinner was ready, I found myself trapped at the table between Isabella and my father, who had clearly been briefed on the plan to push this match. The conversation flowed around me as they discussed pack politics, territorial agreements, and the advantages of uniting our bloodlines.
"Isabella's pack has some of the finest warriors in the eastern territories," my father was saying. "An alliance through marriage would strengthen our position considerably."
"And I would be honored to help expand your pack's influence," Isabella added, placing her hand on my arm again. "Together, we could build something truly powerful."
I mechanically ate the food on my plate, barely tasting anything as I counted the minutes until I could escape this nightmare. Every fiber of my being was screaming that this was wrong, that I belonged with Lexa, not sitting here pretending to consider a political marriage.
After what felt like hours, dinner finally ended. I stood up quickly, desperate to get away from Isabella's cloying perfume and my parents' expectant stares.
"I need some air," I announced, heading toward the door.
But as I tried to leave the dining room, a wave of dizziness hit me like a physical blow. The room seemed to spin around me, and I had to grab the back of my chair to keep from falling.
"Kyle?" my mother's voice sounded distant and distorted. "Are you alright?"
I tried to respond, but my tongue felt thick and unresponsive. My legs felt like they were made of lead as I dragged myself toward my bedroom, each step requiring enormous effort.
"Just... tired," I managed to mumble, though even I could hear how slurred my words sounded.
The last thing I remembered before darkness claimed me was the satisfied look I glimpsed on Isabella's face, and the terrible realization that I had been drugged.