**Author's POV**
Bloodmoon pack
Lucian’s eyes yanked open, his body clammy, as he was drenched in sweat.
"Seraphina," he murmured, frustration rising in his voice. It was her again. The dreams were relentless, tugging at him that he couldn't differentiate between reality and fantasy.
Ever since she had left the Bloodmoon pack, he had been tormented by the memories of her.
Each night, the wet dreams grew more intense, dragging him to the extent that he had been obsessed, that he refused to admit. Guilt gnawed at him as he lay in the dim light of his room, staring at the ceiling. Maybe he shouldn’t have rejected her. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve treated her better.
By morning, Lucian stood near the window, his gaze distant. Seraphina’s image was burned into his mind—her piercing eyes, the way they seemed to see through him, haunted him even now. His heart tightened. She had vanished without any slightest trace, and although the pack nor the Darkmoors didn’t care, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
“What if she didn’t run away like Lyra said? What if…” His thoughts trailed off, dark and unresolved. Frustration surged. "I should search for her," he muttered under his breath.
Lucian strode across the room, his voice sharp as he called, "Sam!"
Sam appeared almost immediately, bowing low. "Yes, Your Highness?"
"Take a few of the trusted guards," Lucian ordered, his tone commanding. "Find Seraphina. Be discreet. Don’t let this spread."
Sam’s eyes flickered with surprise but he nodded. "At once, my prince."
As Sam left, Lucian exhaled sharply, his nerves relaxing for the first time in a while. But his relief was short-lived, as a knock came on his door. Another guard stepped in, bowing stiffly.
"Prince Lucian, your father has summoned you," the guard announced.
Lucian’s chest tightened. His father rarely asked about his presence unless it was something serious. Nodding curtly, Lucian made his way to Alpha Dante’s chambers.
The room carried the heavy scent of wood and leather, reflecting the power and authority of its occupant. Dante sat tall in his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on Lucian as he entered.
"Lucian," Dante said, his voice as sharp as steel. "The time has come. I’m stepping down. You will take over as Alpha."
The words hit Lucian like a blow. He stood frozen, unable to mask the shock on his face.
"Father… I don’t think I’m ready," Lucian finally managed, his voice unsteady.
"No one is ever ready," Dante snapped. "But you will rise to the occasion. Prepare yourself." His tone softened only slightly. "And marry Lyra. She will be a fine Luna."
Lucian’s heart sank. Marriage? To Lyra? He forced a smile to mask his unease. "Father, are you certain she’s ready for marriage?"
"She is," Dante replied curtly. "I’ve already discussed it with her family. It’s settled."
Lucian left his father’s chamber, his mind in a state of confusion as he retreated to his room. He perched on the edge of his bed, his hands pressed to his head. Yes, Lyra was beautiful, and their relationship was… convenient. But marriage? She was never in the future he envisioned for him.
He was still grappling with his thoughts when Lyra’s cheerful voice rang out.
"Lucian!" she chimed as she entered, her smile lighting up the room.
Lucian forced himself to smile back. "Hey," he said, his voice flat.
She leaned forward, pressing a kiss on his lips before settling onto his lap. "I can’t believe we’re getting married!" she squealed, her excitement palpable.
Lucian stiffened beneath her touch, his mind wandering again. Lyra’s gaze sharpened as she noticed his distraction.
"Lucian," she said, her tone tinged with concern. "What’s wrong?"
"I’m just tired," he muttered, brushing off her question.
Her expression softened as she pressed closer, her hands trailing down his chest. "Let me relieve you of your stress," she whispered, her voice seductive. "It's been a while since I have felt you inside me."
Lucian gently pushed her hands away.
Her smile vanished as a glimpse of anger crossed her face. "What’s going on with you?" she demanded, her tone hardening.
The words slipped out before he could stop them. "Have you heard anything about Seraphina?"
Lyra shot to her feet, her expression a mix of shock and fury. "Seraphina? Are you serious right now?"
Lucian tried to backtrack, but the damage was done.
"Lucian, we’re about to get married, and you’re still obsessing over that slave girl?" Lyra’s voice was venomous.
"I’m not obsessed," he insisted, standing to face her. "I’m just… worried about her. What if she didn’t run away? What if she was kidnapped?"
"Why do you care if she was Alive or dead?" Lyra spat, her voice trembling with anger. "Do you regret rejecting her?"
Lucian hesitated, his mask slipping for a moment too long. "Of course not."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Why can’t you just let her go and focus on us?" she whispered.
Lucian reached for her, his arms wrapping around her trembling form. "There’s nothing between us," he murmured, though in his heart, he knows it wasn't true. "I’m just concerned for her safety, that’s all."
Lyra pushed him away, her tears streaming down her face as she stormed out.
"Lyra!" Lucian called after her, but she didn’t look back. She pushed forward.
He sank onto the bed, frustration and guilt gnawing at him.
Hours later, Sam burst into the room, his face alight with urgency and happiness.
"My prince... we found her. We found Seraphina," Sam announced, his voice booming with excitement.
Lucian sprang to his feet, his heart pounding. "Where is she?"
"At a café in town," Sam replied.
"Let's go," Lucian said, his voice authoritative.
"But......it's late," Sam said.
Lucian shot him a glare. "Let's go," she ordered, his voice final.
The drive to the café was tense, the air in the car heavy with enthusiasm. When they arrived, Lucian pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes darting across the room.
There she was, standing behind the counter, wiping a tray. His breath sight at the sight of her—just as beautiful as ever.
"Good evening," Seraphina greeted, her voice soft. Then she glanced up. "We're closed for -" Her words faltered when their eyes met.
"Seraphina," Lucian said, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with emotion.