Chapter 18 Chapter 18
LUCA
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night.
It’s pathetic, honestly. I’m supposed to be the gentle one. The reasonable one. The one who keeps Zane from destroying furniture and keeps Jax from accidentally murdering someone with one look. I’m the brother who’s always composed.
Except now… I can’t think straight.
Not since that night.
The night of our rut.
The night Mira—soft, terrified Mira—was sitting on the bed beside me, her scent warm and dizzying in the dark. The night Zane had reached for her thigh, and she didn’t pull away. The night Jax’s breathing had gone ragged right in front of her. The night I was close enough that her hand brushed mine on the sheets and she didn’t move it.
The night we all lost control, just a little.
And she let us.
My throat went dry when I recalled her flushed cheeks, how her lips had parted slightly, how she had tried—oh, she had tried—to hide the shiver running down her spine or when she tried to pretend she wasn’t watching us. I can still hear the way her breath hitched when Zane whispered something teasing, the way her eyes flicked to my cock for half a second before she jerked away. I can still feel the warmth of her skin through the thin blanket she tried to hide under.
I’ve replayed it a thousand times, and still it’s not enough.
I shifted on the lounge couch, pretending to read, but the book was meaningless. My eyes followed Zane pacing, his fingers scraping along the armrest like he was sharpening his claws on the furniture. Jax leaned back in the corner, arms crossed, shadowed and unreadable. Silence hung over us like a heavy blanket, thick and suffocating, humming with the tension that none of us dared to name.
A sharp tug at the edge of my mind made me freeze.
The mind-link.
Father.
The familiar cold, calculated pull of his command filled my skull before he even spoke. Zane growled low in frustration; Jax’s jaw tightened. My own wolf flickered impatiently, claws extending in instinctive response.
I inhaled, slow and controlled. “Let’s get it over with,” I muttered, barely audible.
The walk upstairs was taut with anticipation. Each step felt like dragging chains through thick water. By the time we reached Fathers office, my fingers had curled against my thighs until my knuckles ached. I shoved the memory of Mira’s skin, her scent, her trembling hand away, forcing it into the back of my mind where it couldn’t interfere—couldn’t make me reckless here.
We entered.
Alpha sat behind his desk, rigid, imposing. His dark eyes pinned us instantly, sharp enough to cut through steel. He didn’t rise; he didn’t need to. The power radiating from him made the air thick and hard to breathe.
“I assume you have not forgotten about the meeting next week,” his voice was smooth, measured, but carried the weight of a predator closing in.
Zane snorted. Jax leaned forward slightly, jaw tight. I kept my face neutral, but my wolf bristled.
“No, Alpha,” Jax said evenly, forcing his voice to steady.
“Good. I would hate to think my sons are so distracted they cannot remember their responsibilities,” he continued, eyes narrowing at each of us in turn, as if measuring exactly how much he could bend us before we broke.
Zane opened his mouth, clearly ready to argue, but father cut him off with a single, sharp gesture.
“And,” he added, almost casually, “Mira will accompany you.”
The words hit me like a shockwave. My chest tightened; a growl rose from deep in my throat before I could swallow it down. Zane growled too, low and dangerous. Jax’s growl was quieter but heavier, a dark rumble from deep inside.
Alpha’s gaze snapped to us. His expression darkened, lips pressing into a hard line. “Enough,” he said, voice cutting through the room like a whip. The growls died instantly.
He rose slowly, and the room shrank around him. His shadow stretched long over the floor. “There is no place for weakness,” he said, voice low but sharp, like steel against glass. “Other heirs already take their fathers’ packs. Other heirs have their mates bearing heirs to strengthen their lines. Yet here you are, acting like schoolboys chasing after a girl.”
Zane stiffened, fists curling. Jax’s fingers flexed, a storm barely contained. My own pulse drummed like a second heartbeat in my ears. My wolf snarled inside me, restless, frustrated.
“You will bring her,” he continued, “she will sit beside you. She will demonstrate that you are capable of more than frivolity. That you are not wasting your time with something you cannot control.”
The words hit deep. Possessive. Commanding. Final.
“Leave,” he commanded, dismissive now. No room for argument.
The moment the door shut behind us, Zane snapped. “She’s not going anywhere near those bastards!” he spat, voice rough, teeth clenched. “Did you hear him? A room full of Alpha males—”
“They’ll sense her immediately,” Jax murmured, voice low, a knife of warning.
“They’ll look at her,” Zane continued, almost hysterical. “They’ll touch her—”
“They won’t,” I interrupted, tone even, sharp.
Zane spun on me, outrage sparking. “How can you be so calm? We can’t even tell her what our father said without overwhelming her.”
“I’ll tell her,” I said firmly, jaw tight. “Alone. Calmly. Carefully.”
Zane huffed, clearly wanting to argue further, but he knew it was useless. Jax just stepped aside, silent, coiled and dangerous.
We needed to release some of this tension. Sparring ring. Always sparring ring. That was Zane’s outlet, Jax’s, mine sometimes… but not tonight. Not for me.
Because my steps took me in the opposite direction, towards her hallway. Every step was heavier than the last. Every thought of her stole my breath.
I stopped in front of her door, hand raised, knuckles brushing the wood. I inhaled slowly, wolf scent flickering at the edges of my consciousness, desperate to mark, to protect, to claim.
I knocked once.
A pause.
Soft footsteps.
The door clicked open.
And there she was.
Hair wet, clinging to her shoulders and slowly dripping down her skin. Skin glowing, still flushed from the shower. The towel wrapped around her body threatened to slip down across her chest, framing her in a way that made my teeth ache to bite down on the impulse, to taste, to touch. My pulse hammered. My wolf growled low and possessive.
Her eyes widened and she hesitated, catching me staring, her lips parting in confusion.
“Oh… Luca?” she whispered, breath soft and uneven.
I swallowed hard. Gods, I was dead.