Adrian’s POV
A violent pull tore straight through my ches.
Mate.
My dormant wolf thrashed against my ribs in absolute panic.
The crystal glass shattered in my grip. Shards pierced my palm, sending blood and champagne dripping onto the polished mahogany table. I felt no physical pain—only a suffocating terror I hadn't experienced in decades.
Ignoring the horrified executives and the multi-billion dollar acquisition meeting, I kicked my chair back. "Zane. Car. Now," I growled, storming out of the penthouse club.
Within minutes, my custom armored Maybach was tearing through the neon-lit streets.
"Faster," I snarled.
"Alpha, we're already at max speed—"
"I said FASTER!"
The psychic thread pulled my soul toward the western suburbs, pulsing with lethal danger.
As the car approached the abandoned furniture factory, a loud explosion suddenly echoed through the night.
BOOM!
Flames burst through the broken windows of the building.
Zane slammed the brakes.
“Sir!”
The blistering heat of the fire slammed into me the moment I crossed the threshold.
Through the toxic smoke and the roar of the flames, my eyes instantly locked onto her. She was lying on the scorched concrete, an incredibly fragile figure barely clinging to life.
"What the hell?!" a man stumbled out of the haze, his face blackened with soot. The moment his bloodshot eyes locked onto my tailored suit, his confusion twisted into desperate, cornered rage.
"Another one?!" he snarled, spitting blood onto the floor. "Did that scumbag send you to take the money back?! You think you can play us like this?!" He charged at me, wildly swinging a heavy iron pipe. "Kill him! Don't let him out alive!"
I didn't even break my stride.
“You—”
My hand slipped inside my suit jacket, smoothly drawing my custom-made combat knife.
The man never finished his sentence.
I easily sidestepped his clumsy attack, driving the lethal blade straight into his shoulder before burying my knee into his ribs. Bone snapped with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered across the burning floor as he collapsed, but I was already moving past him.
Two more attackers lunged from the sides, desperate and screaming.
They were too slow. I grabbed one by the throat, slamming him into a concrete pillar with enough force to knock him out instantly, while a reverse slash of my knife neutralized the other before he could even raise his weapon.
In less than ten seconds, the men who had dared to touch my mate were nothing but groaning, bleeding heaps on the floor.
Finally, I reached her side.
Up close, the devastation was a physical blow to my chest.
Her pale skin was marred by deep wounds. Fresh blood soaked through her ruined dress, pooling beneath her. I could barely see her chest rise—each breath was a weak gasp that took all her remaining strength.
My wolf howled in devastating agony.
I dropped heavily to my knees beside her, ignoring the blistering heat of the floor searing through my suit pants.
"Eileen."
The name tore from my lips before I even realized it.
My hands actually shook as I slid my arms under her, terrified that even a slight movement would break her. She weighed nothing. Holding her fragile body against my chest, my own heart almost stopped.
"Sir! Your back—!"
Zane’s shocked voice echoed behind me as he finally rushed into the warehouse. The flames had scorched through the back of my tailored shirt, leaving angry red burns across my skin.
I didn't even feel it. My entire world was the dying woman in my arms.
"Call the hospital," I ordered, my voice colder than ice. "Tell them to prepare the trauma unit."
"Yes, Alpha!"
Just then, the fragile body against my chest stirred weakly.
Her soot-covered eyelashes trembled. Slowly, agonizingly, she forced her eyes open. For a fleeting moment, her unfocused, beautiful gaze met mine. Her small, bloodstained fingers reached up, weakly curling into the ruined fabric of my suit jacket.
"…Mate…"
The word was barely a breath .
Then, her grip went slack. Her head fell back against my arm.
I froze.
Mate. She recognized the bond too, even at death's door.
"Let's go."
I carried her out of the burning ruins, shielding her from the smoke and falling debris with my own body. I placed her carefully in the back seat of the Maybach, letting her head rest gently on my lap as the car tore down the road toward the hospital.
Staring at her pale face, I brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. For the first time in my entire life, something in my chest tightened—subtle, unfamiliar, dangerously close to… concern.
Eileen’s POV
When I woke up again, the world smelled like disinfectant and medicine.
White walls.
Soft lighting.
A hospital.
My body felt sore everywhere.
The door clicked open.
The man from the factory stepped inside.
He had changed into a crisp, dark dress shirt, custom-tailored to fit his broad shoulders perfectly.
He walked slowly toward my bed, his dark, heavy gaze locking directly onto mine.
The moment that faint forest pine scent hit my senses, my tense body instinctively relaxed. A long-lost peace settled over my chest.
The air between us grew heavy. We didn't speak, but the silence wasn't awkward at all.
It felt... magnetic.
My inner wolf let out a soft, almost yearning whine beneath my skin.
I had never seen this man before.
So, why?
My eyes drifted downward unconsciously.
The knife at his waist caught my attention.
Dried blood still stained the blade.
But what truly made my heart skip was the symbol engraved on the handle.
A pack crest.
The Vance family crest.
My fingers instinctively tightened on the thin blanket.
I parted my dry lips, a thousand questions burning in my tight throat. "Who—"
"Save your strength," he murmured. "Just close your eyes and rest. I'm going to get you something to eat."
He didn't wait for me to nod. He turned around, his broad shoulders noticeably stiff, and walked out of the room.
I sat there for a long moment, my heart beating wildly in my chest, before I finally pushed the blanket aside and slowly got out of bed, walking toward the bathroom.
After I finished bathing, the mirror reflected a pale, exhausted woman.
My mind replayed the chaotic final seconds in the factory.
Just before that man kicked the doors open… I had shifted.
I slashed my massive claws violently against the metal of the leaking gas cylinders, striking a lethal spark.
The deafening explosion ripped through the warehouse, creating the perfect cover.
My right hand instinctively mimicking that desperate motion—
CRASH.
I knocked a row of shampoo bottles onto the hard tile floor.
They clattered loudly against the floor.
Outside the bathroom, footsteps rushed closer.
“Are you alright?”
Before I could even reach for the fallen bottles, the bathroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges.
I gasped, spinning around.
Adrian burst into the doorway, his chest heaving violently.
His panicked gaze swept the tile floor first, clearly expecting to find my fragile body passed out. When his eyes finally snapped up and realized I was standing, the raw terror on his face froze.
The air in the small bathroom instantly evaporated.
I was standing there, soaked through. Water dripped from my hair, sliding down my neck and disappearing into the valley of my breasts.
His pupils dilated.
“…Sorry.”
His voice was unusually tense.
Without looking, he grabbed a bathrobe from the rack beside him and quickly wrapped it around me.
He didn't hesitate. He hooked an arm under my knees and another behind my back, lifting me effortlessly. I instinctively clung to his neck, my face burying into the crook of his shoulder.
But a sudden shiver wracked my body, tearing an involuntary gasp from my lips as his movement tugged at my brutalized skin.
Adrian stopped dead.
"Did I hurt you?"
He tilted his head down, his jaw tense with overwhelming worry, his nose brushing against my ear. His hot breath fanned over my damp skin, the low, raspy vibration of his voice making my toes curl.
"No..." I breathed, slowly looking up at him.
But the moment my eyes met his, the word died in my throat. We were too close. The air between us suddenly grew incredibly thick, thick with his dark scent and an undeniable, magnetic heat.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and his head leaned in, closer... closer...
CLICK!
The ward door handle twisted with a sudden jerk.