Savior Hunt did not sleep.

He lay in the king-sized bed of his hotel suite in Manhattan, sheets tangled around his waist, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The skyline glowed in the distance, but it was the memory of her - her scent, her lips, her voice - that lit him like wildfire.

Lauretta.

He didn't know her last name.

He didn't need to.

His wolf whispered it in his mind with a hunger he struggled to control.

Find her.

Claim her.

She is ours.

Savior dragged both hands over his face and growled softly. "Shut up. I'm not doing that."

"I don't even know her that well"

His wolf retreated a little, irritated, pacing in the back of his mind like a caged predator denied fresh meat.

He sat up abruptly. The sheets slid down his torso. He was still shirtless. Still restless. Still breathing in the phantom scent of vanilla, moonlit jasmine, and something darker - something ancient - that clung to Lauretta like a crown.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"What's going on with me?"

He'd had women before. Plenty. Being the only son of Hexta Hunt - Alpha of the largest remaining werewolf territory in America - meant women practically threw themselves at him. But only one woman had ever made his wolf go silent, drop to its belly, and then rise with a snarl of mine.

Lauretta.

The way she'd looked at him with defiance instead of awe.

The way her voice had slid over his skin like silk and claws.

The way she offered him nothing but boldness... and desire.

And when she kissed him - when he had her beneath him - he felt something that terrified him more than his father's own wrath.

Bond.

Not full, not complete.

But something that felt too close.

It scared him enough that he ran.

No, he escaped.

Leaving her sleeping peacefully because staying meant surrendering.

He stood abruptly, grabbed his black shirt from the couch, and tugged it over his head. His wolf snarled again. It hated clothes. Hated human composure. Hated the fact that Savior was intentionally staying away from the only woman who'd ever made him feel alive.

But Savior had responsibilities.

Heir to the Hunt Legacy.

Future Alpha.

Bound to duty.

Chained by expectations older than he was.

He couldn't get attached.

He couldn't get weak.

He couldn't-

His phone buzzed.

He glanced at the caller ID.

Mom.

Savior exhaled slowly, allowing the tension in his back to soften. He loved Jasmine Hunt more than anything. She was the calm in the storm of his father's rule.

He answered.

"Hey, Mom."

"Sweetheart," Jasmine said, her voice warm, composed, and musical. "You sound tired. Did you land safely? Your message last night was short."

Savior swallowed. "I'm fine. Just... long night."

She hummed knowingly. "Business or pleasure?"

He hesitated.

His mother didn't pressure. She rarely did. But she always knew.

"Business," he lied.

"Well," she sighed softly, "your father is pacing the mansion as if the moon itself is late. I believe he expects you home by noon. He said something about a council meeting. And the Philips family is here."

Savior stiffened.

Perfect.

Just what he didn't need: a confrontation with Hexta Hunt and the family trying to push their daughter Amira into his life.

"I'll head home soon," he said.

"And Savior?"

"Hm?"

Her voice lowered with concern. "Are you... okay? You sound far away."

He shut his eyes briefly.

He saw Lauretta's face.

He smelled her scent.

He felt her breath against his neck.

"I'm fine, Mom."

A soft sigh. "If you say so, my love. Travel safely."

"Always."

He hung up, grabbed his jacket, and left.

---

THE HUNT MANSION - SILVERCREST CITY

Two hours later

Savior stepped out of his car and stared up at the property he had been raised in - a massive stone and black-steel estate overlooking the river, banners of the Hunt crest fluttering in the breeze.

He heard voices before he even entered.

Angry voices.

His father's.

Damn it.

Savior stepped inside, and immediately every warrior bowed slightly.

"Alpha's son."

"Future Alpha."

"Sir."

He nodded, though tension already pulled at his jaw.

His mother appeared at the top of the stairs like soft moonlight. Jasmine was stunning, all flowing silver hair, warm brown skin, and eyes that carried the softness his father lacked.

She descended gracefully and pulled him into a hug.

"My boy."

Savior hugged her tightly. "Missed you."

"I know." She pulled back and cupped his face. "Now breathe before your father gives himself a stroke."

Too late.

"SAVIOR!"

Hexta Hunt's voice boomed from the council room like thunder.

Here we go.

Savior sighs and followed the sound and stepped inside.

Hexta stood at the head of the long table, broad-shouldered, greying hair pulled back, power radiating from him like heat. Beside him sat Dew Philips and his parents... and Amira, who lit up like a lightbulb when she saw Savior.

"About time," Hexta barked.

Savior kept his expression flat. "I drove in from Manhattan."

"You should have flown," his father snapped. "You have responsibilities."

Here we go.

"What's the emergency?" Savior asked.

"The emergency," Hexta said sharply, "is that you've returned from your trip even more distracted than before. Your energy is unstable. Your wolf is restless. You missed three training sessions, and you've been avoiding Amira."

Savior didn't look at her.

He didn't have to.

Amira Philips was beautiful - long-legged, soft-spoken, loyal. A perfect Luna candidate on paper.

But the problem?

She wasn't Lauretta.

"Father," Savior said evenly, "I told you I'm not marrying for political convenience."

Amira's mother cleared her throat. "Savior, darling, we're not saying marriage now, just-"

"No," Savior cut in.

Everyone flinched.

Hexta's eyes darkened. "No?"

"That's what I said."

Silence.

Jasmine, standing behind Hexta, subtly shook her head at Savior, pleading for calm.

But Savior's wolf was pacing, restless, irritated. It scented Lauretta in his mind, tasted her, wanted her.

"Savior," Hexta growled, "you are the next Alpha. You do not get to pick and play with women like a reckless boy. You will form alliances. You will obey the bloodline. You will-"

"I'll choose my mate," Savior said quietly. "Not you."

Shock rippled around the room like wind.

Hexta slammed his hand on the table, power rippling. "You think this is a game?! The Owens incident nearly cost our pack its place twenty-five years ago! You think I'll let you jeopardize the future with a random woman-"

"Dad," Savior snapped. "This isn't about the Owens. This is about me."

His father's face froze. Hard. Dangerous.

"You smell different," Hexta said slowly, darkly. "You smell like a woman."

Savior stiffened.

Jasmine's eyes widened in worry.

Dew Philips choked on his drink.

Amira burst into tears quietly.

Hexta leaned forward. "Who is she?"

Savior's heart pounded.

He saw Lauretta's smile.

He heard her laugh.

He felt her nails down his back.

He couldn't tell them.

Not because she was human - because she wasn't.

Not because she was a stranger - because she wasn't.

But because of something far worse:

He didn't know her last name...

...or her connection to the one family his father hated most.

The outcasts.

The Owens.

"I don't owe you details," Savior said tightly.

Hexta's eyes glowed with Alpha fury. "You owe this pack everything."

Jasmine stepped between them. "Enough."

Her voice was soft, but it carried command. Even Hexta paused.

She turned to her son. "Savior. You're trembling."

He was.

But not from fear.

From wanting.

From remembering Lauretta pinned under him, her voice begging for more.

Jasmine touched his arm gently. "Come outside with me. Now."

He followed her like a lost child.

---

Jasmine led him to the moonflower garden behind the estate. The air was cool, the scent sweet, and for a moment, Savior just breathed.

His mother watched him closely.

"You met someone," she said simply.

Savior swallowed. "Mom..."

"You don't have to hide everything from me. I raised you. I feel your heart tremble when you're holding something heavy."

Damn. She knew him too well.

Savior sat on the stone bench, elbows on his knees. "It was one night. I don't... I don't even know her last name."

Jasmine's soft gasp was filled with warmth, not judgment. "Oh, sweetheart."

"It wasn't supposed to be anything," he continued, running a hand through his hair. "But she's in my head. I can still smell her. I can't sleep. My wolf is... acting insane."

"Bond?" Jasmine whispered.

"Something close."

She exhaled sharply. "Oh Savior... this isn't small."

He knew.

He absolutely knew.

Jasmine sat beside him, her hand gentle on his shoulder. "You deserve love, not political chains. If she's meant for you... you'll see her again."

Savior closed his eyes.

"I want to."

"Then find her."

He looked at her sharply. "Dad-"

"Let me deal with your father." Her voice stiffened, still warm but iron underneath. "The world has changed. The old rules no longer serve us. If the moon pulled your soul to this woman... then I trust the moon."

Savior felt emotion claw at his throat.

But then-

"It's not going to easy, where would I be able to find her without no surname?" Savior sighs grabbing a handful of his hair.

"You will find her, trust me , I will enable my most trusted men to help, don't worry about it" Jasmine said.

"Mom..."

His phone buzzed.

A notification.

He glanced down.

Social Media Tag:

LuneArt Studios - Award Ceremony in Silvercrest City

The picture that loaded hit him like a punch.

A woman in a cream jumpsuit.

Black curls pulled into a sleek ponytail.

Golden skin glowing under the lights.

Sharp eyes, sharper posture.

Boss energy radiating like heat.

Lauretta.

His breath stopped.

She lives in Silvercrest.

She's here.

In his territory.

"Savior?" Jasmine whispered. "What is it?"

He didn't answer.

He was already standing.

Already moving.

Already burning.

His wolf roared in triumph.

Find her.

She's ours.

Find her NOW.

And Savior Hunt did the one thing that would change both their destinies:

He went after her.

"Savior?!" Jasmine shouts.

Savior Hunt had never been this unfocused in his life.

Not during Alpha training.

Not during combat trials.

Not even during the time the west border pack launched a midnight attack and he fought six wolves at once.

But one woman - one night - had wrecked him.

Lauretta.

Her name tasted like temptation on his tongue.

His wolf practically purred whenever he thought it.

And lately?

He thought about her every damned minute.

Her laugh.

Her attitude.

Her scent that clung to his memory like it owned him.

He drove like a man possessed toward Silvercrest City, heart thudding with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. He didn't even know what he'd do when he found her.

Hold her?

Touch her?

Smell her?

Fight her?

Kiss her until she forgot all sense?

His wolf wanted all of it.

But he had no plan.

He only had need.

---

The Hunt mansion was loud. Voices filled the halls as warriors trained outside and advisors argued inside. Hexta's voice boomed from his office, barking orders about the upcoming summit.

The moment Savior stepped inside, heads turned.

"Alpha's son."

"Future Alpha."

"Sir."

He nodded stiffly and kept walking. His mind wasn't here. Not today.

He needed to find her.

He tried to take the stairs two at a time, hoping to escape before-

"SAAAAVIOR!"

Too late.

Dew Philips - Beta's son, smug bastard, and Savior's best friend - launched himself at him like an enthusiastic puppy.

Savior caught him by the shoulders, groaning. "Dew, what the hell?"

Dew grinned, eyes gleaming with trouble. "So... rumor has it that our dear, emotionally constipated Alpha-to-be disappeared for two days on his 'business trip.' Which is interesting because last I checked, you don't do business in Manhattan nightclubs."

Savior stiffened.

Dew smirked wider. "Ah. So the rumors are true."

"There are no rumors," Savior said tightly.

"Oh please. The guards saw you stumbling in at dawn smelling like perfume and sin." Dew elbowed him. "Spill. Who's the woman? Why is your wolf pacing like you put caffeine in its food?"

Savior stared at him.

Dew's mouth fell open. "HOLY SHIT. IT'S TRUE?!"

And then he burst out laughing.

Savior dragged a hand down his face. "Dew-"

"Oh my god, the cold, stoic, terrifying Savior Hunt actually slept with someone! After what-two years? Three? Was it amazing? It must've been. You look traumatized."

Savior didn't answer.

His silence was answer enough.

Dew froze.

"Oh... oh no. It was THAT good?"

Savior exhaled sharply. "Drop it."

Dew looked horrified. "Dude. Are you... in love?"

Savior nearly choked. "Dew, I swear to-"

"Okay, okay! Don't punch me. But seriously, what did she do to you? Did she hex you? Bite you? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear?"

Savior's jaw clenched.

"She didn't do anything," he said quietly. "I... don't know what's happening to me."

Dew blinked.

And for a rare moment, the teasing dropped.

"...Shit. It's that serious?"

"Yeah."

Dew rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay. Then start talking. What's her name? Where's she from? Is she human? Wolf? A witch? Is she hot? Actually, scratch that - she HAS to be hot if you're this messed up."

"Her name is Lauretta," Savior muttered.

Dew raised a brow. "And?"

"And that's all I know."

Dew stared.

"Wait. Wait-WAIT. You don't know anything else?" he exclaimed. "Savior! Did you at least check if you used protection?! What if she's pregnant?!"

Savior stiffened so violently that Dew's eyes widened.

"...Oh gods," Dew whispered. "You didn't."

"I didn't," Savior growled.

Dew let out a strangled laugh. "Wow. You really said 'fuck responsibility' and meant it."

"Dew-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Continue. What else do we know about Lauretta?"

Savior hesitated.

He didn't tell Dew about the LuneArt Studios post.

About the picture.

About the fact that she lived here - in his territory.

He didn't have to.

Because his wolf suddenly snapped awake.

She's close.

Savior inhaled slowly.

There it was.

Her scent.

Faint but present.

Like moonlit jasmine drifting through sunlight.

He stiffened.

Dew noticed instantly. "Bro... are you okay?"

"She's in Silvercrest," Savior said quietly.

Dew blinked. "Wait - WHAT? Your one-night mystery woman is HERE?!"

Savior didn't bother answering.

He brushed past Dew, instincts igniting like wildfire.

He needed to see her.

Now.

"Savior!"

"Jeez, you couldn't even take off your suit man" Dew called after him.

Dew sighs, "What love can do "

He shakes his head and walks inside.

---

The normal and rational Savior would have been busy with meetings or pack duties.

He should've gone to train.

Should've gone to the council room.

Should've checked in with his father.

But instead...

He drove.

Straight into the city.

Straight toward the LuneArt Studios building.

He told himself he was just curious.

He told himself he just wanted a glimpse.

He told himself he didn't care.

All lies.

His wolf practically hummed with anticipation as he passed the tall glass building with the glowing moon emblem.

He slowed the car.

There - through the fourth-floor windows.

Lauretta Owens walked across the studio like she owned the world.

Wearing a fitted navy jumpsuit.

Hair slicked back into a ponytail.

Sharp eyes.

Sharp heels.

Sharp tongue - he could still hear her voice in his head.

She commanded the room with a presence that made even the walls straighten.

Savior's breath left him.

"Fuck."

She looked... beautiful.

Untouchable.

Perfect.

He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.

His wolf practically whined, pressing against his mind.

Go to her.

Touch her.

Smell her.

Claim her.

"No," Savior whispered. "Not yet."

"It doesn't work that way, she might have even forgotten about me" he mutters.

He couldn't walk in.

Not until he figured out what the hell this connection was.

Not until he knew what he wanted.

He forced himself to drive away.

Barely.

---

THE DINING HALL - HUNT MANSION

Later that evening, the dining hall was full. The long wooden table was lined with warriors, pack members, advisors - and the Philips family.

Amira sat beside him, smiling sweetly. Too sweetly.

"Welcome back," she said softly.

Savior grunted. "Thanks."

"You look tired," she added, placing a delicate hand on his arm.

His wolf growled instantly.

He moved his arm away.

Amira's face fell, but she recovered. She always did.

She wanted him.

She'd always wanted him.

But he had never felt anything for her.

Not even a spark.

Savior stabbed his food with unnecessary aggression.

Dew leaned in from across the table and whispered, "You're acting like a lovesick teenager with anger issues."

Savior didn't look up. "Shut up."

Dew smirked. "Okay, Romeo."

Jasmine watched him with worried eyes.

Hexta watched him with suspicion.

Savior's head was full of Lauretta.

The way she looked at him.

The way she moaned.

The way she didn't fear him.

The way she-

"Son," Hexta said sharply, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Where is your mind tonight?"

Savior answered honestly.

"Not here."

Gasps rippled down the table.

"Woah..." Dew gasps.

Earning a glare from his father.

Hexta's eyes narrowed. "You are distracted."

"Yes," Savior said evenly.

"And that is unacceptable."

"Maybe I don't care."

Hexta slammed his fist against the table so hard the plates rattled.

"Savior Hunt! You do NOT get to fall apart! You do NOT get to be distracted! You are the heir! You are the future Alpha! You-"

"I know," Savior said quietly. "But right now... I need space."

Jasmine touched Hexta's arm. "Enough. Let him breathe."

"Breathe?" Hexta snapped. "He smells like a woman! His wolf is unsteady! This is the exact recklessness that destroyed the Owens!"

Savior stiffened.

Lauretta's image flashed in his mind.

He didn't know her last name.

He didn't know her family.

He didn't know her history.

He didn't know... anything.

Except that he wanted her.

Badly.

Painfully.

Dangerously.

He stood abruptly from the table.

"I'm done here."

"Savior!" Jasmine called softly.

But he was already walking out.

Already choking on the memory of Lauretta's scent.

Already in too deep.

"What the actual hell am I supposed to do with myself?" He mutters.

---

Savior returned to his room, heart beating too hard, mind spinning.

He shut the door.

The scent of moonlight and jasmine slammed into him.

His wolf surged.

Snarling. Growling. Demanding.

He fell to his knees, gripping the floor.

FIND HER.

WE NEED HER.

NOW.

Savior groaned, chest burning with longing.

"Oh Lauretta, you're like a f*cking virus, you're eating me up from inside!"

"Fuck!" He shouts grabbing a handful of his hair.

He wanted her so badly he felt sick.

This wasn't normal.

This wasn't rational.

This wasn't-

He stood abruptly.

"I'm going to find her."

His wolf howled in triumph.

The city of Silvercrest had a way of looking too bright at times, streets glittering under the late afternoon sun like gold dust. But to Lauretta Owens, the sunlight was meaningless. It did nothing to illuminate the turmoil that had taken root inside her chest. She sat at her glass desk in LuneArt Studios, the sharp lines of her office and the bold colors of her canvases blurred by the storm in her mind. Every brushstroke on the wall seemed dull compared to the vivid images of him that refused to leave her thoughts.

Savior Hunt.

She tried to tell herself it had been just one night. A fleeting connection. A dangerous encounter that shouldn't have mattered. Yet his face, his voice, his scent - all of it was lodged in her like a living thing. Every time she closed her eyes, she could hear his low, confident tones echoing in her ears, smell the faint cedar and musk that clung to him like an invisible trail. Even in the daylight, even surrounded by work and responsibility, her body remembered him.

Her laptop sat open, cursor blinking, a silent accusation. She had begun "researching" him. Not because she wanted to, but because she couldn't stop herself. His name typed into search bars yielded profiles, news articles, and sleek photographs - all of which pulled her deeper into obsession. Each image of him, every news snippet about the Hunt family, sent a pang of longing and irritation through her chest. She hated that she wanted him so badly, hated that he had invaded her thoughts without permission.

And yet... she couldn't stop.

Hated that he was her enemy, someone she couldn't have.

Her phone buzzed sharply, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. Angela's name flashed on the screen. Relief and dread collided as she answered.

"Angela," she said, forcing a casual tone she didn't feel.

"I can hear it in your voice," Angela replied immediately, no greeting, no small talk. "Don't even try to pretend you're fine. You've been staring at his pictures again, haven't you?"

"I... no," Lauretta said quickly, though her voice sounded fragile even to her own ears.

Angela snorted. "Right. Totally normal behavior: CEO of a successful art studio, late afternoon, staring at a man's photos online like a lovesick teenager. You're obsessive, Lauretta. Admit it."

Lauretta pressed her forehead against her desk. "I'm not obsessive," she whispered.

"You are," Angela said bluntly. "Obsessed, infatuated, wrapped around his finger, whatever you want to call it. And you're heading straight for disaster."

"I can't help it," Lauretta admitted, almost inaudibly. "It's like... like he's in my blood. Everywhere I go, everything I do, he's there. I can't think about anyone else. I... I hate it, but I... I can't stop."

Angela's voice softened, just slightly. "I know. I've seen this before. But listen - you've got to get a grip. You're letting a man you barely know control your every thought. You're brilliant, you're capable, and you're letting him steal your headspace."

Lauretta groaned. "I know. I know! But it's not like that. He's... I don't know. He's everything and nothing, and it's maddening."

"Exactly," Angela said with a sharp laugh. "Maddening. Dangerously maddening. And you're loving it."

Before Lauretta could respond, a knock sounded at her office door. Mara, her assistant, appeared with a hesitant expression.

"Sorry to interrupt, Lauretta," Mara said softly, holding a folder, "but there's a client proposal that needs your approval. And... someone is here asking for you. He said it's urgent."

Lauretta's stomach twisted. She didn't need Mara to say his name. She felt it before she saw him: that magnetic pull in the air, the subtle shift in temperature, the almost instinctual awareness that someone had entered her space and was dangerous.

Angela, still on speakerphone, let out a sharp, knowing intake of breath. "Don't tell me-"

Lauretta cut her off with a quick, "Send him in." Her voice trembled slightly despite her attempt at calm.

The office door opened, and the man entered. Every detail of him was vivid in her senses: broad shoulders, dark tailored suit, the faint, intoxicating scent of cedar and something wilder beneath it, the confidence that radiated from him like heat.

Savior Hunt.

Angela's gasp echoed through the speaker. "Oh. Ohhhh. That explains everything."

Lauretta's chest tightened. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, senses flaring. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but every part of her craved him closer.

Savior's eyes locked onto hers, intense and unyielding. He didn't smile, didn't offer casual greetings. He simply was, and the room seemed to shrink until it was only them.

"Hello, Lauretta," he said, low and deliberate, voice carrying that dangerous edge that set her pulse racing.

Angela, undeterred, continued, her voice teasing: "Yep. Totally obsessed. Classic look: eyes wide, jaw tight, about three seconds from spontaneously combusting. This is why I live, watching you unravel."

Lauretta groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Angela! I'm trying to handle this professionally!"

Savior leaned against the desk, eyes never leaving hers. "You've been thinking about me," he said, almost as a statement, not a question. "You can't hide it."

Her breath hitched. Angela's words echoed in her mind: Obsessed. The truth burned, sharp but undeniable.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed violently. She glanced down and saw a message from her father:

We need to talk. Now. About Hexta Hunt.

Her blood ran cold. Savior noticed immediately, his gaze sharpening, the alpha in him sensing the threat in her sudden panic.

"We go together," he said firmly, gripping her hand with surprising strength. "I'm not leaving you."

Angela's voice broke through, sharp and excited: "Ohhh! Protective mode activated! Alpha alert! This is exactly why I'm here! Popcorn ready!"

Lauretta ignores her, can't get over the fact that Savior held her hands which sent fire and desire through her body.

"You're welcome!" Angela chirped. "Go! Handle your chaos! And don't get eaten or cursed or whatever Hunt family men do."

The call clicks.

Savior not being aware of the call, eyes glued to Lauretta.

Savior leaned in closer, face inches from hers. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, low and magnetic. "Not for a second."

Her chest heaved. Her wolf stirred, instincts raw, senses heightened. Desire warred with reason, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself feel the pull completely.

Savior walks to her, close, heated, and takes off the ear pods on her ears brushing against her earrings.

Lauretta's heart pounds, eyes heated with desire.

Every sense was on high alert. The streets of Silvercrest seemed to hum around them, the sunlight glinting off buildings and cars, but she only noticed him.

"You need to leave" Lauretta choked out.

Savior looks at her intently, "I'm not going anywhere "

"Savior...."

"Lauretta don't you get it, I'm literally losing my mind every single day, thinking of you and now I'm here you're telling me to leave?" Savior said.

"Leave " She said averting his gaze.

"You and I know you don't mean it" He said

"I do"

" Look at me, and say it"

Lauretta breathes out, calming her wolf and looks up.

"Leave, Savior" her silver eyes glistening in the sun.

Savior stares, desire builds up.

Lauretta turns away, "if you have nothing else to say, please leave, I have work to do"

Her wolf cries out badly but she can't continue to fall for him anymore, he's driving her insane.

She really needs to stay away from him, even if it hurts.

Savior's shoes click to ground, as he walks towards the door and stops.

"We will meet again, Lauretta"

And then, from a shadowed rooftop across the street, a pair of eyes followed them. Not Hexta Hunt, not an enemy she recognized, but someone tied to Lauretta's past - someone who knew the secrets of her mother's exile, someone who had waited a long time to see this moment.

The observer's lips curved into a faint, almost predatory smile.

This is going to be far more interesting than I expected.

Lauretta didn't know it yet, but her obsession, her desire, and her dangerous connection with Savior Hunt were about to collide with forces she couldn't even imagine.