The restroom door shut behind me before anyone could ask where I was going. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure the entire pack could hear it.
Inside the stall, I sat on the closed toilet lid and opened the small box again. Sarah and the other girls had received silk scarves during the bonding ceremony soft, symbolic gifts that screamed possession in the most elegant way.
Mine was different.
A heavy ring of keys rested inside, cold and solid in my palm. Not decorative. Not symbolic.
Real.
Before I could even process it, my phone buzzed. A message from Finnick.
An address.
Not just any address the most exclusive territory in Sunshine City, where only high-ranking Alphas and ancient bloodlines built their homes. The kind of place guarded not by gates alone, but by reputation and power.
His territory.
The keys in my hand suddenly felt heavier.
He wanted me to move in.
Technically, it wasn't unreasonable. The elders had sealed our bond before the pack council. Our marriage was recognized by law and by instinct. An Alpha and his mate were meant to share territory. Me living elsewhere would only invite gossip.
Still… this felt sudden.
I closed the box slowly and pressed it to my chest, trying to steady the strange pull in my stomach.
When I returned to the media company with Sarah and the others, the energy was electric. We had secured an exclusive interview with Finnick Norton, Alpha of the Finnor Pack and head of Finnor Group. He rarely appeared in public, preferring to command from the shadows. Even agreeing to the interview had shocked the entire city.
We had taken several strong shots of him sharp jaw, cold eyes, quiet dominance even while seated. But no one dared publish anything without his consent. Challenging an Alpha's privacy was asking for war.
The chief editor called him personally, voice almost trembling. None of us expected a positive answer.
But he agreed.
The newsroom exploded.
"You're kidding! He's letting us publish his photo?"
"We're going viral for sure!"
They crowded around as Vivian no, as I finally allowed the images to be displayed. Gasps filled the room. Even unmated females from other departments wandered over.
"Sarah undersold him. He's unreal."
"He doesn't look like he even tries. That's Alpha presence."
Then someone noticed the chair.
A sleek, customized mobility chair polished black metal, powerful, deliberate. Silence settled over the room.
Sarah crossed her arms. "Yes, he uses a chair. So what? He's still the most powerful Alpha in Sunshine City."
Some of the men snorted. "Powerful? Eighty percent of injured Alphas lose their dominance in the bedroom."
"That poor mate of his," another added. "Bound to celibacy for life."
I nearly choked on my water.
Coughing hard, I felt heat climb up my neck. A colleague patted my back. "Vivian, what's wrong? Don't tell me the Alpha's scent got to you too."
Sarah laughed. "You should've seen her during the interview. She was nervous."
"I was not," I muttered quickly, avoiding their eyes.
But I had been.
Not because he was handsome.
Because every time he looked at me, something ancient stirred beneath my skin.
The rest of the week was chaos as we finalized the article. By the time the weekend arrived, exhaustion clung to me like fog. Still, I couldn't rest. I visited my mother at the hospital first, then returned to my apartment to pack.
Dragging this out would only make me seem hesitant. In pack culture, hesitation could be mistaken for rejection. And rejecting an Alpha even unintentionally was dangerous.
Finnick's estate stood at the edge of the city, modern glass and stone blending into old forest land. The air around it felt charged, as though the territory itself recognized its master.
Inside, the house was large but not crowded. Only two longtime pack members lived there Liam and Molly. Their scents were calm, loyal, old.
Liam carried my bags upstairs to the master bedroom.
Master bedroom.
The space was simple and modern. When I opened the wardrobe, half of it was already filled with his clothing dark suits, crisp shirts, the faintest trace of his scent lingering in the fabric. The other half was empty.
Waiting.
Understanding settled over me. We would share this room. Share territory. Share space.
Share everything.
I unpacked quietly.
By the time I finished, night had fallen. Finnick wasn't home yet. Molly served me spaghetti for dinner, her eyes warm but observant, as if assessing whether I would truly settle here.
After eating, I went upstairs to shower.
Steam fogged the bathroom mirror. The hot water helped calm my racing thoughts, washing away the tension of the week. When I finished and reached for a towel
Nothing.
I had forgotten to bring one in.
I cursed under my breath and cracked the bathroom door open slightly. The bedroom was dark and silent. No sign of him.
Taking a breath, I stepped out, water trailing down my skin as I hurried toward the wardrobe.
I had just reached inside when I heard it.
Click.
The unmistakable sound of the bedroom door opening.
I turned.
Finnick was there.
He had just entered, his chair gliding smoothly across the floor. His eyes locked onto me instantly.
We both froze.
For a split second, neither of us moved. His expression shifted from surprise to something darker, something instinctive. The air in the room thickened, heavy with tension.
My mind went blank.
Then I squealed and bolted toward the bathroom.
Big mistake.
Water I had dripped earlier slicked the floor. My foot slid out from under me.
"Careful."
His voice was low but sharp.
Before I could hit the ground, he maneuvered forward with startling speed. Strong arms caught me mid-fall, and suddenly I was seated in his lap, chest pressed against him.
His hands were warm against my damp skin.
Too warm.
For a moment, neither of us breathed. I felt it then the subtle shift beneath his calm exterior. The air between us pulsed. My pulse answered.
I lifted my head slowly.
His gaze had changed. It wasn't just a man looking at a woman.
It was an Alpha looking at his mate.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I knew that look. I had seen unmated females melt under it during pack gatherings.
But this was directed at me.
"Oh no," I whispered under my breath.
"S-sorry," I stammered, scrambling to get up. My palms pressed instinctively against his thighs for balance and I froze.
His muscles were firm beneath my touch.
Not weak. Not lifeless.
Strong.
The rumors from the office echoed in my mind, and shame burned through me for ever letting them plant doubt.
His hand tightened subtly at my waist, steady but not trapping. His voice dropped, softer now, threaded with something raw.
"Careful, Vivian," he murmured. "You're my mate. Don't run from me."