Third Person's POV Night fell heavy over the Duskgrave estate, cloaking the mansion in a silence that bordered on reverent. The moon hung low and pale above the rooftops, its light casting long, silver streaks over the carefully paved paths of the garden below. Inside, warm light spilled from the windows of the second floor. Shadows danced behind the velvet curtains, moving in and out of the frame like ghostly figures. Lucien stood quietly outside Riley's room, a steaming mug of warm milk in his hand. The rich scent of honey and wolfmint curled upward. His other hand hovered near the door, hesitating-just for a moment-before knocking softly. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. He frowned. Riley was rarely a deep sleeper, not with her instincts as sharp as they'd grown in recent weeks. He pressed the handle. The door opened easily under his touch. Inside, the room was still. Quiet. A soft golden glow from the bedside lamp bathed everything in muted warmth. There, at the far end, Riley stood in a white nightdress, her figure outlined against the glass of the tall windows. She stared out at the garden, unmoving, her long hair drifting slightly in the night air. Lucien's voice lowered. "Riley?" She didn't respond. Not a flinch. Not a breath of acknowledgment. Frowning now, Lucien crossed the room. He set the milk on her writing desk and moved toward her, the familiar tension of protective instinct pulling taut beneath his skin. "Riley," he said again, louder now, firm but gentle. "It's late. You should rest." Still nothing. Only the sound of wind brushing against the windowpanes. He reached out and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. Riley jolted like she'd been struck by lightning.Her body flinched away violently, and her injured leg gave out beneath her. She stumbled backward, off balance. Lucien caught her before she could fall, his arm snaking firmly around her waist. Her hands clutched instinctively at his chest as she looked up, eyes wide, wild with a panic he hadn't seen in weeks. The softness of her frame trembled against him, her scent laced with adrenaline and something deeper-fear. Not of him, but of something long-buried. They stood there in silence for several heartbeats, neither speaking. Only breathing. At that exact moment, a black Bentley pulled up outside the estate gates. The tires whispered across the gravel as the engine died. Two figures stepped out. Kael Vale. And Theo Hale. Both were wrapped in dark coats, their faces drawn. But when Kael looked up toward the second floor of the estate, his expression changed instantly. Behind the glass of the tall window, in the amber light of Riley's room, stood Lucien Duskgrave-his arm still wrapped around Riley's waist, their bodies close, too close. From that distance, it looked like an embrace. An intimate one. Kael's eyes widened. Rage exploded in his chest like wildfire. "Riley," he roared, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "You shameless thing-who the hell allowed you to live under his roof?" His shout echoed through the courtyard. Theo's head snapped up, his gaze following Kael's. He saw it too. The silhouettes. The closeness. The tension. His breath caught, jaw tightening as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. For a brief second, disbelief clouded his thoughts. But then came understanding-and with it, a complex storm of emotions he couldn't quite name. Still, Theo reached out and grabbed Kael's sleeve. "Wait. Calm down. You don't know the full story yet. There could be-" "Full story?" Kael's voice cracked with fury. "Theo, look at them! Are you blind?" Theo didn't answer. His eyes stayed on Riley's window.Inside, Lucien was already helping Riley steady herself. His hands had never strayed from respectful. But the scene had been witnessed-and misread. Kael, however, was beyond reason. He took a step toward the estate gates, pointing upward as his voice rose to a roar, fueled by years of guilt, confusion, and wounded pride. "Riley Vale, have you no shame left in your blood? Are you so desperate for a male that you'd throw yourself at a Stormridge Alpha like some heat-struck stray?" The words sliced through the night like a blade. Riley froze. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped breathing. The hatred in Kael's voice still rang in her ears, each word soaked in contempt, dragging her back into the years of humiliation, control, and whispered accusations that had once defined her life. Her fingers clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. But this time, she didn't shrink. She didn't run. She turned her head slowly toward Lucien, her brows furrowed, voice trembling-not with fear, but disbelief. "You're the Alpha?" she asked, voice low but sharp, almost a whisper. "The one from the rumors?" She stepped back half a pace, eyes narrowing as a bitter realization settled in her chest. "The one they say is ruthless-violent-and cursed? The very one the Vale family tried to force me into a mating alliance with?" Lucien didn't deny it. Instead, he took a slow step forward, his eyes locked onto hers, glowing faintly under the moonlight pouring through the window. "Yes," he said quietly. "That's me." A short, bitter laugh slipped from Riley's lips. She shook her head in disbelief, arms crossing protectively over her chest. "Well, isn't that something," she said, sarcasm laced with fatigue. "We almost went on a matchmaking meeting. Vale politics nearly married me off to the big bad wolf." Lucien's mouth curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Then maybe," he said, voice low and sure, "that was the only intelligent decision the Vale family ever made." Riley blinked, caught off guard. He stepped closer, the storm in his eyes softening-just slightly. "Because I would have never let them hurt you again, Riley. Not once. Not if you'd been mine." Lucien turned slowly toward the window, still standing protectively in front of Riley. His face remained calm-but the air around him shifted. Power pulsed in the room. The Alpha's aura rising. Riley, breathless, leaned heavily against the edge of the windowpane. She didn't speak, didn't shout back. She didn't need to. Because this wasn't the girl Kael Vale had once known. This was the woman who'd survived betrayal, captivity, and the slow rot of abandonment. Lucien stepped forward, drawing the curtain closed with a quiet finality. Outside, Kael stared at the closed window as if it had personally insulted him. Theo placed a hand on his shoulder. But Kael shrugged it off, eyes burning red under the moonlight. "He's seducing her. Manipulating her. Just like all those other wolves before him." Theo said nothing. Because deep down, a single thought was taking root-one he hadn't wanted to consider. What if Lucien wasn't manipulating her? What if she had chosen him?