Rox POV

Amy was right—I am a homebody. I like my peace and quiet, which is why I bought the most secluded house deep in the forest of Eirindral. Nature is my escape.

Sitting on my back porch with a hot cup of cocoa and a grilled cheese, listening to the rain and watching the waterfall in the distance—that’s my happy place.

Small talk and constant smiling? They drain me. I’m friendly, sure, but people wear me out.

No one knows I’m a Volana wolf, and that’s how it has to stay. We’re hunted and bred for our power, so I’ve kept it hidden my whole life.

The week leading up to the Lycan King’s arrival blurs together with constant planning and meetings. I barely have time to breathe between organizing events, coordinating my team, and reviewing every detail to make sure nothing is missed.

By the time I get home each night, I crash on my couch, too tired to think.

“Maybe you feel this way because we don’t have a mate,” Mist, my wolf, chimes in one evening, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Where have you been?” I snap. “It’s probably your fault I’m this exhausted.”

“Sure, blame me. But I’ve got a good feeling about tomorrow,” she says lightly before retreating again.

Mist is strong-willed and sharp-tongued. She doesn’t back down, not even with me. Her comment lingers, though. What did she mean by that?

I’ve never cared much about finding a mate—maybe because I’ve never met mine.

The next morning, I wake early, ready for the day. After going through my routine, I dress in a silk button-up tucked into flared suit pants with heels that I already regret putting on. I head over to the pack house, finalize last minute details and do a once over on myself. Clipboard in hand, I gather my team and prepare for the king’s arrival.

“Alright, everyone. They’ll be here any minute—they’ve already crossed the pack checkpoints. First up is the elder lunch. Let’s get that going while I settle our guests into their rooms,” I say, my tone focused and professional.

The sleek black vehicles rolled up the driveway, one by one. The King and his entourage were exactly as the rumors described—tall, muscular, and dangerously alluring. They exuded raw power and an unspoken authority with how they looked.

My breath hitched when I saw him through the rolled-down window. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine for a moment before shifting away, but even that fleeting glance sent a jolt through me. Was that the king?

When I stepped forward to greet them, as they got out of their vehicles and stepped forward, I fought to keep my voice steady.

There he was. The king. His golden hair was perfectly styled in a way that seemed both deliberate and effortless, framing rugged features that looked carved by the gods themselves. His tailored shirt hinted at the powerful build beneath, the fabric straining just slightly at his shoulders and chest.

I extended my hand to him, after greeting the others that came with him, praying he wouldn’t notice the slight tremor. His large hand enveloped mine, firm yet warm, and the contact sent a spark through my entire body. I felt heat creep up my neck as our eyes met again. His gaze lingered a second too long, and something unreadable flickered in those striking eyes. Was it curiosity? Amusement? Desire?

"Hello, everyone. My name is Rox Kenway, and I’ll be your guide today. Let me help you get settled in," I said, managing to sound calm despite my racing heart.

As I led the group on the tour, I caught him stealing glances at me. When I turned to explain something, his gaze shifted, but not before I noticed how intently he had been watching. His focus was almost unsettling, like he was studying me, peeling back layers I wasn’t sure I wanted exposed.

Stop staring at him. This is ridiculous. My inner voice scolded, but my traitorous eyes didn’t listen. His shirt clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, and I found myself wondering what lay beneath it. My thoughts betrayed me further, drifting to how those strong hands might feel on my skin. What he’d look like shirtless, what was underneath his pants.

"What is wrong with me?" I muttered to myself as we approached his room. 

I opened the door with a professional smile. "Your Majesty, we saved the best for last. I hope this meets your expectations."

I handed him my business card. "Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything to make your stay more comfortable."

He took the card, his fingers brushing mine ever so slightly. "Thank you, Ms. Kenway," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. "I’ll keep this handy."

I nodded and as I turned to leave, his voice stopped me again.

"Ms. Kenway, could you share your cellphone number as well? It might be easier to reach you directly."

He handed it back to me and smiled. Caught off guard, I nodded and quickly jotted down my number on the back of the card, giving it back to him.

"Alright I’ve just sent you a message so you’ll have my number too."

I nodded and smiled, then turned to leave.

When I walked downstairs, my mind was a mess. His commanding presence lingered, his scent—something woodsy and masculine—still clinging to the air. I couldn’t shake the way he’d looked at me, like he saw far more than I was willing to show.

"What are you doing? You barely know him!" I scolded myself. But even as I tried to focus on my duties, my mind wandered back to those eyes, that voice, and the way his shirt hugged his frame.

"Mist, say something. Please. Help me stop thinking about him," I begged my wolf.

Her response was maddeningly indifferent. "What’s there to say? You’re clearly enjoying this."

I groaned inwardly. "This is going to be a long day."