Chapter 137
Derek
I sat in the corner of the dining hall, picking at my roasted venison while Lyra chattered across from me. She was a first–year in Combat–young, eager, and
refreshingly easy to be around. No probing questions about where I’d been or who I’d talked to. Just wide–eyed admiration and the kind of laughing
attention that made a man feel good about himself.
‘So you’re really leaving in a few days?” She leaned forward, her expression genuinely disappointed. “Three whole months at the border?*
‘Practical combat training,” I said, letting my gaze drift around the room. The restaurant was one of the nicer places near campus–not fancy enough to break a student’s budget, but respectable. Celeste would’ve turned her nose up at it, of course. She always wanted the best tables, the finest wine, the kind of atmosphere that screamed status. Lyra, though? She’d been thrilled when I suggested meeting here.
That sounds dangerous, she murmured, eyes bright with concern that felt oddly flattering.
I shrugged, going for nonchalant. “It’s what we train for.”
She smiled at that, and I felt myself relax. This was simpler. No demands, no expectations beyond enjoying her company. Celeste had been getting clingy lately asking pointed questions about our future” and hinting that she wanted to make things official with her family. Lyra didn’t ask for anything except-
Movement near the back of the restaurant caught my eye.
I went still.
Alpha Regis Vane, the legend himself–youngest senior combat instructor in academy history, pure–blooded heir to one of the oldest families in the territory. I’d heard plenty about him from classmates who’d been lucky enough to get into his advanced sections, but I’d rarely been close enough to study him
properly.
He emerged from one of the private dining rooms, his posture as controlled and precise as I’d expect from someone of his reputation. The kind of presence that made other wolves instinctively step back.
But it wasn’t Alpha Vane that made my breath catch.
It was the woman beside him.
Eileen?
My mind stuttered, trying to reconcile what I was seeing. Eileen Wylde–quiet, nervous, no–wolf Eileen–walking beside Regis Vane like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hand rested at the small of her back, the touch so casual and familiar it could only mean one thing: this wasn’t their first time together. This was habit, Intimacy,
I watched, frozen, as he retrieved her cloak from a staff member and draped it over her shoulders with the kind of care you’d show something precious. He leaned down, murmuring something against her ear that made her cheeks flush pink even from this distance. She nodded, smiling up at him in a way I’d never seen her smile before–open, trusting, almost radiant.
My chest tightened with something I couldn’t name.
They moved toward the exit together, and I caught the way his fingers brushed her waist again, guiding her protectively through the door. Outside, a private carriage waited. Not an academy carriage. Not a hired cab.
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12:22 pmp pp.
Chapter 137
His carriage.
He handed her up first, following close behind, and the vehicle rolled away into the evening. The direction was wrong for campus housing.
‘Derek?‘ Lyra’s voice pulled me back. ‘Everything alright?”
I forced myself to look at her, to arrange my expression into something normal. “Yeah. Just thought I recognized someone.”
She followed my gaze toward the now–empty doorway, curiosity flickering across her features, but I picked up my wine glass and she let it drop.
My mind was spinning.
The rumors had been circulating for days–whispers that Alpha Vane carried the scent of a woman, that his usual razor–sharp focus in training sessions had softened around the edges. The prevailing theory was that he’d finally taken a high–born mate from one of the allied families. Someone appropriate for a
man of his station.
Not Eileen. Never Eileen.
The girl who’d followed me around for a year like a lost puppy. The no–wolf who’d stared at me with those big, hopeful eyes every time I deigned to speak to her. The one who’d practically begged for scraps of my attention.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.

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