Isaldora was leaning back in the leather seat of her car, one leg crossed over the other, her boot tapping against the floor. She wore a bold burgundy blazer hugging her shoulders, with gold embroidery giving it an elegant touch. Underneath was a fitted beige crop top that framed her perfectly. The matching skirt rode high, showing just enough of her long, toned legs. Her hair was pinned to one side in glossy waves, two jeweled pins gleaming, perfect adornments.
Beside her, Renna sat proper as ever, hands folded neatly in her lap.
They were on their way to Duskhowl. Two days ago, Isaldora had told her assistant to set up a meeting with Kaelith, and, to her mild surprise, his secretary had answered almost instantly. And the decided meeting spot? To her amusement, it was none other than the royal palace of Duskhowl itself.
The moment the car crossed into Duskhowl territory, the atmosphere shifted. The ground itself felt alive, thrumming faintly with old magic. Isaldora smirked.
As the car rolled into the courtyard, her eyes caught a glint of something in the ground, and her smirk turned dark.
She stepped out of the car as they came to a stop at the palace steps. Her hair danced in the air as she looked around.
She could see children running through the far courtyard, their laughter booming in the air. For a heartbeat, her gaze lingered on them before she averted it.
She saw a tall man approaching them from the stairs above.
"Miss Aether," he greeted, with a nod. "I'm Lucien, secretary to Mr. Bane. Welcome."
She gave a small nod. "I assume you chose this location."
"I did. But it was Mr. Bane who decided it; he prefers his negotiations close to home."
"Of course he does," she muttered.
Lucien gestured them to follow him inside. The palace was everything she expected—the typical—gilded ceilings, portraits of the dead, history dripping off every wall.
Behind her, she could feel Renna's awe; she was practically gawking like a kid in a candy shop. Without looking back, her voice interrupted her. "Stop gawking."
As if caught doing something illegal, Renna blinked, "Right. Sorry."
Isaldora didn't bother replying, but she almost laughed at how Renna always reacted to her.
They were about to turn by a corner when— "Renna." A man's voice cut them from behind.
Isaldora paused mid-step, one brow already twitching up at the mention of her secretary's name. She glanced at Renna, who'd gone full statue mode—barely breathing, fingers twitching like she'd just been caught stealing.
Isaldora's gaze flicked to the man and then between them. He was clearly a werewolf. Since when does Renna know a werewolf? she thought, intrigued.
"Xavier?" Renna whispered so softly that Isaldora almost rolled her eyes.
Next second, the Xavier guy—closed the distance in two strides and scooped Renna into his arms, kissing her like the world was ending. And Renna—stiff, proper little Renna—was kissing him back just as hard, matching him move for move.
She honestly didn't know Renna had it in her. She'd never once seen her dating, let alone making out like a romcom heroine. Amusing didn't even cut it.
Clearly, the two had forgotten she was standing right there.
The way this Xavier was clinging to Renna, all teeth and claim, had her brow arching. Oh. So that's what this was. Renna must be Xavier's mate.
Then she cleared her throat, loud and slow on purpose.
Renna yelped and jerked back like she'd been electrocuted, face redder than wine. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, nearly tripping over her own heel. While Xavier let out a low growl, not liking the space Renna had just put between them.
Isaldora tilted her head, fighting a laugh. "Well," she drawled, lips curving, "that was… quite the performance."
Renna's mouth opened, closed, then opened—then shut again like a fish.
Xavier, on the other hand, didn't give a damn. Not even a flicker of shame. He just brushed his thumb across Renna's lip, slow, smug, before finally stepping back.
"Apologies," he said smoothly.
Yeah. No. Not sorry at all.
Isaldora's smirk deepened as she turned on her heel. "Sure you are," she tossed over her shoulder, already walking away. Renna scrambled after her, Xavier's gaze burning holes into her back the entire way.
As they stepped into the living room, her eyes landed on the man sprawled across the deep leather couch—Kaelith Duskbane.
He wasn't in his usual tailored suits. Instead, he wore a fitted black shirt under a blazer and dark denim jeans, casual, but somehow he looked more dangerous like that. His presence screamed power, dominance and authority.
And damn if he wasn't unfairly handsome. Her chest tightened before she forced a slow breath. Not this again, she groaned inwardly.
Kaelith rose as soon as she walked in, eyes dragging over her like he had the right and all the time in the world. He didn't bother hiding it—he was drinking her in, every curve, every ounce of that quiet dominance she wore like a second skin. His wolf rumbled low in approval.
When his assistant had told him Isla wanted a meeting, he hadn't hesitated. Perfect. He'd been waiting for this. He wanted to test a theory that had been gnawing at him ever since their last run-in. The pull, the heat, the way his damn chest wouldn't settle around her—that didn't just make sense. And hell, all signs pointed to one thing. What if she was his mate? Sure it was a hunch, but still—what if she was his mate?
He caught her looking at him longer than necessary, her gaze lingering before she snapped it away. His lips curved into a cocky smirk.
"Welcome, Ms. Aether," he drawled, extending his hand. "Didn't think we'd be seeing each other this soon."
Isaldora's eyes flicked to the offered hand. She already knew what that touch did to her—how it lit her skin up in a way she couldn't stand admitting. Still, she played it cool, sliding her hand into his for the briefest shake before pulling back like nothing.
The second she let go, she heard an almost inaudible growl slipping out of him making her arch her brow.
Now what the hell was that about?
"Nice to see you, too, Mr. Bane. I did say we'd meet again." She said with a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.
Kaelith motioned to the couch opposite him for her to take a seat. Then his eyes flicked slightly to Xavier, who was stiff as a damn statue beside the brunette who came with Isla. His Beta looked… off. Distracted as hell. Kaelith shot him a look that basically screamed, What the fuck's wrong with you?
But was his beta clocking him? No—his eyes were glued on the brunette, who surely looked like she was about to combust from nerves.
Kaelith rolled his eyes internally and zoned them out, turning back to the woman in front of him.
"Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?" His tone was casual, but his eyes didn't leave her.
Isaldora's eyes swept around the room with casual scrutiny before landing back on him and she smiled.
Damn—did it mess with him.
"Oh, don't bother. I'm good." Her voice was velvet, smooth as hell, as she leaned back a little.
Right then, she clearly noticed his eyes glazing for a brief second—before they returned to his normalcy and then his secretary quietly dipped out, the others following.
"This place has a vibe," she said, sounding as casual as possible.
Kaelith gave a half-smile, almost boyish. "We just try to hang on to what's ours."
She nodded, then leaned forward slightly. "Well," she said, flipping the switch into business mode. "I'm planning to open a branch for a new perfume line. I was hoping to have your assistance."
Kaelith tilted his head slightly, unsure where this was going. "And how exactly can I assist you in that?"
"I need a location. And I was considering acquiring a piece of land in Duskhowl sounded legit."
Kaelith blinked, not expecting that.
"That's... interesting," he said after a pause. "But why Duskhowl? You could start anywhere."
Isaldora noticed the slight surprise on his face and offered a smirk.
"Duskhowl is a prominent territory. Strategically placed. And a powerful name backing the launch always helps." She paused, eyes gleaming. "Besides… weren't you the one who suggested collaboration?"
Kaelith leaned back, studying her. That damned secretive smile of hers, the way she arched her brow again and again—it was hard to tell whether she was challenging him or teasing him. Probably both. This woman was hiding something, despite that he couldn't help the way his lips curved.
"I did," he said, his voice rich with amusement. "But I didn't expect you to take me up on it so soon."
"I don't waste time when I see an opportunity." She smiled again, folding her hands gracefully in her lap. "Pitter-patter delays only bore me."
Kaelith chuckled under his breath. "Impressively strategic... for someone so young. But again, Aether is surely full of mysteries."
The mood between them shifted subtly. They stared at one another for a fraction.
"So," Isaldora said, cutting cleanly back to business, "do we have a deal?"
Kaelith was still caught in the subtle twist of her gaze, the sharp way she spoke, as though she never wasted a word. He was too busy noticing the way her eyes were roaming over him before she averted them, realizing too late that she'd stared. And did he feel a satisfactory giddiness?
"We have a deal," he said finally as he noticed a knowing smile kissing her lips.
Isaldora rose already rounding the corner, "Perfect. I'll have the papers ready. I hope you'll find me a location that suits the stature of our collaboration." And stopping before him. She extended her hand.
Kaelith tensed slightly at the proximity. Her perfume hit him—dark, floral, like roses left out under the moon, laced with secrets. It made his wolf stir restlessly.
He reached for her hand, ignoring the twinge of tension that coiled in his chest.
Isaldora held her smirk, eyes locked on his.
She then noticed Kaelith's eyes glaze again, and he turned to her after they turned normal.
"Care to join me for lunch, Ms. Aether?