Mia woke up before dawn on Friday, her heart beating with restless excitement. The soft glow of the rising sun spilled through her curtains, painting her small apartment in shades of gold and rose. She lay there for a moment, listening to the faint hum of the city coming to life outside, before finally sitting up. Today wasn't just another day at work. Today, she was going to Spain—with Ryan.
Her hands trembled a little as she pulled her suitcase from the corner of her room. Clothes were already laid out neatly on her bed: a few professional outfits for the meetings Ryan had mentioned, a couple of casual dresses, her favorite pair of jeans, and a light jacket in case the evenings in Spain grew chilly. She packed carefully, folding each item with precision, as if the act itself could calm her racing thoughts.
Spain. She whispered the word to herself like it was a secret prayer. She had never been outside her country, never even imagined she would one day walk the streets of a place she had only seen in books and films. And yet, here she was, about to embark on such a journey—not alone, but with Ryan.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it. A video call from Rachel lit up her screen. Mia answered, and her best friend's smiling face appeared.
"Look at you!" Rachel teased. "You're glowing. Don't even try to deny it."
Mia laughed, shaking her head. "It's too early for this."
"Too early? Girl, you're about to fly to Spain with the most handsome man alive. Do you know how many women would trade places with you right now?"
Mia rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her blush. "It's just a business trip."
Rachel smirked knowingly. "Business trip, my foot. Don't be surprised if he sweeps you off your feet under the Spanish moonlight. Just imagine it—flamenco music in the background, him looking at you with those eyes, and then—"
"Rachel!" Mia interrupted, her cheeks burning. "Stop it."
Her friend laughed until her fiancé called from the other room, and with a final wink, Rachel ended the call. Mia stared at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers brushing lightly against the wolf-shaped necklace resting against her collarbone. Could Rachel be right? No, it was impossible. Ryan was her boss. He had responsibilities . Why would he see her as anything more than his assistant?
Still, the thought lingered in her chest like an ember refusing to die.
---
Ryan, meanwhile, was in his office at the pack house, finishing the last of his reports before leaving. The rogues had been restless lately, and although he had handled the recent attacks, a few had slipped away. He trusted his men to keep watch while he was gone, but the Alpha in him hated leaving when there was unfinished business.
Yet, when he thought of Mia, everything else seemed to quiet. The image of her bright eyes, her laughter, the softness in her voice—it filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in years. This trip wasn't just business. For him, it was the chance he had been waiting for. He would confess his feelings, show her that she wasn't alone, that she was his.
He glanced at the small box tucked safely into his bag. Inside was a ring, simple but beautiful, chosen with Mia in mind. He wasn't sure when or how he would give it to her, but he knew one thing: by the end of this trip, she would know his heart.
---
The airport buzzed with life by the time Mia arrived, suitcase in hand. Travelers hurried past, announcements echoed overhead, and the scent of coffee drifted from a nearby café. She stood near the check-in counter, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Ryan.
And then she saw him.
He walked toward her with effortless confidence, dressed in dark jeans and a fitted shirt that somehow made him look both casual and impossibly commanding. His eyes found hers instantly, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them.
"You're early," he said with a faint smile, taking her suitcase from her before she could protest. "Good. I was worried you might oversleep."
Mia laughed softly. "I've been awake since dawn. Too excited to sleep."
He looked at her for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze, before he turned to the counter. Together, they checked in, moved through security, and found their gate. Along the way, Mia caught the curious glances of strangers. A few whispered to each other, smiling knowingly. She realized what they must see: a young couple traveling together, his hand brushing lightly against the small of her back as they walked, his steady presence never leaving her side.
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn't pull away.
On the plane, Mia sat by the window, her heart pounding as the engines roared to life. She had never flown before, and as the plane began to accelerate down the runway, her fingers gripped the armrest tightly.
Ryan noticed. Without a word, he reached over and covered her hand with his. His touch was warm, steady, grounding. She glanced at him, and he gave her a reassuring smile.
"Relax," he said softly. "I've got you."
And somehow, that was enough. The plane lifted into the sky, the city shrinking beneath them, and Mia's breath caught at the sight of the endless horizon. She turned to Ryan, wanting to share her awe, but found him watching her instead. His expression was gentle, almost tender, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
Hours passed. They talked, they laughed, and at one point, Mia dozed off, her head resting against Ryan's shoulder. He didn't move. Instead, he adjusted slightly to make her more comfortable, his gaze lingering on her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. His chest tightened with emotion, and his wolf stirred within him, whispering the truth he already knew—she was his.
---
Spain welcomed them with warmth and vibrancy. The air carried the scent of the sea, mingling with spices and flowers from the bustling streets. Mia's eyes widened as she took it all in—the colorful buildings, the music drifting from open windows, the laughter of people enjoying the late afternoon.
Their hotel was breathtaking, with marble floors and sweeping views of the city. Mia hesitated at the sight of the luxurious suite Ryan had booked, her fingers twisting nervously around her necklace.
"Ryan, this… this is too much," she murmured.
He looked at her, his eyes soft. "Nothing is too much for you."
Her heart stumbled in her chest, and she quickly looked away, pretending to busy herself with her bag. Later, as they shared dinner on the hotel's terrace, the golden light of the setting sun bathed them both. Mia listened to Ryan speak about the meetings ahead, but her mind kept wandering. The way his eyes caught the light, the quiet strength in his voice—it was hard to focus on anything else.
At one point, their hands brushed as they reached for the breadbasket. The contact was brief, but it sent a rush of warmth through her. She pulled back quickly, hiding her fluster behind a sip of water.
Ryan noticed, of course. He noticed everything about her. But he didn't push. He simply smiled, a small, secret smile, as if he was waiting for the right moment.
---
That night, Mia lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She could hear the faint sounds of the city outside—cars, laughter, distant music. And yet, her thoughts were filled only with Ryan. His smile. His touch. His words. Was she imagining things, or did he truly feel the same?
She turned on her side, clutching her necklace. For so long, she had been alone. For so long, she had dreamed of belonging somewhere, to someone. Could it really be possible that her dream was within reach?
Meanwhile, Ryan stood on the balcony of his room, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He looked out over the city lights, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought of Mia, of the way she had fallen asleep against him, of the way her eyes had lit up when she saw Spain for the first time.
His hand brushed against the small box in his pocket. Not yet, he told himself. But soon.
For now, he would let her enjoy this trip, let her see how much she meant to him through every action, every word, every moment. And when the time was right, he would tell her. He would make her his, not just in heart, but in every way that mattered.
But in the shadows of his mind, the reminder lingered: the rogues were still out there. Danger still lurked, waiting. He clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. No matter what came, he would protect Mia. Nothing would take her from him.
Not now. Not ever.
And so, under the Spanish night sky, two hearts beat restlessly—one filled with longing, the other with determination—both unaware of just how much their lives were about to change.