The bus jolted as it pulled away from the curb, rain streaking down its windows like broken glass. Miranda sat near the back, clutching her worn bag in her lap. The hum of the engine drowned in the storm's fury outside, yet her mind was louder still.
Every blink, she saw him,every breath she felt the weight of his gaze.
Jeden Storm,Billionaire, Stranger,Predator.
Her heart shouldn't race at the thought of him. Men like him lived in towers of steel and power, while women like her scraped coins together for bread. Yet his words haunted her. You don't belong here… your eyes are too honest for this world.
Why would he say that? Why notice her at all?
She pressed her forehead against the cold glass. Maybe Pamela was right. Maybe she was imagining things.
By the time she stepped off the bus, the rain had slowed to a drizzle, leaving the streets slick and reflective. She hurried along narrow sidewalks, weaving past closed shops until she reached the old apartment building she called home.
The structure groaned under the years, its bricks weathered, its windows patched with tape. She climbed the cracked stairwell to the third floor, bracing herself for what awaited.
The moment she unlocked the door, voices crashed over her.
"You're late again!" her adoptive mother snapped, sitting on the worn couch with her arms crossed. "Do you think we feed you for free?"
Miranda swallowed her exhaustion. "I worked overtime. The hotel "Excuses." The woman's eyes narrowed. "Where's the money?"
Miranda slipped off her damp coat. "I'll get paid next week. I'll give you half my wages."
"Half?" Her adoptive father barked from the dining table, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "We raised you, girl. You think half is enough to repay all those years?"
Miranda's younger brother, Daniel, peeked out from the hallway. His expression carried the same weariness as hers. He was sixteen, still in school, but already burdened by their parents' greed.
Miranda reached into her bag and pulled out a folded envelope. "I managed to save a little extra." She handed it to her father.
He snatched it, counting quickly, then sneered. "Still not enough."
Her mother leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "You should be grateful we keep a roof over your head. If it weren't for us, you'd be rotting on the street like the orphan you are."
The words cut deep, as they always did. Orphan. Adopted. Unwanted.
Miranda forced her voice to calm. "I'll work more shifts."
Her mother smirked, satisfied with her submission. "See that you do."
Miranda escaped to her small room before the tears could rise. The walls were thin, the single bed pressed against peeling wallpaper. She closed the door and leaned against it, breathing shakily.
This was her life. Endless work. Endless debts. Endless chains.
She lay down, staring at the ceiling. But as her eyes drifted shut, the memory of gray eyes pierced her dreams.
Across the City
In the penthouse suite of Imperial Crown Hotel, Jeden Storm stood at the floor to ceiling window, the city sprawled beneath him like prey.
He hadn't intended to leave his room tonight. His schedule was tight, his empire demanding. But the moment he stepped into the lobby and saw her, everything changed.
Her scent had struck him first, warm, human, yet threaded with something rare. Something wolf.
His wolf stirred violently within, snarling against the chains of control. It had been years since the beast reacted this way. He thought the curse had burned out any chance of recognition, of connection. Yet one looked at that woman with tired eyes and honest heart, and his entire being roared: Mine.
He closed his eyes, pressing his hand against the cold glass. Memories clawed at him, his family's downfall, the curse of immortality that condemned him to endless nights, the betrayal that stole his bloodline's future.
He had sworn never to let a human close again. Humans were fragile, treacherous and temporary.
And yet
Her eyes are too pure and too open, they unsettled him and broke past his defenses like light piercing stone.
He should leave,he should pack his empire into jets and towers and flee this city before the beast inside him tore free.
But he didn't. He stayed.
Morning
Miranda rose before dawn, slipping into her uniform again. The apartment was quiet, her parents still asleep, Daniel gone to school. She made herself a cup of weak tea, forcing the warmth down her throat before heading back into the city.
The hotel looked like a palace when she arrived, sunlight glinting off its glass facade Inside the staff buzzed with nervous energy.
"Did you hear?" one whispered as Miranda passed.
"Mr. Storm is staying in the penthouse," another replied.
"They say he fired an entire board of directors in one day," a third added.
The rumors swirled, painting him as ruthless, cold, untouchable. Miranda kept her head down, but her chest tightened. She had seen him up close. She knew there was more beneath the steel.
At the reception desk, Pamela gave her a glare. "Don't embarrass yourself tonight. If Mr Storm comes down, keep quiet. Men like him don't talk to girls like you."
Miranda nodded, swallowing her protest.
By evening, the lobby was alive with wealthy guests for a private gala hosted by the hotel. Miranda managed the desk, checking invitations, smiling through exhaustion.
And then, the air shifted again.
She didn't need to look up to know. She felt him before she saw him.
Jeden Storm descended the grand staircase, dressed in black, every eye drawn to him. The crowd parted as if the storm itself walked among them. Women whispered, men stiffened. His aura was undeniable, both alluring and terrifying.
Miranda forced herself to look down at her ledger, her hands trembling. But a shadow fell across her desk.
She looked up.
He stood before her, his gaze locked on her as though no one else in the room existed.
"Miss…" He paused, his lips curving faintly. "What is your name?"
Her throat tightened. She had spoken to him before, but he hadn't asked. Now, with the entire lobby watching, his attention felt like a spotlight burning her skin.
"Miranda," she whispered.
The way he repeated it slowly, deliberately, like a secret sent shivers down her spine.
"Miranda," he said again, lower. "You shouldn't be here."
Her chest ached. "You keep saying that. But this is my job."
His jaw flexed For a second, his wolf pushed against his control, his gray eyes flashing darker, sharper. But then he leaned closer, his voice barely audible.
"You don't understand yet. But you will."
Before she could respond, a woman approached. Tall, stunning, with raven hair and diamonds dripping from her ears. She slipped her arm through Jeden's.
"There you are," she purred. "Come, they're waiting."
Miranda's stomach twisted, though she didn't know why. She had no claim on him. He was a stranger.
Still, the way he glanced back at her as the woman led him away made her breath catch.
As if he didn't want to go.
The gala stretched on like a performance Miranda wasn't meant to be part of. From her desk, she watched as glittering guests circled the ballroom, laughter and champagne filling the air. She tried to focus on her ledger, on the check-in sheets, but her eyes betrayed her, stealing glances toward him.
Jeden Storm.
Even surrounded by wealth and beauty, he stood apart. The raven-haired woman at his side laughed, clinging to him as though she owned him. Yet Miranda noticed something: his smile never reached his eyes. He spoke with precision, but his gaze wandered, scanning the room, searching.
And more than once, it landed on her.
Every time their eyes met, a shiver ran down her spine. She dropped her gaze quickly, afraid of what the other staff or worse, Pamela might notice.
By midnight, the last of the guests began to leave. The raven haired woman clung to Jeden's arm, whispering in his ear. He nodded absently, his attention elsewhere.
Miranda stacked documents, preparing to close the desk for the night. She was exhausted, ready to vanish into the shadows of the city.
"Miranda."
The voice froze her. She looked up.
He stood before her again. The woman was gone. His presence filled the empty lobby like thunderclouds rolling in.
She straightened. "Mr. Storm, do you… need assistance?"
"I need answers." His gaze pinned her. "Why are you here?"
Her lips parted. "I told you… this is my job."
"No," he said, stepping closer. "Not here. Not in this city. You don't belong among these vultures."
Confusion twisted in her chest. "Why do you keep saying that? You don't even know me."
His jaw tightened. For a moment, the mask of billionaire composure slipped, and something raw flickered across his face,pain, hunger, restraint.
"I know enough." His voice dropped to a whisper meant only for her. "Your scent… your eyes. They should not exist in this world, not without…" He stopped himself, shaking his head as though silencing a voice within.
Miranda's pulse hammered. "You're not making sense."
He leaned in, so close she caught the faintest trace of cedar and storm in his scent. "Stay away from me, Miranda. For your own safety."
Her breath caught. "If you don't want me near you, then stop coming to me."
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Bold. Dangerous. But it's true.
For the first time, his lips curved not in mockery, not in business politeness, but in something almost like admiration.
"You have fire," he murmured. "But fire burns, little one."
Before she could reply, heavy footsteps echoed across the marble.
"Storm."
The voice was sharp, male, dripping with venom. Miranda turned to see a man striding into the lobby. Broad shoulders, slicked hair, an expensive suit. His entourage trailed behind him, eyes cold, movements predatory.
Jeden's expression hardened instantly. The storm inside him shifted, rising.
"Victor," he said, his tone like steel.
The newcomer smirked. "Didn't expect to find you playing doorman to pretty little receptionists. Tell me, is she your new weakness?"
Miranda stiffened, realizing the man's gaze had landed on her like a wolf spotting prey.
Jeden moved before she could react, stepping into Victor's path, his frame shielding her. "She is not yours to look at."
Victor laughed, a dark, grating sound. "Ah. Then she is yours." His eyes gleamed. "Interesting."
The tension crackled, invisible yet undeniable. Guests had long gone; the staff had disappeared. Only Miranda remained, caught in the current of something larger than herself.
Jeden's voice was low, lethal. "Leave. Now."
Victor tilted his head. "Or what? You'll bare your teeth in front of her? Show her what you really are?"
Miranda frowned. What he really is?
Jeden's control wavered for a fraction of a second. His eyes darkened, a flash of silver gray too wild, too inhuman. His muscles tightened as if restraining something savage.
Victor saw it and smirked and leaned closer "Careful, Storm. Sooner or later, your beast will devour everything you try to protect. Including her."
With a mocking salute, Victor turned and strode out, his men following. The echo of their departure left silence heavy in the air.
Miranda's chest heaved. "What… what was that?"
Jeden turned to her, every line of his body taut with restraint. "A warning."
She shook her head. "That man he knew you. He knew something about you and your eyes
"Enough." His tone was sharp and cutting but beneath it was desperation. "Go home, Miranda."
Her voice cracked. "Tell me the truth."
He stared at her, torn. For one heartbeat, it seemed he might. His lips parted, words trembling at the edge.
Then he shut them, forcing the storm back behind his mask.
"Not tonight."
And he walked away, leaving her trembling in the hollow silence of the grand hotel.
Hours Later
Miranda lay in her narrow bed, unable to sleep. Every word, every glance, replayed in her mind. Victor's smirk. Jeden's fury. The flash of something inhuman in his eyes.
"What are you, Jeden Storm?" she whispered into the darkness.
For the first time, she feared the answer.
But deeper still, she feared how much she wanted it.
The Wolf's Struggle
In his penthouse, Jeden paced like a caged beast. The moon hung high, spilling silver light across the polished floor.
His wolf clawed inside him, restless, enraged.
She's ours. Claim her.
"No," he growled aloud, gripping the edge of his desk until it cracked beneath his hand.
She is the bond. The end of the curse.
"Or the beginning of her death."
The beast snarled, rattling his bones. He staggered to the mirror, gripping the sink as his reflection wavered. For a split second, fur rippled across his skin, fangs glinted in his mouth. He forced it back with sheer will, sweat dripping down his temples.
He had survived decades. He had buried lovers, crushed enemies, and endured loneliness. But never had the curse offered hope of release. Until her.
Miranda.
Her scent still lingered on his senses, soft and maddening. His wolf would never let her go.
But if he took her, if he bound her fate to his, the curse would awaken. And those who hunted him, like Victor, would hunt her too.
"Stay away, Miranda," he whispered, even as his chest ached with the truth. "Before I destroy you."
The Next Day
Miranda dragged herself through her shift, exhaustion written in her eyes. Pamela snapped at her twice for daydreaming, but she barely heard.
Her thoughts circled like restless birds. Victor's taunts. Jeden's warning. The way he shielded her as if her life mattered more than his empire.
That night, when her shift ended, she stepped into the rain slicked street. She hugged her bag close, hurrying toward the bus stop.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
"Miranda."
Her heart skipped. But it wasn't Jeden.
It was Victor.
He leaned against a lamppost, his smile sharp in the dim light. Two men flanked him, their eyes cold.
"You shouldn't walk home alone," Victor drawled. "Dangerous city."
Miranda froze. "What do you want?"
He stepped closer, circling her like a predator. "To understand why Storm guards you like treasure. What's so special about you, little receptionist?"
She stepped back, but the men blocked her path. Panic surged in her chest.
Victor's hand reached for her chin
And then a snarl split the night.
Gray eyes blazed from the shadows.
Jeden.
He moved with impossible speed, a storm unleashed. His fist struck one guard, sending him sprawling into the gutter. The other lunged, but Jeden caught him by the throat, hurling him against the lamppost with bone-shaking force.
Victor laughed, unshaken. "Ah, there it is. The wolf."
Miranda's eyes widened. Wolf?
Jeden's voice was a growl, barely human. "Touch her again and you die."
Victor smirked. "She'll know soon enough. You can't hide what you are forever."
With a mocking bow, he slipped into the night, his defeated men scrambling after him.
Silence fell, broken only by Miranda's ragged breath.
She turned to Jeden, her body trembling. His chest heaved, his jaw clenched, his eyes glowing with feral light.
"Wolf…" she whispered.
The word hung between them, dangerous and true.
Jeden closed his eyes, fighting the beast back. When he opened them again, the gray had softened, but the storm remained.
"You weren't supposed to know this way," he murmured.
Miranda shook her head, fear and fascination warring inside her. "What are you?"
He stepped closer, his voice rough, raw, stripped of all pretense.
"I am cursed, Miranda. Cursed to be both man and beast. And now…" His hand brushed the air near he
rs, trembling with restraint. "Now you are bound to that curse too."
Her breath caught. "Me?"
His gaze burned into her, desperate and resigned. "You are my mate."