With their enemy finally in sight, the three new roommates could lock onto a plan.
For the first time in a long time, Ayla wondered if her curse wasn't as heavy as she'd believed—if maybe she wasn't cursed at all.
Alexander finally had a clear visual of one of the men following the sweet girl beside him.
Julius glanced at her and caught himself staring as her nearly white-blonde hair waved gracefully in the calming breeze that passed over them.
Shaking his head, Julius drew his attention back down to the people below.
The bulky, thick-muscled man there lit something ugly in his chest—hatred, yes, but also a fierce, grim kind of relief.
A bundle of emotions, both he and Alexander shared in that moment as they stood on either side of Ayla.
Fear poured off Ayla in quiet waves, and neither man needed to ask to know that the man below had hunted her longer than the rest.
"How long has he been after you?" Alexander asked, then corrected himself, eyes still on the man.
"Any of them?"
Her answer came too easily, flat, practiced—like she'd said it so many times she didn't have to feel it anymore
"As far as I know... since around the time I turned sixteen."
She lifted her shoulders, defeated.
That didn't tell him much because he didn't actually know how old she was now.
But the emptiness in her voice told him enough: it had been years.
Both men shook their heads, anger sharpening their features.
Neither could imagine what a girl so young could have done to earn a predator like him to hunt after her.
He looked like a beast—hard, mean, the kind of man the wrong side of town warned you about.
"I can't imagine how hard that was for you," Julius said before he could stop himself.
Ayla shoved the memories—the sprints, the hiding, the close calls—back into the dark corner of her mind and looked at Julius.
"It's fine," she blurted.
"Nothing I can change now. Besides, I'm one hell of a fighter and a phenomenal escape artist, if I do say so myself. If that man still hasn't caught me after all this time, I must be doing something right."
Julius blinked, caught off guard, and couldn't find a safe response—so he chose silence.
Alexander was impressed—and suddenly, fiercely protective.
The feeling of something missing crept over him again, as he caught her by the shoulder and pulled her into a warm hug—an unspoken promise that she wasn't alone anymore.
To his relief, she didn't fight him.
She sank into his chest as if she'd been holding herself upright by sheer will, and for a heartbeat her face softened into something like peace.
Ayla could feel it too, the sense of something missing, and she thought that his hold would help with it.
He knew trust wouldn't come just because time passed—not after everything she'd confessed—but he could still meet her fear with steady, relentless kindness while they proved themselves.
What they were currently doing would be a step in the right direction, he was sure of it.
A sense of unity settled over them—not just between Alexander and Ayla, but with Julius too—as she accepted him into the fold when he put his arm around the pair.
The three of them stood, her locked between the men, as Ayla looked from Alexander to Julius, a smile present from ear to ear.
When they realized they had taken their eyes off the man for a bit too long, they went to find him again, but he was gone.
Alexander began to panic.
"SHIT"!
How could he be so careless?
Ayla's thoughts sprinted in circles.
What if he'd seen them—or worse, heard them?
No.
Impossible.
They were too high up.
But could he have found them anyway?
Worst-case scenarios raced through all of them—until someone cleared their throat.
Alexander was trying to ease the tension.
"Let's not overthink it. If he'd found us, he'd be at the door by now. More or less."
Julius knew his friend was lying, but he let him keep going.
"He is probably just walking around the town," Alexander added, grasping for normal.
"Maybe he really is taking a break like he said."
That time, he didn't believe his own words.
"Yeah, right," Julius muttered.
When Alexander's serious gaze snapped to him, he hurried to soften it.
"You really think he'd be at our door if he's on vacation?"
They both knew the man couldn't get to their door.
Alexander just hoped Ayla wasn't paying attention to that part when he brought her there.
They were trying to guide her toward the elevator as the talked.
He fixed Julius with a warning look as his friend kept talking.
"That oaf is strolling around in leisure clothes," Julius said. "He's not worried about us. Still, we're not dropping our guard. All eyes stay on him. He doesn't get close to you, or us, or this apartment. Scout's honor."
Ayla's eyes lit up.
"Wait—were you two Boy Scouts? That explains so much. I can see it now. That's how you handled everything so easily out there—between the woods and the cave."
She chuckled.
Both men shook their heads, but Alexander spoke first.
"Don't get me wrong—I was definitely a Scout," Alexander said. "But that's not where I learned to survive like that."
Ayla studied him, curiosity sharpening her gaze.
"I spent long stretches out there on purpose," he said. "I trained myself to live off the land. Nature matters, and I don't like depending on towns and cities for everything. What we have isn't guaranteed. Any day, it could be taken."
Julius threw a hand in the air, then hit the button to return them to the apartment.
"Same here", he said with a grin.
"I did it too. We chose it, made it our training."
Ayla's eyes moved from man to man, 'Maybe these two are different after all," she thought to herself.
"I don't know what to make of you two," she said, smiling. "I've come across all kinds of people, but I've never seen anyone who comes off as this… selfless. Minimalistic. I guess I'll keep my eyes... and my mind... open."
Down below on the streets, Dominic was trying to ease his mind while taking in the sights again.
It was different this time, nothing like the nighttime experience he had.
The last time he ventured through, it was dark, lively, and frantic.
Littered everywhere with young, sex crazed, drunk members of the town.
Young, drunk partiers had spilled everywhere, loud and reckless.
Music had slammed into him as people surged past in every direction
That chaotic energy clung to him, needling his nerves until he felt raw.
He felt like he had stepped into the middle of a zoo.
Now, as he moved along the strip of shops, the town was calmer—almost relaxing.
Music still drifted from storefronts and speakers, but softer now—low and soothing.
Even the crowd had changed. Daytime walkers replaced the night swarm, and most looked closer to his "inner" age.
He looked mid-thirties—handsome, put together—but in truth he was closer to fifty.
Age wasn't something his community—the werewolf one—counted as important.
They celebrated new life, the unity of fated mates, and death—mostly.
For high-ranking officials, unity of any kind could be praised as "good for the pack," but only fated-mate unity was sacred.
Fated-mate ceremonies were massive celebrations that could last for days.
Sometimes multiple packs joined in.
But for the last eighteen years—maybe more—those kinds of unities had all but vanished.
The biggest reason was simple: the packs had no children of rank left to find their fated mates.
Their high-ranking children had been stolen from every pack. With them gone, there was nothing to celebrate.
No pack was in the mood to bargain or mingle while so much remained unknown, at least, not to the general communities.
Sure, small gatherings still happened, but it felt wrong when half of every pack was mourning missing children.
And after the children were taken, it seemed no more were born.
It was like time paused, and everything held its breath.
Werewolves everywhere prayed to the moon goddess to bring them home before their kind vanished for good.
That being said, they didn't celebrate much of anything, but birthdays were never celebrated.
Timekeeping and birthdays were human traditions.
Instead, Dominic trained.
He stayed strong.
He stayed ready.
Counting years meant little to him.
What mattered did natter to him was what he could protect, what he could rebuild, and repopulating.
He certainly enjoyed practicing making a baby, but he hadn't been able to in some time, and he did his best to keep himself distracted.
It only took a few things to keep his wolf truly healthy: balanced meals, a little sleep, good physical fitness, and a mind that didn't crack.
Intimacy helped their wolves—everyone knew that—but it wasn't something they discussed out loud.
Sometimes it even seemed to sharpen what they could do, but no one had ever proved it.
As long as he took care of himself and his wolf, his wolf took care of him in return.
It lent him a touch of youth—enough that strangers guessed him younger than he was.
It was a better way to live.
The old grump didn't care about numbers anyway.
He only cared about how he felt.
And lately, that wasn't so great.
All that mattered to him was getting their stolen children back and uniting all the families again.
That ache didn't ease as he stared at the toys lining the store
One aisle held clothes, shoes, and tiny accessories.
His throat tightened anyway.
He missed the smiles.
Missed the way the unity ceremonies made the whole pack feel alive.
More than that, he worried his son would never get to experience one.
He drifted to a wooden display rack of greeting cards. One row showed couples tangled in laughter, arms wrapped tight, "WEDDING" stamped beneath each glossy scene.
Below it, bright kid-themed cards marched in neat rows: "1," "8," "16," and "BIRTHDAY," all in loud colors that made his stomach turn
Dominic's chest cinched.
He needed out, that instance.
It wasn't only fated mates who felt the echo of a ceremony; the whole pack did.
But staring at these human milestones, Dominic could only think of what his people had been robbed of, and how powerless that made him feel.
Memories slid in anyway—ceremonies, music, the crush of bodies, the way joy used to roll through him like thunder.
For weeks afterward, everyone in both mate-bonded packs walked around brighter—laughing easier, fighting less, living more.
He missed that surge.
Missed the certainty of belonging when the bond clicked into place, and the pack celebrated like the world couldn't touch them.
And he was tired—bone-tired—of the hollow in his chest where part of his pack should've been.
Tired of wondering if his son would ever be allowed something as simple as joy.
Aggressively, Dominic shoved his way through the shop door, hitting the sidewalk hard, escaping to an empty alley like it could hide him from his own thoughts.
The old man just needed to breathe for a moment.
His mind yanked him backward, without his being able to control it.
He remembered overhearing Alpha Theo and Luna Theresa: We're running out of time. The words had dug in deep, pushing him to move faster, to take bigger risks.
Dominic didn't want to find out what would happen if he didn't get Ayla to his Alpha by the Wolf moon.
Before Dominic knew it, he was making his way back to his suite.
He almost made it—until he turned a corner and walked straight into someone.
"I didn't intend to see you anytime soon," Dominic said, his voice edged like a blade.
Julius was surprised, and his words matched his expression.
"I didn't think you intended to see me at all," he shot back.
Dominic's mouth tugged at one corner, like he was fighting a smile.
"Smug, aren't we?" Dominic asked, "What brings you over here?"
Julius didn't like the old man's tone, and he wasn't about to hand him anything useful.
"Just running errands," he lied, smooth as glass, "Didn't know you were staying in the area."
Julius took the opportunity to try to squeeze some information out of him.
"How long are you and your men going to be around?" Julius asked with a light chuckle, "So I can warn my bartenders and bouncers to stay alert."
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
That told him Julius knew the men didn't belong—and he was bold enough to say it to his face.
More than that, it notified him that they were being watched without him being aware of it.
For once, they might be the prey.
This young man might just be a worthy opponent.
Interesting.
"Trust me," Dominic said, exhaling hard,
"Those two won't be causing problems again—if I can even get them out of their room and away from their current distractions."
Julius drew a hand and placed it on his chin, causing Dominic to feel momentary concern.
"If you think they'll be an issue, I can tell them not to come back," he added.
Julius shook his head, answering Dominic.
"It's fine," Julius said. "You seem to keep them in line. I'm guessing you'll be with them if they do show up again." He offered a polite nod. "Enjoy your day, Mr…?"
The general hesitated.
Should he even give his name? Julius already seemed to know too much.
This kid seemed to know too much already.
"Just Dominic, no need for the mister. You don't owe me any pleasantries," he stated, extending his hand.
Julius didn't trust him, but he shook his hand out of respect anyway, refusing to look rude.
He didn't notice right away that Dominic was trying to intimidate him—the grip tightening, testing, waiting for a flinch.
Dominic kept squeezing, harder and harder, watching Julius's face for a crack.
It took everything Dominic had not to react—surprise, irritation, and the effort of holding his strength in check swirling together.
Julius didn't so much as blink.
Dominic kept his mask in place, but the certainty hit him hard: something wasn't right.
"I can't remember if I officially introduced myself, but my name is Julius" he said as he lowered his hand.
No attempt to keep his composure was working anymore, as Dominic crumbled.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that, " he said, the color draining from his face, "What did you say your name was?"
Julius was now getting rather irritated.
It was clear the old man was up to something.
"JULIUS," he repeated.
His voice was loud and stern, as he thought the man was being rude at first.
Dominic didn't say anything for a moment.
He just stood there, growing paler, as if he had swallowed something rotten.
"Are you okay?" Julius asked, wondering if the man needed medical attention.
Dominic took a step back—then another—angling toward his suite.
"No—yes. I'm fine," Dominic said too fast. "You were running errands. I don't want to hold you up. Go. We'll talk another time."
Julius watched him go, unsettled.
Something had shifted—and both of them had learned something.
His only question now was who'd come out ahead.
Immediately, he made his way as far from the hotel as he could, making sure he wasn't followed.
As soon as he was clear, he texted his best friend 'SOS'.
They'd agreed on it after a long conversation: a quick signal that one of them had sensitive information about Ayla and needed to talk immediately.
It didn't take long at all for Alexander to call him back, while on speaker phone for Ayla to hear right beside him.
"I'm cutting to the chase," Julius said. "The big guy's name is Dominic. The other two are… occupied right now, and he's trying to pull them back in line."
"That's good, though" Alexander encouraged him, "A name helps."
Julius kept talking.
"But here's the thing—Dominic is weird," he said.
"He talks like he can control them, no question. Like they have to listen. I've never seen anything like it."
Then he told them about how the encounter ended.
Neither Ayla nor Alexander knew how to make sense of what he said.
"What do you mean he freaked out when you told him your name?" Ayla asked.
Julius exhaled through his nose, like he could still see it.
"He went white," Julius said. "Like he was about to pass out. He couldn't get away fast enough. I don't know if it was my name or if he noticed something about me, I didn't—but it was strange."
Ayla leaned back on the couch and reached for Alexander's hand.
"I'm more confused now than when we started," she admitted.
"He's ferocious and relentless, but he cowers at a name? That doesn't fit— not after all the years he's chased me."
She squeezed Alexander's fingers.
"Either someone spooked him, or you're connected to something he's afraid of… and he just realized he crossed a line."
Alexander nodded his head in agreement.
Julius, unaware of the nod, could be heard through the phone.
"I wanted you both to have it while it's fresh," he said. "I'm heading to work."
Ayla wasn't sure of much, but she knew this was a mess that she didn't want to deal with currently as she buried her head in Alexander's chest.
"You smell so intoxicating," she let out as she inhaled deeply.
Meanwhile, in the suite, Dominic nearly collapsed onto his bed.
How could he be so close and so far at the same time?
He'd always known witches could be cruel. Downright evil.
But what he'd just confirmed was beyond anything he'd imagined.
He knew for a fact that the young man who had stood before him had absolutely no knowledge of being a wolf, but he was definitely a werewolf.
That young man was a werewolf walking among humans, living like one, and was completely oblivious.
Julius was cursed.
Dominic knew the signs because he was living that same curse.
It was more than just Ayla being a cursed werewolf; he had always known that.
Multiple werewolves were possibly living right there with the curse.
If he had known that major fact... if he'd just known, he could've searched differently—faster, smarter.
For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why his Alpha would keep such a secret from him and the rest of the pack.
For the life of him, he couldn't understand why his Alpha would hide that from him—hide it from everyone.
The community deserved the truth: their children were out there, unable to recognize their own kind—and that blindness was part of the trap.
Unless… Theo didn't know either.
Or was it because he wanted to get his claws on Ayla first and then let the cat out of the bag?
Until now, everything he had to go on was rumor or suspicion.
Now he'd stood face-to-face with one of the missing.
How do you bring a packmate home if they don't even know what they are?
And he didn't know what to do with it.
This was bigger than orders from an Alpha.
He had been working on this for too long to fail now.
Failure was not an option, not when the finish line was so close.
From day one, the goal had been to bring his son home.
Minutes ago, he'd been holding him by the hand.
His son wasn't a baby anymore.
He was a man.
Tears burned behind Dominic's eyes as he lay on the bed, suddenly emptied out.
His son—strong, capable—had been within arm's reach, literally in his grasp.
And Dominic could do nothing, because the man he'd just touched didn't know he was a wolf… and didn't know he'd just shaken his father's hand.
One thing made him feel a little better.
There was a chance that he wasn't alone in the world.
Maybe he and Ayla had found each other, and the two of them were finding a way to withstand this world together, in unity.
If that were the case, what would he do about the orders from his Alpha?