Lara woke up before her alarm.
That alone annoyed her.
She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the hum of her fan and the faint sounds of traffic already starting outside. Her body felt tired, but her mind refused to settle.
Restless.
That was the only word for it.
She turned onto her side and reached for her phone. 6:12 a.m.
Too early.
She closed her eyes again.
And immediately, her mind replayed yesterday.
The meeting.
The silence.
That look.
She groaned softly and threw an arm over her face.
"Why am I like this?" she muttered.
It was just a man in a meeting.
She had seen powerful men before. Confident men. Intense men.
So why had that one stuck?
Her phone buzzed suddenly in her hand, making her flinch.
No message. Just a news notification.
She exhaled.
Okay. Enough.
If her brain wanted to be active, fine. She'd give it something else to focus on.
She scrolled to her contacts and pressed call.
It rang twice.
"Good morning, drama queen," came a sleepy voice.
Lara smiled despite herself. "Why do you sound like you swallowed sand?"
"Because unlike some people, I respect sleep."
"Rude."
A pause. Then, more awake now, "It's 6 a.m., Lara. Did someone die?"
"No," she said, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. "I just… couldn't sleep."
"Hm." He made a thoughtful sound. "Work stress or man stress?"
She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "Why does it have to be man stress?"
"Because when it's work stress, you send voice notes complaining. When it's a man, you call."
She laughed softly. "You're actually annoying."
"Thank you. I try."
His name was Tunde, and he had been her safe place since university. Loud, dramatic, brutally honest. He knew her patterns better than she liked to admit.
"So," he continued, "tell me about him."
"There is no him."
"Lara."
She sighed. "There was just this meeting yesterday. And this investor or CEO or whatever he is. And it was… weird."
"Weird how?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. "When I walked in, it was like the room shifted. And when I looked at him, it just felt…"
She trailed off.
"Felt what?"
She hesitated. The word sounded stupid even in her own head.
"Intentional."
Silence.
Then, softer now, less teasing, "Did he say anything to you?"
"No. I dropped the file and left."
"And you've been thinking about it since?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"Well," Tunde said finally, "either you're bored, or your intuition is trying to tell you something."
"Don't start."
"I'm serious. Sometimes your body notices things before your brain catches up."
She stood up and walked toward the window, pushing the curtain aside slightly. The street looked normal in the early morning light.
"I just feel unsettled," she admitted quietly.
"Okay," he said gently. "Then let's fix unsettled. Coffee after work?"
She smiled. "I was going to suggest that."
"Of course you were. I know you."
"After work?" she asked.
"Yes. And you're buying. Emotional support isn't free."
She laughed properly this time. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm supportive. There's a difference."
They talked a few more minutes — random gossip, a complaint about his neighbor, her reminder about a project deadline — and slowly, the tightness in her chest eased.
Normal conversation.
Normal life.
That's what she needed.
After they hung up, she stayed by the window for a second longer.
The restless feeling hadn't completely disappeared.
It had just… quieted.
Like something waiting.
Unseen.
Across the city, in a glass office high above the streets, Kieran stood near his own window.
He hadn't slept much either.
Not because he couldn't.
Because his wolf had refused to settle.
The bond had strengthened slightly overnight.
Faint.
But clearer.
She was awake.
He didn't know how he knew that.
He just did.
Marcus stepped into the office without knocking.
"You look like you didn't rest."
"I didn't need to."
Marcus raised a brow but didn't argue.
"I started the background check," he said. "Basic information is clean. No criminal record. No unusual activity. She keeps a small circle."
Kieran nodded once.
"Friends?"
"One close male friend. Name's Tunde. Works in fashion."
Kieran's expression didn't change.
But something inside him sharpened.
"Continue," he said calmly.
Marcus studied him carefully. "You're not going to do anything impulsive, right?"
Kieran looked back toward the city skyline.
"No."
But the word felt thinner than usual.
Because somewhere in that city, she was making coffee plans, unaware that her life had already intersected with something far older than she could imagine.
And the feeling she couldn't name?
It wasn't stress.
It was the beginning.