Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The beginning of an obsession

Lucian’s POV

I leaned into the cracked mirror, dragging a comb through my hair. I smoothed the gel down, forcing the strands into a tight slick-back. It had to be perfect.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

Ragnar’s voice echoed in the small room as he kicked the door shut. He stared at me, his eyes traveling from the gel bottle to my head. "Why is your hair like that?"

"None of your business," I muttered, my fingers working to keep every hair in place.

Ragnar crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you going somewhere important?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. I didn’t look away from my reflection. "To see my mate."

"To see your what!" Ragnar’s jaw dropped.

I finally turned to face him. "I know it sounds crazy. It’s early, I get it. But the woman I saved the other day? She’s the one." The smirk stayed on my lips, but my heart hammered against my ribs. "I’ve never felt a pull like this. I’m drawn to her in a way I can’t explain."

Ragnar just stood there, his mouth slightly parted as he struggled to find words.

"I guess the Moon Goddess finally found a way to punish me," I said, my smile fading into a grim line. "Getting me a mate who also happens to be the ex-wife of my arch-enemy." I spat the words out. "I fucking hate Aiden."

"Wait... hold on." Ragnar shook his head, blinking rapidly. "You have a mate, and it’s the woman you saved? An Omega?"

"Worse," I corrected. "A wolfless Omega."

"That’s pathetic," Ragnar scoffed. I felt my wolf surge, a low growl starting in my throat. My fist clenched white at my side. "I mean, if you were finally going to get a mate, it should have been a Beta, not some secondhand—"

In a flash, I was across the room. I slammed him against the doorframe, my hand clamping around his jaw and squeezing until his teeth clicked together.

"Watch your fucking mouth," I hissed, my eyes narrowing. "Don’t you dare disrespect her."

I held him there for a beat longer than necessary before shoving him away. Ragnar stumbled, rubbing his face.

"This isn’t good, Lucian," he said, his voice lower now. "You barely know her and you’re already acting like this. We have a mission. We’re supposed to stick together, not have you chasing Aiden’s ex. Do you know how fucked up that is? You’ll be tied to him forever if you go through with this."

He was right. Every word he said was the truth, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t tell my wolf to stop. He lived in my head, pacing, howling for her. It was why I couldn’t control myself earlier. It was why I’d held her so tight.

"You don’t have to worry," I said, turning back to the mirror. I forced my voice to stay level, trying to convince both of us. "I’m still the same person. I just need to... get her out of my system, I guess."

I looked at my reflection—the polished hair, the desperate attempt to look like someone he could trust. It felt ridiculous.

"And this stupid hair," I added, reaching up and violently ruffling the slick strands until they were a mess again.

Ragnar let out a dry, short laugh, the tension in the room finally breaking.

"I’m glad you’re on the same page," Ragnar said, leaning back. "The bags are set. Our men managed to slip past the wolves guarding the perimeter this time."

I gave a short, stiff nod. My mind was already blocks away. "That’s good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more havoc to cause."

Ragnar smirked, clearly thinking I was heading out to break bones or burn a warehouse. I let him believe it. I slipped out of the house and navigated toward the city center. Finding her wasn’t difficult; her face was plastered across the local news and social media—the "Placeholder Luna." I stared at the screen of my phone for a moment, my thumb brushing over her image.

Not for long, I thought. That title is about to change.

I stood outside the bakery, my shadow stretching across the pavement. I hesitated. If I went in, I risked being recognized, and the last thing I wanted was to bring my chaos into her sanctuary. But the pull was too strong. My wolf was practically clawing at my throat to get to her.

I pushed the door open, the chime of a bell mocking the dark thoughts in my head.

"What can I get you, sir?" a waitress asked. She gave me a polite, practiced smile.

"Anything," I said, not even looking at the menu.

She scurried off. I sat by the window, my eyes scanning every inch of the cafe, waiting for a glimpse of her. When the food arrived, I took one bite and immediately pushed the plate away. A wave of irritation washed over me. Being surrounded by these oblivious, chattering people gave me an itch I couldn’t scratch. My fingers drummed against the table. I wanted to see blood on the floor, to clear the room—but I wouldn’t stain her floors with such useless lives.

Then, the back door swung open in a speed of light.

Alina stepped out, and the world seemed to grind to a halt. The noise of the coffee machines and the chatter of the customers faded into a dull hum. It was just her. The way she moved, the scent of flour and sugar clinging to her... it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

She walked straight toward my table, her expression guarded.

"What do you want?" her voice rang out, clear and sharp in my ears.

I didn’t even have to think. I looked up at her, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"You."

Her brow furrowed into a deep frown, and she stepped back as if I’d struck her.