Sera's Pov
He was real.
Lucian was real.
The weight of that realization sent a shudder through my body, every inch of me buzzing with raw, unfiltered emotion.
Happiness. Relief. Disbelief. Confusion.
For so long, he had only existed in my dreams—a phantom lover, someone I had known with every fiber of my being but could never find in real life. And yet, here he was. Standing before me. Breathing. Alive.
My mate.
The mate I had waited my entire life for.
The mate I had searched for, longed for—had spent countless days wondering about, aching for.
The bond between us slammed into me like a crashing wave, thick and electric, stronger than anything I had ever imagined. It called to me, demanded my attention, wrapping around my senses like an invisible chain.
I could feel him—his presence, his essence, his power. It was overwhelming, drowning, suffocating.
And yet…
Something felt off.
Because while I was frozen, reeling from the connection, he wasn't looking at me.
At least—not anymore.
For a single, fleeting moment, when our eyes first met across the room, his reaction had been visceral. His body tensed, his breath hitched, and something flashed across his face—recognition. Shock. A flicker of something deeper, something primal.
But then—just as fast as it had appeared—it was gone.
His expression closed off, his gaze hardened, and suddenly… I didn't exist.
I blinked. My heartbeat pounded against my ribs, confusion swirling in my chest like a storm.
Why wasn't he reacting?
Why wasn't he coming to me, acknowledging me, claiming me?
Lucian had always been gentle and warm in my dreams. Playful. Protective. Mine.
But the man standing at the head of the room now?
He was cold.
Distant. Unfeeling.
It was like staring at a stranger.
My fingers curled into my lap, nails biting into my palm as I tried to rationalize it. Maybe—maybe he was in shock. Maybe he needed time. Maybe he didn't know what to do in front of all these people.
Yes. That had to be it.
Because the alternative—the idea that he was purposefully ignoring me, that he didn't want me—was too painful to consider.
A murmur spread through the hall, breaking my thoughts. I forced myself to breathe, to focus, to remember that we were still in the middle of something important.
The world meeting of Alphas.
Lucian strode to his seat at the center of the elevated platform, exuding dominance, his every step measured, powerful, commanding.
Every wolf in the room lowered their heads in submission, their bodies stiff with respect.
I didn't.
Not because I wasn't respectful—but because I was still too stunned, too fixated on him, too caught in the chaos of emotions unraveling inside me to think about protocol.
His dark, unreadable eyes flicked to me for half a second—then moved on.
I clenched my jaw.
Fine.
If he wanted to act like he didn't know me, if he wanted to pretend that he didn't just feel what I felt, then so be it.
I could wait.
The meeting began, the discussion quickly turning to the reason they had all been called here—the coup.
Tension thickened the air as Alphas from various packs took turns speaking.
"We cannot afford to be reckless about this," Alpha Vaughn of the Shadowfang Pack said, his voice measured. "Declaring war before we have solid proof would be foolish. We need more information."
"We don't have time for more information," another Alpha countered. "Whoever is behind this is already making their move."
"Which is exactly why we must be careful," Vaughn shot back.
My father remained silent, listening, his expression unreadable.
Lucian, too, said nothing. He sat back in his chair, his fingers loosely curled over the armrests, watching, his presence alone enough to keep the room on edge.
And yet, despite how detached he seemed, I felt his emotions ripple through the bond—restraint, impatience, calculation.
A long debate followed. Some Alphas wanted preemptive action, others argued for diplomacy.
But it was all political maneuvering.
No one was actually discussing what mattered.
And I was tired of waiting.
So I did something reckless.
I raised my hand.
A ripple of surprise spread through the room. Few unmated wolves spoke at meetings like this—let alone the daughter of an Alpha who was supposed to remain silent.
Lucian's gaze snapped to me.
My heart pounded, but I held firm.
"Go ahead," he said, his voice smooth but void of warmth.
I swallowed. "Has anyone considered that the best way to prevent an uprising is to address the root cause? If wolves feel the need to overthrow their king, shouldn't we be asking why?"
Silence.
Some Alphas exchanged glances. Others sneered.
Lucian's expression remained unreadable.
Then, in a low, cutting voice, he said:
"I don't recall asking for the opinion of a pup who has no experience in matters of war."
The words cut deeper than they should have.
Heat rushed to my face, a mixture of anger, hurt, and embarrassment surging through me.
My mate had just dismissed me. In front of everyone.
The bond between us pulsed—raw and angry.
I clenched my fists. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I'm not a pup."
His brow arched. "Could've fooled me."
Laughter rippled through the hall.
I felt like I had been slapped.
This wasn't Lucian.
Not my Lucian.
Not the man who had whispered my name like a prayer in my dreams, who had held me close, who had promised—
My teeth ground together.
Fine. If he wanted to humiliate me, then I'd make sure he regretted it.
I lifted my chin. "I suppose that's fair," I said, my voice deceptively calm. "You probably know more about being a pup than I do, considering you're the one who's been sneaking into my dreams since I was fifteen."
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
The entire room stilled.
Lucian's expression finally, finally cracked. His fingers dug into the armrests, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
But he didn't deny it immediately.
The other Alphas turned, confused murmurs spreading through the hall.
And that was when I knew—I had said too much.
I had just exposed our connection.
Lucian slowly stood from his chair, his movements controlled, deliberate. Dangerous.
Every instinct in me screamed to back down.
But I couldn't.
Not when his entire demeanor shifted—from cold indifference to something else.
Something sharp. Wild. Possessive.
Something I didn't quite understand.
And as he finally, truly looked at me, acknowledging what we both already knew, I realized something terrifying.
I might be his mate…
But that didn't mean he wanted me.