I had a terrible night’s rest, if it could even be called that. Barely an hour would pass before I jolted awake, my mind plagued by Alpha Devon’s maddening presence and my own wildly unhelpful fantasies. By the time morning arrived, I felt less like the Sovereignty’s Supreme Successor and more like a frazzled ghost doomed to haunt Irving Island.

Grumpy didn’t even begin to cover it.

Still, I managed to drag myself out of bed, courtesy of Julia and Luciana, my very efficient attendees. Between their tireless efforts and my absolute desire not to let Mother catch me unprepared, I got dressed, packed, and ready in time.

Downstairs, my family sent me off with a classic Le Torneau farewell: cold, formal, and utterly exhausting. There were hugs, sure, but they were the kind you gave out of duty rather than affection. Father offered a solemn nod; Mother reminded me again not to embarrass her; Cullen ruffled my hair like I was still ten years old, and Yeon simply clasped my shoulder, the universal Lycan gesture for stay out of trouble.

Then, with my escorts and attendees in tow, I climbed into the carriage and set off for the Irving Island.

The ride was fast, mercifully so, but that didn’t stop the lingering irritation from simmering in my chest. Yeon wasn’t escorting me because Lord Irving didn’t allow anyone else but me and my attendees. Even my official guards were only temporary. Once they saw me safely delivered to the Alpha’s domain, they’d be heading back to the Le Torneau estate.

When we arrived, a small army of attendees greeted us, all efficient smiles and meticulous movements. They wasted no time giving me a tour of the enormous manor. It was a sprawling estate so opulent it made the Le Torneau estate look modest. Marble floors, gilded ceilings, and hallways that stretched endlessly, each more intimidatingly beautiful than the last.

Finally, they deposited us in the west wing, where Julia, Luciana, and I were shown to our quarters.

Quarters being a generous term.

Lavish didn’t begin to cover it. The room was an explosion of extravagance: deep red curtains that screamed look at me, with gold accents on every possible surface, and a chandelier so large I half-expected it to crash down on me out of sheer spite. Even the furniture looked like it was designed more for display than function, as if daring anyone to sit down and ruin the aesthetic.

Julia placed my bag on a bench that was, frankly, more throne than bench. “Well, this is” cosy,” she said.

Luciana snorted softly, earning a sharp look from Julia.

“Cosy is not the word I’d use,” I muttered, dropping onto a divan that felt more like sitting on a gilded rock.

“This is a bit odd, don’t you think, Lady Celeste?” Julia, my Fae attendant, asked.

Too tired to even consider what she meant, I waved her off with a grunt. “Probably.” Whatever it was, I didn’t have the brain cells to spare for decoding cryptic remarks.

What I did notice, however, was how strangely” calm I felt here. Knowing I was in Alpha Devon’s private island which I expected to have kept me wide awake somehow had the opposite effect. All I wanted now was sleep.

“I’m going to bed,” I announced, not giving my attendees time to argue. “Get some rest, ladies.”

They curtsied in perfect harmony. “Lady Celeste,” they murmured before slipping out of the room, leaving me in blissful silence.

I flopped onto the bed without ceremony, pulling the blanket over me with a contented sigh. Within moments, the soft embrace of sleep wrapped around me like a favourite cloak.

For about five seconds.

Just as I drifted into that sweet, quiet slumber, the bed dipped beneath a heavy weight. My peaceful haze shattered, replaced by a jolt of adrenaline as I became acutely aware of someone on top of me.

My eyes fluttered open, and there he was.

Alpha Devon.

Hovering above me, close enough to steal my breath, with that maddeningly confident smile curling his lips as his piercing grey eyes took me in.

“Why are you always sneaking up on me?” I blurted. How was I even forming words when he was this close?

His smile deepened, and he tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze sweeping over me. “You make it easy, Lady Celeste.”

I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes, as if that might somehow block him out, or at least give me a second to process things. “Do you make a habit of invading your guests” personal space, or am I just lucky?”

“Lucky,” he replied like he was savouring the word.

I peeked out from under my arm, glaring at him with as much dignity as I could muster under the circumstances. “What are you doing in my room, Alpha?”

“Checking on you,” he said it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world to hover over someone.

I blinked. “Checking on me? While I’m asleep?”

He shrugged, unbothered by my rising indignation. “It’s my house. I check on my guests.”

“Oh, well, that makes perfect sense,” I said. “What would I do without your” hovering hospitality?”

“You seemed restless,” he said. I didn’t really understand how his voice was so maddeningly calm.

And then he leaned closer.

My breath hitched, my entire body going still as he lowered his face to my hair. I felt the soft brush of his breath as he inhaled deeply, a slow action that sent a shiver racing down my spine.

I swallowed hard, every nerve in my body alive and buzzing as his weight shifted, pressing into me just enough to rock my senses. The rational part of my brain, the one that knew this was absolutely ridiculous, fought valiantly against the temptation rising in me.

But oh, how tempting it was.

I wanted to touch him. No, more than that. I wanted to hold him, to pull him closer, to drown in the warmth and strength of him.

And then I heard a low, guttural growl rumbling from his chest as he lifted his face, his piercing grey eyes locking onto mine. My pulse hammered in my ears, and my hands twitched, desperate to act on thoughts I had no business entertaining.

“Restless?” I repeated, forcing the word out in a tone sharper than I felt. Maybe if I acted annoyed, he wouldn’t notice the way my heart was racing. “You could always let me rest, you know.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and velvety, and it made my cheeks burn despite myself. “Perhaps,” he said.

But he didn’t move.

Of course not. That would be too simple.

I clenched my fists, the tension in me mounting as I fought against every instinct screaming at me to reach for him. To touch the sharp angles of his face, to stroke the rough line of his beard, to”

Stop.

My nails bit into my palms as I forced myself to stay still, though my traitorous mind continued to wander. This man had no right to loom over me like this though, all devastatingly composed and utterly infuriating.

“Are you just going to stay there?” I asked. “Or is this some strange Lycan hospitality ritual I should prepare for?”

His lips quirked into a faint smile, and he tilted his head as if he was considering the question. “It’s not a ritual,” he said, “but it is effective.”

“Effective?” I arched a brow, trying, and failing, to keep the fluster out of my voice.

“You’re not sleepy any more, are you?” he said, his tone smug enough to make my hands twitch.

I stared at him, not entirely sure what game he was playing or what he wanted from me. But I was certain he was enjoying this far too much. If he thought he could fluster me without consequence, he was about to learn otherwise.

Without a second thought, I reached for his cheek.

The shift in his expression was instant and utterly satisfying. His ever-composed demeanour cracked for the first time as his eyes widened slightly. I stroked his beard, enjoying the way his lashes fluttered shut as he leaned into my touch, a low rumble escaping his chest. He was practically nuzzling my palm, and for a moment, I forgot about everything except the strange, soft vulnerability in front of me.

Then his eyes snapped open, and whatever spell I’d cast on him broke. He jolted back as if my hand had burned him, but I wasn’t about to let him escape that easily, not this time.

My fingers closed around his wrist before he could retreat, but I hadn’t accounted for Alpha Devon’s sheer, ridiculous strength.

The moment I tugged, he moved—but so did I.

With a sharp gasp, I tumbled forward, completely yanked out of bed. Before I could even process what was happening, his arms caught me, pulling me against his chest in one smooth, reflexive motion.

I froze, my breath hitching as I found myself pressed against him, his warmth and strength impossible to ignore. He held me effortlessly, like I weighed nothing, and the steady thud of his heart beneath my hands only made mine race faster.

It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

And apparently, my very curious hands had decided to take the reins.

They wandered of their own accord, tracing the firm planes of his chest through the fabric of his shirt. The tension in his body didn’t escape me, and neither did the slight narrowing of his eyes as he looked down at me.

“Lady Celeste,” he said, his voice sounded like a warning.

“Alpha Devon,” I replied, unable to keep the breathlessness out of my tone. My hands paused, but they didn’t move away.

For a moment, neither of us moved. My pulse continued to thunder in my ears, and I had no idea if it was fear, attraction, or some dangerous combination of both.

“You really don’t make this easy,” he muttered.

“Neither do you,” I countered, my fingers flexing slightly against his chest. “You seem tense,” I said, deciding to double down on my recklessness. My fingers drummed lightly against his chest like that might somehow dissipate the heat between us. It didn’t. “Maybe you should relax a little, Alpha. It’s good for the soul.”

His low chuckle reverberated through his chest, vibrating against my hands, and I had to fight the urge to shiver. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I said, lifting my chin as if I had any authority here. “I hear it’s quite refreshing.”

His hands, still firmly holding me, flexed slightly, his grip secure but not confining. “You’re remarkably bold for someone who can’t seem to stop blushing.”

“I am not blushing,” I lied, feeling the telltale warmth spread from my neck to my cheeks like wildfire.

His smile deepened. “Of course not,” he said. “That would be beneath a Le Torneau, wouldn’t it?”

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest of seconds, so fleeting I could’ve convinced myself I imagined it. Could’ve, but didn’t.

And then, just as the moment felt on the verge of tipping into something I desperately wanted, he straightened, breaking away with one smooth motion. He set me back on my feet with an ease that was both maddening and strangely” disappointing.

“Get some rest, Lady Celeste,” he said. His tone had slipped back to that maddeningly polite neutrality that made me want to scream, or throw something.

And then, against all better judgment, I opened my mouth.

“Why do you continue to do that to me” with me?” The words tumbled out, unfiltered and entirely reckless. Somewhere in the back of my head, my inner voice was yelling at me to stop talking, but apparently, I was past the point of no return.

“You start these things,” I continued, my voice rising slightly, “rattle me like your little plaything, and’” I trailed off, searching his face for anything that might explain his impossible behaviour.

His expression remained unreadable, which only fuelled my frustration. “I can’t quite reconcile why you asked me to your private island,” I said, and my tone was sharper now, “when you don’t even want me to be an Irving.”

That got a reaction. His gaze darkened, and for a moment, I thought I might’ve crossed a line. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm.

“You are already an Irving, Celeste.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“This island,” he continued, “is home to the Alpha and his Luna. And that,” he said, and his voice dipper lower now, “is you.”

It took a full three seconds for his words to register, and when they did, my brain short-circuited.

“I—what?” I managed, though it sounded more like a squeak than actual words.

He stepped closer. “You heard me.”

Oh, I’d heard him, all right. I just wasn’t sure if I believed him. Or if I was imagining the heat in his tone, the way his words wrapped around me like an embrace I wasn’t sure I wanted to escape.

“You can’t just” say that,” I blurted. “You can’t drop a bomb like that and expect me to” to’”

“To what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “To accept it? To understand it? Or to admit you’ve felt it too?”

Felt it too? My heart was practically trying to leap out of my chest, and my face was so hot I was certain I looked like a freshly boiled lobster.

“That’s not’” I started, then stopped, because what could I even say? Deny it? Laugh it off? Pretend my hands hadn’t been wandering his chest just moments ago?

He took another step closer, the space between us shrinking to nothing. “Rest, Celeste,” he said softly. “You’ll need your strength. Four seasons is a long time to keep up with me, mate.”

With that, he turned and left, leaving me frozen in place, my thoughts spinning like a storm.

Already an Irving? Already his Luna? Mate?

Gaia, I didn’t know whether to laugh, scream, or swoon. Probably all three.