Aurora Steele's Perspective
The world had a cruel way of shifting beneath her feet, and Aurora felt it happening again.
The past week had been a whirlwind—an avalanche of revelations that left her reeling. Questions swirled faster than answers could catch up, danger loomed in the shadows, and just when she thought she was piecing the puzzle together, the game changed.
Now, here she was, standing beside the very man who had haunted her thoughts since that fateful night at the charity auction.
Lorenzo De Luca. Mafia boss. Werewolf Alpha. Protector. And tonight, her only ally.
The irony wasn't lost on her.
Aurora had always prided herself on her independence. She'd spent years carving out her place in a man's world, relying on her wit and instincts to navigate treacherous waters. But tonight, she'd been shaken. Her usual armor of confidence had cracked.
The "accident" that nearly killed her wasn't an accident at all.
Lorenzo had been there—like he'd known it was coming. One moment, headlights blinded her, the roar of the engine barreling toward her; the next, strong arms yanked her to safety. His touch had been unyielding, his grip pulling her out of the jaws of death.
Even now, her skin tingled where his hands had been. His scent—dark, woodsy, and maddeningly intoxicating—clung to her like an unwelcome secret.
"Are you hurt?" His voice had been low, and rough, tinged with an edge of concern.
Aurora had snapped back, "I'm fine," even though her heart was pounding, her breaths unsteady.
But she wasn't fine. She wasn't fine at all.
Now, sitting in his sleek black car, the weight of the situation pressed against her chest like a suffocating blanket. The city lights outside blurred, their glow reflecting off the tinted windows. Aurora crossed her arms, her gaze fixed firmly on the night outside.
"You don't have to do this, you know," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
From the driver's seat, Lorenzo didn't glance her way. "Do what?"
"Protect me," Aurora said, her voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not your responsibility."
Finally, he turned his head just enough to catch her eyes in the rearview mirror. His gaze was sharp, piercing—like he could see through her bravado.
"I don't have to," he said, his tone calm, almost indifferent. "But I am."
"Why?" She pressed, her voice firmer now, her heart pounding as the question lingered between them.
For a moment, silence stretched taut. Then, Lorenzo exhaled, his hands loosening their grip on the steering wheel. "Because someone has to," he muttered.
Aurora frowned. She didn't know what answer she'd been expecting, but his words sparked something inside her—a mixture of gratitude and anger she didn't know how to process.
"Well, don't think for a second I owe you anything," she said, crossing her arms tighter. "I didn't ask for your help."
He glanced at her again, his jaw clenching as a flicker of something—annoyance? Amusement?—crossed his face. "Trust me, Steele, I don't do this for gratitude."
The car fell into silence again, but the air between them crackled with tension.
Lorenzo De Luca's Perspective
Lorenzo kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts were far from steady.
Aurora Steele.
She was infuriating—stubborn, reckless, and maddeningly brave. Yet, he couldn't stay away. She was a force he hadn't been prepared for, and despite all logic, he respected her for it.
He didn't need this. He didn't need her. His life was already a minefield of loyalty and lies, of keeping his pack safe while holding the mafia's fragile empire together.
But Aurora?
She was unlike anyone he'd ever met. She stood toe-to-toe with him, no fear in her sharp eyes, no hesitation in her voice. She didn't flinch when the world tried to break her—she pushed back.
And that scared him more than he cared to admit.
He glanced at her briefly, noting the way her arms were crossed defensively, her jaw set like she was daring the universe to throw its worst at her. She didn't belong in his world—she was all fire and light, where his existence thrived in shadows.
Yet here she was tangled in his life, refusing to back down.
And here he was, unable to walk away.
Aurora Steele's Perspective
The silence in the car grew heavier by the minute, every unspoken word thickening the air. Aurora hated it. Hated the way Lorenzo could unsettle her with nothing more than a glance, hated the way her heart betrayed her by beating too fast when he was near.
But most of all, she hated that she didn't entirely hate him.
There was something undeniably magnetic about him—a pull she couldn't quite resist, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn't just his presence or the way he carried himself like he owned the world. It was the way he looked at her—like he saw something in her even she didn't fully understand.
She turned to him, determined to break the silence. "So what now?"
Lorenzo didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed on the road ahead, his profile illuminated by the glow of the dashboard lights.
"Now," he said finally, his voice steady and unyielding, "we survive."
Aurora swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking deep.
The stakes had never felt higher.
But for the first time, as the city lights blurred around her, she didn't feel entirely alone.