I had two simple goals for the day:
1.Avoid Killian.
2.Make sure Ethan didn't slip into a pit of brooding so deep that I had to drag him out with a forklift.
Easy, right?
Wrong.
Ethan: King of Bad Moods.
Ethan was still in full tragic poet mode when I walked into the kitchen that morning. He sat hunched over a cup of coffee, staring into it like the meaning of life was hidden in the bottom. The half-eaten plate of eggs in front of him suggested he was debating whether or not to bother surviving today.
I slid into the seat across from him. "Is this breakfast or a dramatic still-life painting of your despair?"
He didn't even look up. "I'm thinking about the fact that I could've been Alpha of the pack."
Ah. So that's where we were today.
I reached over and stole a piece of bacon off his plate. "And yet here you are. Just a regular, sad, coffee-drinking alpha."
He finally lifted his head to glare at me. "You're a terrible sister."
"I prefer helpfully unsympathetic."
Ethan rolled his eyes and went back to his brooding. I sighed. One day, I was going to get him to act like an actual functioning person again. But today wasn't that day.
I managed to avoid Killian for approximately three hours. Then fate—or Jasmine, that meddling saint—ruined everything.
I was at the clinic, enjoying a peaceful moment restocking shelves, when the door opened, and a very large, very smug Alpha walked in.
Killian.
Oh no.
I turned, holding a roll of bandages like a weapon. "You're not bleeding. Should I be concerned?"
He leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed. "I wanted to check in."
I raised a brow. "Check in on what? My well-being? My mental health? My ability to stack medical supplies?"
His lips twitched. "On how you're settling in."
Liar.
But I played along. "The clinic's great. Jasmine's great. No one has shifted mid-appointment and tried to bite me yet, so that's a win."
Killian's golden eyes studied me. "And Ethan?"
I stiffened. "He's fine."
Killian tilted his head slightly, like he could smell the lie on me. "You're protective of him."
"Wow, amazing Alpha instincts. What gave it away? The fact that I threatened to stab his ex with a scalpel?"
A hint of amusement flickered in his expression. "I'm throwing a gathering at the packhouse tonight. You should come."
I groaned. "Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"That's a really Alpha way to invite someone."
Killian smirked. "That's because I'm an Alpha."
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
"Probably."
Later that day, while finishing up at the clinic, I overheard Jasmine and one of the other healers, Noah, talking in the next room.
"I can't believe Serena actually tried to come back," Noah scoffed.
I froze.
Jasmine snorted. "She's persistent, I'll give her that. But after everything? Killian's already moved on."
My stomach did a weird flip.
Serena. Again. And Killian?
I frowned, confused but still not putting the pieces together.
It couldn't be the same Serena.
Serena was a common name. Right? Maybe Killian had his own ex named Serena. Maybe she was some past flame, a local pack girl who stirred up trouble.
I shook it off. Didn't matter.
At least, that's what I told myself.
By the time I arrived at the packhouse that night, I already regretted my choices.
The place was packed—wolves everywhere, music playing, laughter filling the air. And, to my shock, Ethan was there too.
"You actually left the cabin?" I asked, stunned.
"I was blackmailed," he muttered, glaring at Jasmine.
She grinned. "I threatened to tell people about his angsty poetry phase."
Ethan groaned. "I hate you."
"Love you too."
Before I could sit down, Killian appeared out of nowhere.
I swear, it was like he had a built-in radar for ruining my peace.
"You showed up," he said, golden eyes locked onto me.
"Yeah, yeah, don't make a big deal out of it," I muttered.
He smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
And then—because fate is cruel—Killian leaned in, voice dropping just enough to make my brain short-circuit.
"Dance with me."
I blinked. "I—what?"
His lips curled slightly. "It's a dance, Ellie. Not a death sentence."
Jasmine kicked me under the table. I yelped. "OW—"
Killian's smirk deepened. "I'll take that as a yes."
Before I could argue, he took my hand.
I barely had time to panic before he led me onto the dance floor. The music shifted, the crowd parted, and suddenly I was dancing with the Alpha of Havenwood like this was a fairytale instead of my life falling apart in slow motion.
"This is a terrible idea," I muttered.
His hand tightened around mine. "Then why are you still here?"
Dammit. Good question.
I tried to focus on not enjoying the way his touch sent heat through me, but it was impossible. The way he moved—strong, fluid, completely in control—made it very, very hard to ignore the pull between us.
I was in trouble.
Big trouble.
At our table, Ethan watched Killian and me dance, his face unreadable. He didn't know yet.
Didn't know that the Alpha of Havenwood was the same man Serena had cheated with.
Didn't know that his sister was starting to fall for the very person who had unknowingly wrecked his future.
And I—brilliant, oblivious me—still hadn't connected the dots.
Because Serena was a common name, right?
Right?