Author’s POV

“Alpha, the East District property transfer isplete..”

Duke approached the sleek ck vehicle with a folder in hand and a proud smile on his face–only for bhis /bwords to die abruptly in his throat.

Because what he saw made his brain freeze..

There was his notoriously cold and untouchable Alpha, Lucien Duskgrave, pinning a girl to the hood of the car in a rather scandalous position.

The girl wasn’t just any girl either–her cheeks were flushed like ripe peaches, her breathing ragged,shes fluttering against damp skin. Her soft hands, clearly driven by the bdrug /bcoursing through her, fumbled clumsily at Lucien’s chest.

Then came a rip.

A button popped off and rolled onto the pavement. The front of Lucien’s shirt tore bopen/b, revealing a chiseled, toned chest bathed in moonlight.

Duke stood frozen, eyes bulging, mouth open in a perfect “O” expression stunned beyond recognition.

His thoughts raced, Boss? The same Alpha who was practically celibate, who didn’t even flinch when courted by she–wolves from noble lineages? The same Lucien Duskgrave who’s immune to feminine wiles is now… doing this… in public?

Then, another thought struck him like a lightning bolt.

The Matriarch!

Lucien’s grandmother had been worrying herself into old age over his love life. She even sent Duke on a mission to “find him someone decent.”

And now.. this?! This was divine intervention. A live–action romance blooming on the hood of a luxury car.

Quick as a fox. Duke whipped out his phone, snapped a photo with a swift click, and sent it straight to the Matriarch. His lips curved into ba /bsatisfied smirk.

She’s going to be thrilled.

Just as he was relishing the idea of bing the family hero, Lucien’s sharp re sliced through the moment. Without a word, the Alpha delivered a precise, controlled chop to the back of the girl’s neck.

Riley, the writhing, drugged young wornan, slumped into his arms and went blimp/b.

Duke’s sinirk vanished. His hopes crumbled into dust.

Wait… what?!

bThis /bwasn’t how these things went in all the Alpha romance novels he’d read. Wasn’t this the part where the bAlpha /bcarried her into the backseat with burning eyes and growled, “You’re bmine/b“?

Why did Lucien balways /bruin good bnarrative /bflow?

Duke blinked slowly, confused, until Lucien shot him a t look. “Seen enough?”

Jolted Lark to reality, Duke coughed awkwardly and bstepped /bforware was just babout /bto begin breporting /bthe transaction

details when his eyesnded on Riley’s unconscious face.

“Wait, her?”

Lucien arched an eyebrow. “You know her?”

“She’s the girl who stitched the peony into your suit, Alpha,” bDuke /bsaid, a bhint /bof surprise bstill /bin his voice.

bUnderstanding /bflickered in Lucien’s eyes. “So it’s her.”

+8 Pearls

e feeling settled in his chest.

His gaze lingered on the delicate features of the unconscious woman in his arms. A strange feeli

The East District project was critical for his expansion into the Ebonw–dominated trade lines. bHis /bappearance tonight bhad /bto be impable–which was why that particr bcustom /bsuit had been prepared for weeks.

Only, a week ago, a small burn had appeared mysteriously near the chest seam. It had clearly been sabotage, likely from one of the rival Packs that feared Stormridge’s influence spreading into the city.

He’d sent the suit for repair, not expecting much. That bembroidery/b…

The peony that had reced the damage was exquisite. The craftsmanship was rare, elite–reminiscent of a masterpiece he’d bonce /bspent thirty bmillion /bon at an auction: a silk tapestry called Longevity in Pines and Cranes. It had been a birthday gift for his grandmother, who bstill /btreasured it above all.

He’d tried to acquire more from the same artist, only to learn there were only two surviving works by that mysterious. embroiderer.

Longevity in Pines and Cranes, and one unfinished piece called Blush of the Nation.

Thetter had been nearlypleted when, for unknown reasons, the embroiderer had abruptly vanished a month ago- disappearing from both the trade registry and the bartisan /bcircles.

And nowb, /bhere she was.

Passed out. In his arms.

Lucien’s fingers brushed a strand of hair from Riley’s damp cheek.

His eyes darkened.

He had questions now. Many. And he would get answers.

Starting with her.