The Alpha’s Eternal Mate

Lyra sat alone in her suite, staring at the closed door long after Ethan had left. His warning echoed in her mind, laced with the lingering ghost of his touch against her skin.

"Be careful, Lyra... because the next time you surprise me, it might not end well."

The words were meant as a caution, but beneath them, she could sense something else—something dangerous.

Shaking off the thought, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. The flash drive containing evidence against Vivian had only been the tip of the iceberg. She knew there were deeper layers to this betrayal, and if she wanted to protect Ethan, she needed to uncover the truth before it was too late.

Sitting down at her desk, she powered on her laptop and accessed the encrypted files she had stolen from Midnight Crest's financial archives. Lines of data scrolled across the screen—names, transactions, coded messages buried within layers of deception.

One name kept appearing over and over again.

Malcolm Westwood.

Lyra's brow furrowed. Westwood wasn't a name she recognized from Ethan's inner circle, but it was tied to nearly every suspicious transaction she had flagged.

Before she could dig further, a knock at the door made her heart leap into her throat.

She stood slowly, hesitating before opening it.

Logan stood in the hallway, his expression unreadable. "The Alpha wants you."

Lyra's fingers curled around the edge of the door. "Did he say why?"

Logan smirked faintly. "Does he ever?"

She sighed, grabbing her jacket and stepping out into the dimly lit corridor. As they walked through the hallways of Midnight Crest Tower, Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The air felt heavier, charged with an unseen tension.

"Is something going on?" she asked quietly.

Logan's gaze flicked to her, his usual humor absent. "Ethan's in a mood."

Lyra swallowed hard. That wasn't reassuring.

Midnight Crest Tower – Alpha's Office

The atmosphere in Ethan's office was thick with tension when Lyra stepped inside. He stood near the window, staring out at the sprawling city, his hands clenched behind his back.

She hesitated, closing the door softly behind her. "You wanted to see me?"

Ethan didn't turn right away, his voice low and measured. "Who is Malcolm Westwood?"

Lyra's stomach dropped. He knew.

"I was going to tell you," she said carefully, stepping forward. "I was still gathering information."

Ethan finally turned, his eyes piercing into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "You should have come to me sooner."

"I didn't have enough proof," Lyra defended, standing her ground.

Ethan's jaw tightened. "And if he's responsible for the money transfers? For the threats?"

Lyra swallowed. "Then we deal with him."

A flicker of something dark passed through Ethan's gaze. "There's no 'we' in this, Lyra."

She took a step closer, her voice softer now. "I'm not your enemy, Ethan."

His gaze locked onto hers, the weight of a thousand unspoken things pressing between them. "I don't know what you are."

The words stung more than she cared to admit, but before she could respond, Ethan's phone buzzed on his desk. He glanced at the screen, his expression hardening. "Logan found something. We're leaving."

Lyra blinked. "Leaving? Where?"

Ethan grabbed his jacket, his movements swift and controlled. "Westwood's estate."

Lyra's heart raced. This was happening too fast. "Let me come with you."

Ethan paused, his eyes narrowing. "No."

She squared her shoulders. "I found the lead. I deserve to see where it takes us."

A tense silence followed before Ethan let out a sharp breath. "Fine. But you stay close."

Lyra nodded, the familiar thrill of adrenaline coursing through her veins. This was her chance to prove to Ethan that she belonged by his side—not just as an offering, but as an equal.

Westwood Estate – Midnight

The estate loomed ahead like a dark fortress, nestled deep within the outskirts of the city. Tall iron gates surrounded the perimeter, cameras positioned at every corner.

Ethan stood at the front, flanked by Logan and a few other pack members, his expression unreadable as they approached the entrance. Lyra stood close behind, her senses heightened, every fiber of her being on edge.

"We do this quietly," Ethan ordered, his voice a low growl.

Lyra nodded, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had faced danger before, but this was different—this was Ethan's world now, and she was just a guest in it.

The gates creaked open slowly, and they moved in with silent precision. Lyra followed Ethan's lead, keeping her eyes sharp as they made their way through the grand estate.

Inside, the air smelled of expensive leather and old money, but beneath it, Lyra could sense something more—something darker.

"This place feels wrong," she whispered to Ethan.

He didn't respond, his focus locked on the large double doors at the end of the hall. With a swift motion, he pushed them open.

Inside, a man sat behind a massive oak desk, his suit impeccable, his smile polished yet empty. Malcolm Westwood.

"I was wondering when you'd come," Westwood said smoothly, leaning back in his chair.

Ethan stepped forward, his presence dominating the room. "You've been stealing from me."

Westwood's smile didn't falter. "You have no proof."

Lyra bristled. "We have more than enough."

Westwood's eyes flicked to her, a slow smirk curling his lips. "Ah, the new concubine. I see you're more than just decoration."

Ethan's expression darkened, his hands clenching at his sides. "Watch your mouth."

Westwood chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I meant no offense."

Ethan's gaze was cold, lethal. "You made a mistake crossing me, Westwood."

The air thickened, tension crackling between them like a storm waiting to break.

Lyra's instincts screamed at her—something wasn't right.

And then she saw it.

Westwood's hand moved beneath the desk, too fast for a normal human to notice, but she wasn't normal.

"Ethan, watch out!" she shouted.

In a flash, Westwood pulled a gun from beneath the desk and fired.

Ethan moved with lightning speed, dodging the bullet as chaos erupted around them. Logan tackled one of Westwood's guards, while Ethan lunged forward, slamming Westwood against the desk with a feral growl.

Lyra pressed herself against the wall, her mind racing as the room descended into violence.

When the dust settled, Ethan stood over Westwood's unconscious form, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild.

He turned to Lyra, his gaze searching hers. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, but her hands trembled slightly.

Ethan stepped closer, his voice softer this time. "You shouldn't have been here."

Lyra forced a small smile. "But I was."

Ethan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Let's get out of here."

As they left the estate, Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

Because if tonight proved anything, it was that Ethan's world was far more dangerous than she had imagined.

And she wasn't sure she'd make it out unscathed.