A tall woman with sharp, deliberate movements entered the hall. She was Claire-one of the most celebrated warriors from the Shadow Valley Pack. Her reputation was hard-earned, and her presence alone was enough to command attention. But the man walking beside her...

I barely heard Evelyn gasp beside me. My focus was riveted, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

Dylan.

It was him.

The air seemed to vanish from the room as my eyes locked with his, and the mate bond-dormant and faint for so long-roared to life within me. His ice-blue gaze pierced through the crowd, freezing me in place despite the overwhelming heat that suddenly surged through me.

He looked the same, and yet... different. Taller, if that were possible-broad shoulders held high with the ease of someone utterly confident in his power. The dark suit he wore molded perfectly to him, only emphasizing the chiseled sharpness of his features and the commanding aura that seemed almost tangible.

I tore my gaze away before he could see the storm in my expression. Two years without a word, and now he waltzed in like nothing had happened?

"Did you know he was coming back?" Evelyn asked quietly.

"No," I replied, my voice strained. How could I have known? Our bond wasn't strong enough for me to feel him anymore.

Elder Marcus Thorn's voice boomed across the hall, cutting through my turbulent thoughts as he addressed the wolves gathered. He praised Evelyn for her work as the pack's newest historian, officially announcing her promotion. I clapped with the crowd even as my hands felt numb, my thoughts spinning out of control.

Dylan, however, was still watching me. I could feel his gaze even without looking.

The whispers started around me. Wolves were nudging one another, leaning in closer to murmur theories about his return. Some speculated it signaled the end of the land disputes in the north. Others wondered if it was about a power shift.

But me? I only wondered why he had come back now.

"Sophia, isn't it?"

Claire's sudden voice startled me. She stood closer than I realized, her cool, assessing eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"Yes." I held her gaze evenly.

Her lips curved into a calculated smile. "It's rare to see the two of you apart," she said, her words like a dagger wrapped in silk.

"It's been... a long time," I replied carefully.

Dylan said nothing, but I didn't need to look. I could feel the storm rolling off him, his dominance a heavy weight even from here.

The moonstone offering began shortly after, and I tried to focus as Claire gracefully presented a rare pendant. Wolves across the room perked up at the announcement-it was a coveted symbol of status and power.

The bidding war quickly became heated, numbers escalating higher and higher.

"Five hundred moon crystals," Dylan's voice rang out suddenly, silencing the entire room.

I whipped my head around to look at him, shock flickering across my features. He stood tall, his expression unfazed as murmurs rippled across the gathering. Five hundred crystals were unheard of for something like this. What was he trying to prove?

Claire's sharp gaze flicked between me and Dylan, a knowing gleam in her eye. "Your generosity is admirable, Dylan," she purred.

The pendant was his. It was almost too smooth, the way he had claimed it without breaking so much as a sweat. Yet I couldn't help but sense the message-this was dominance, plain and simple.

The ceremony ended, but the tension only grew. Wolves began mingling again, some flocking to Dylan like moths to a flame. Meanwhile, I remained at the same table, staring at the now-empty ceremonial platform.

"Did you... really not know he was back?" Evelyn asked hesitantly beside me.

"No." My tone was clipped, a sharp edge of bitterness in each word. If our bond had been strong, I would've felt it. But this? This was as much of a surprise to me as to everyone else.

And then I felt it-his presence beside me, his intense aura suffocating the air around us.

"Sophia," his voice was deep, smooth, yet firm. "It's time to return to our den."

I stiffened, every nerve ending in my body reacting to his closeness. Slowly, I stood. My face hardened into a neutral mask, my thoughts too turbulent to form any real words.

Dylan waved Evelyn toward the front seat of his sleek black car, leaving the back for us. As I climbed in, the first thing I noticed was how small the space felt with him so close.

The silence was unbearable. Dylan radiated calm control, while my mind screamed with questions I couldn't bring myself to ask.

Evelyn, likely sensing the awkward tension, attempted to fill the void. "So, Dylan," she said lightly, "don't you think my new title has a nice ring to it?"

He turned his attention to her briefly. "Pack Historian," he repeated. "When did we start using modern labels like that?"

"Probably when you decided to vanish for two years," I snapped before I could stop myself. The words fell out like venom, sharp and biting.

Dylan didn't reply. His ice-blue eyes flickered in the rearview mirror, meeting mine for the briefest moment before turning away.

The car ride stretched on, heavy with unresolved tension. I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay composed. Crying or yelling wouldn't do me any good-not in front of him.