The morning comes too fast. Staring at the ring on his finger, he remembers what happened last night for the first time.
He remembers how he arrived at his engagement party almost drunk, with voices murmuring across the room too inaudible to hear.
Iris, though angry, didn't say a word. She was happy he didn't disappoint her and that meant everything to her.
That one reckless, anonymous night looped in his mind. There's a sharp pang he can't explain, something gnawing at the edges of memory.
He thinks back to try and remember her laugh and the tilt of her head. The way she held herself like she was untouchable, yet somehow fragile.
He tries to shake it off. He shouldn't feel this way, he shouldn't care.
But his wolf is sharp, insistent and reminds him what he already does. Something in her is marked for him, though he doesn't yet understand it.
He has no memory of her face nor did he get her name or number. It was an honest mistake which should be forgotten but he can't ignore it.
By the time dawn begins to creep over the skyline, he realises he can't forget her, she is living rent free in his mind and he has no control over it.
Thursday morning arrives and Ember has to be present at her new job. Once she settles in, her desk is immediately filled with files.
The morning has already been a blur of meetings and coffee in between , her mind has been focused on spreadsheets, client calls, and her boss's endless instructions.
So much for the first day of work. Iris has given her files to prepare as they were to go in for an important board meeting with her fiancé.
But stepping into the glass-walled boardroom of her company, her job drops when she sees him. She freezes.
He's there. Standing at the head of the table, tailored suit impeccable, the aura of authority radiating from him like heat.
The same intensity, the same sharp eyes… but nothing clicks.
Why….. Why is he there ? Something must definitely be wrong with her eyes.
She rubs her eyes with her thumbs, closes them again but he is still there.
Nothing in her rational mind says she should remember Monday night.
Her wolf stirs anyway, subtle and insistent, pressing beneath her ribs. The pull is immediate and undeniable.
She swallows and breathes "Just act normal." She murmurs to myself.
She is still in a state of intense panic when a round of applause startles her and she snaps out of her reverie.
"Morning, everyone," he says, his voice calm and professional. No hint of Monday night, no hint of recognition.
Her fingers tighten around her notebook. He doesn't remember. Or so it seems.
He steps a few inches from here he was, with confidence, head high and briefcase in hand.
"The deal is important. The investors are high-profile. Nothing can falter, nothing has to." He says
But the moment he sees Iris' new assistant seated at the side, something inside him tightens. She's… familiar. Familiar in a way that shouldn't make sense.
He studies her quietly and attentively but carefully trying not to make eye contact with her.
He doesn't seem to remember her face, not consciously
And yet his wolf reacts. Reacts with heat, with pulse, with instinct.
She belongs to him.
The thought is sharp, unbidden and dangerous.
He pushes it aside, professionalism first. This is a business meeting, not a playground for whatever reckless chemistry he could have with her.
As the meeting begins, she tries to focus on the presentation slides as bullet points blur together.
Her attention fractures every time he glances at her. He doesn't look like someone she slept next to on Monday.
He looks like an Alpha. The kind of man who commands rooms, commands people and commands loyalty.
And yet…
Something pulls at her , low and sharp, beneath logic and rational thought. Her wolf whines, barely perceptible, but enough to make her heart skip a beat.
She shifts in her seat, forcing herself to concentrate. But the closer he moves, the more impossible it feels to pretend she doesn't know him.
And when he isn't speaking, he listens and nods when necessary.
The room clears for a brief coffee break. She heads to the counter. He follows, pretending casually, studying a portfolio.
She turns and their eyes meet just a second longer than necessary.
She flinches. He notices the flinch. A flicker of interest crosses his face, calm and professional, but enough to unsettle her.
No one says a word. Nothing is acknowledged.
"Did I introduce you to my new assistant yet?" Iris interrupts putting her arms into his from behind.
She raises her hand motioning "Ember come over here darling"
She walks half dead, half alive to where they are standing.
"Oh I see we are all here." A voice interrupts. It is Mr Adams. Iris' father.
"Everyone, so sorry I am late. I want to introduce someone very important," he says, his voice smooth but carrying the weight of authority.
"This is Mr Edward Drew, my daughter's fiancé and the future of our partnership."
Everyone starts clapping and very quickly, Iris kisses him. He kisses her right back.
Ember's stomach twists. Something instinctual and sharp warns her to stay calm.
Her eyes flick to the Alpha. He is watching too, but now the tension sharpens. He still hasn't recognized her.
His expression is calm, professional, but there's a twitch in his jaw, a barely perceptible flare of his wolf beneath the surface.
"Everyone, this is my daughter, Iris. She just returned from our office in Colorado. She'll be taking an active role in the partnership and, of course, in the family affairs that matter most."
Iris steps forward, her eyes scanning the room like a predator mapping the terrain.
"Congratulations babe. I am happy we get to work together" Iris says smoothly, eyes flicking briefly toward her alpha.
Ember feels it instinctively, the undercurrent of competition, the unspoken claim. Every muscle in her body tenses.
She wants to back away, to fade into the room, but something inside her won't let her.
The pull toward the Alpha hums quietly in her chest. She can feel her wolf stirring again, aware and alert.
It dawned on her immediately, she made out with the alpha on the same day of his engagement.
She feels disgust at the sight of what is now unfolding before her.
Iris takes a seat opposite her alpha, her gaze sliding over the room, then landing on Ember for a heartbeat too long.
A subtle smirk, a slight tilt of her head, a warning or a challenge, she can't make out.
Her heart pounds. What if she knows she spent the night of her engagement with her fiancé ? Thoughts crisscross her mind as she sits uncomfortably.
She stiffens.The wolf presses closer beneath her skin.
Edward senses it, too, an invisible tension snapping tight between them.
For the first time, the stakes are no longer just professional. Something is brewing. Something unavoidable.
And no one in the room, not her boss, not Edward, not Iris and not the investors have any idea about the night she shared with him.
The boardroom empties, leaving her alone for a few minutes with Iris and Edward.
Iris excuses herself to take a phone call. He is closer now to her and he can smell her.
Her faint cologne, something untamed beneath it. His wolf twists under the surface, restless and alert.
He should leave. He knows the rules. End the meeting, move on, don't linger. Yet his feet stay planted, his attention caught on the quiet way she gathers her papers, precise and controlled, like she's holding herself together by force of habit.
Something tightens in his chest.
He doesn't understand it. He has felt attraction before. Desire and Interest. None of them feel like this, like a pressure building beneath his ribs, urging him closer while warning him not to move at all.
She looks up.
The moment their eyes meet, his wolf stirs hard enough to steal his breath.
Her smell is familiar, so familiar but he doesn't know how. She wants to look away, to pretend she doesn't feel it.
He turns to leave, in an attempt to act professional. "Do we know each other?". The question slips out rougher than he intends.
She freezes.
Just for a fraction of a second. Her eyes flicker, and for the briefest moment, he can swear he sees pain there.
"Not sure sir. Today is my first time seeing you."
The answer should settle it. But it doesn't. He doesn't remember her. And yet his body does.
"Right," he says, because anything else would crack the moment open.
She turns and walks out without looking back, and the space she leaves behind feels wrong like something essential has been taken with her.
He stands there longer than he should, staring at the door.
He doesn't know her. That's the truth my mind insists on.