Chapter Four

Sophia had one rule.

"Don't overthink it," she said, shoving Liora forward. "Just walk over there and be natural."

"Natural," Liora repeated.

"Like a normal person."

"Right."

"Not like someone who just got dumped last night and is now approaching the most powerful Alpha in the North for survival purposes."

"That's very specific."

"Go."

Liora went.

She crossed the path with her shoulders back and her chin up and absolutely no plan whatsoever. The little boy — Niko, she would learn his name later, she didn't know it yet — had settled onto the bench beside his father and was now kicking his legs and eating what appeared to be a chocolate croissant with full criminal intent. There was flake everywhere.

The bench had one empty space on the other side of Elias.

Liora pointed at it.

"Is this seat taken?"

Elias looked up. And there it was again — that face. Up close it was somehow worse. The jaw. The lashes. The Bay of Naples eyes that gave absolutely nothing away.

He looked at her for exactly one second.

"No," he said. And went back to his phone.

Liora sat down. She could feel Freya stirring already, just from the proximity. A slow warmth creeping back into the cold places.

Okay. Good. This was working.

Now say something.

"Wow." She turned to him with her best smile. "Fancy running into you again."

He didn't look up. "Mm."

"Must be fate, right?"

Nothing.

Liora reached for the coffee cup on the armrest between them. Wrapped her fingers around it. Took a sip.

It was black. No sugar. Aggressively bitter.

She kept her face perfectly still.

"Oops." She set it down. "Wrong glass." She pulled her own cup from her bag — still warm, thank goodness — and held it out toward him. "You could have mine. If you want."

Elias finally looked at her again. Then at the cup she was offering. Then back at her.

"It's fine," he said. "I like this one."

He picked up the black coffee. Drank it. Looked back at his phone.

Liora stared straight ahead.

That was painful, Freya said.

I know.

Like watching someone walk into a glass door in slow motion.

Freya, I will end us myself.

She was still trying to figure out what to say next when a small voice cut in from the other side of Elias.

"Hi."

Liora looked down. Niko had abandoned the destroyed croissant and was now studying her with the complete, unfiltered focus that only six-year-olds and detectives could manage. Chocolate at the corner of his mouth. Big dark eyes — his father's eyes, same color, but where Elias's were guarded, Niko's were just wide open.

"Hi," Liora said back.

"You are as handsome as your dad," she added without thinking.

Niko considered this very seriously. Then he pointed at her.

"Nice try."

Liora blinked.

"Are you trying to flirt with my dad?"

The silence that followed was enormous.

Elias made a sound beside her. She couldn't tell if it was a cough or something else. She refused to look.

"I was just being friendly," Liora said carefully.

Niko narrowed his eyes. He was six years old and somehow already had the energy of a very small lawyer.

Then Elias spoke.

"Seems like my son doesn't want a stripper as his stepmom."

Liora turned to look at him slowly.

He was still looking at his phone. But the corner of his mouth — just barely — had moved.

"I'm not a stripper," she said.

"You were at the club."

"I work at the club. There's a difference."

"Mm."

Niko was still watching her. Then he leaned across his father and whispered, loudly enough for the entire park to hear — "She's pretty though, Dad."

Elias said nothing.

Liora looked at Niko. Niko looked at Liora. And despite everything — the debt, the rejection, the dying wolf, the aggressively unimpressed Alpha sitting between them — she felt something loosen in her chest.

She smiled. A real one this time.

Niko smiled back. Croissant flakes and all.

----------------------

Liora was lying on the kitchen floor.

Not for any particular reason. She had simply sat down at some point and then kept going until she was flat on her back staring at the ceiling with her arms spread out like she was making a snow angel on the tiles.

"What are you doing?" Sophia appeared in the doorway with two mugs.

"Writing my will."

Sophia stepped over her legs and set the mugs on the counter. "You don't have anything to leave anyone."

"I'm leaving Dad a strongly worded letter." Liora closed her eyes. "Dear Dad. I tried my best. I really did. I'm dying before I could finish paying off your debt and I want you to know that I hold you partially responsible. Love, your daughter."

"Very moving."

"Thank you. I've been working on it mentally for the last hour."

Sophia crouched down beside her. "Okay. Hold off on dying for exactly three more days."

Liora opened one eye. "Why three days?"

"Because." Sophia sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, completely unbothered. "Darkfang Pack is throwing a business dinner. Big one. Half the Alphas in the region will be there." She paused for effect. "Including Elias."

Both eyes open now.

"Your Elias," Sophia added, in case it wasn't clear. "The one you crashed and burned with in the park this morning."

"I didn't crash and burn."

"Niko asked if you were a stripper."

"He's six. He doesn't know what a stripper is."

"His father told him."

Liora sat up. "The point is — this dinner. How do we get in?"

Sophia smiled. "I know someone who knows someone. Leave that part to me." She handed Liora a mug. "Just make sure you look like you belong in the same room as an Alpha King."

---

The dinner was exactly as intimidating as Liora had expected. Long tables, low lighting, the kind of quiet that expensive rooms had — not silence, but a hush, like even the conversations knew to behave themselves.

She found him without trying. That seemed to keep happening.

Elias was standing near the bar at the far end of the room, alone for once, turning a glass slowly in his hand. No Niko. No phone. Just that same still, unbothered energy he carried everywhere like a coat.

Liora smoothed her dress. Walked over.

She slid into the space beside him at the bar, signaled the bartender, and started arranging the bottles in front of her with quiet focus.

Elias glanced sideways at her. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind me."

A beat.

"Are you — is that my drink?"

"It was just sitting there." She slid it gently to one side. "Don't go anywhere. Try this instead."

She finished mixing and pushed the new glass toward him. Deep red. A curl of orange peel on the rim.

Elias looked at it. Then at her.

"Let me guess." His voice was dry as sand. "Stripper by night. Bartender by hobby."

"Congratulations." Liora leaned one elbow on the bar. "You're finally starting to get to know me." She nodded at the glass. "Now don't blink. This one's called a Love Potion."

Nothing moved in his face.

"It's a thing," she continued. "Old recipe. The idea is — if you drink it, your heart races. But only for the person you're already into." She shrugged one shoulder. "Probably nothing. It's most likely just a cocktail."

Elias said nothing.

"Boring," she added.

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face did." She tilted her head. "Relax. If you feel nothing, it's just a drink, right? No harm done." She paused. "Unless—"

"Unless what."

"Unless you're scared."

The word landed quietly between them.

Elias looked at the glass. Then at Liora. His expression hadn't changed. It never seemed to change. But something shifted behind those Bay of Naples eyes, just for a second.

He picked up the glass.

Drank.

Set it down.

Liora waited. Kept her face neutral. Inside, Freya was holding her breath.

Then Elias looked at her — really looked, the way he hadn't at the park, the way he hadn't at the club — and said nothing. Just looked.

"Well?" Liora asked.

"Childish," he said finally.

But he hadn't moved away.

And his hand, still resting on the bar, was close enough to hers that she could feel the warmth coming off him in steady, quiet waves.

Freya sighed inside her like someone sinking into a warm bath.

Liora stared straight ahead and said nothing.

Maybe,Freya murmured.