Chapter 18
Kaelen slowed his pace as he moved deeper into the building.
The pull was still there, not sharp enough to stagger him, not violent enough to force his hand but persistent. It threaded through his chest like a tension wire pulled too tight.
He should have stopped but he ignored it and kept walking.
The corridor lights were dimmed for the night cycle and motion sensors flickering on ahead of him and shutting off behind him.
His footsteps echoed softly against polished floors, the sound grounding him more than anything else.
He adjusted his breathing, steady and measured. This wasn’t the Sacred Valley, there were too many people above him, too many variables.
Letting the curse slip, even slightly, wasn’t an option. It would start a chaos but his wolf pressed forward anyway, not raging, not snarling but aware.
Kaelen clenched his jaw, his fingers curling at his sides as the pressure tightened, tugging him subtly left, then forward again.
It wanted him to follow, wanted him closer to something.
“No,” he muttered under his breath. “Not now p>
He slowed, forcing his body to respond to him and not the instinct clawing beneath his skin.
Each step became deliberate and calculated. He focused on sensation he could control, the feel of the floor beneath his boots, the steady rhythm of his heart and the faint hum of electricity in the walls.
The pull resisted at first and then flared suddenly, sharp enough to make his vision blur for a fraction of a second.
Kaelen stopped.
His hand brushed the wall as he grounded himself, his shoulders tense with every muscle locked in place.
The curse surged, testing the boundaries he had built over years of discipline.
And then slowly, painfully, the pressure eased, retreating just enough for him to straighten.
Sweat had broken along his spine and his control was stretched thin but it was still intact.
The wolf receded a step, restless and dissatisfied.
Kaelen exhaled through his nose. The pull here wasn’t wild, it was precise and focused like something was anchoring it from the other end.
And that thought unsettled him more than the strain.
He resumed walking, slower now, aware that whatever he was moving toward was closer than before.
And that the curse, no matter how tightly he held it, had already recognized its direction.
Just then his eyes landed on the half open door which led to the staircase.
He stopped but the strong sensation he felt in his chest forced him to continue walking.
And as he ascended the stairs, the pull kept getting stronger with each step.
[Twenty-second Floor]
Lyra’s screen blurred not because she was tired but because the pressure sharpened suddenly, tight enough to steal her breath and deep enough to make her chest ache.
Her fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard as she tried to steady herself.
This wasn’t like before.
She pushed her chair back slowly, forcing herself to stand without drawing attention.
“I—uh,” she said, keeping her voice even as she glanced toward Jacob. “I need some air. I will be right back p>
Jacob barely looked up. “Take your time p>
Lyra nodded and walked quickly toward the hallway, her steps light but urgent.
The further she moved from the Operations floor, the worse it became, like the air itself had thickened around her.
When she reached the elevator bank, she stopped.
The doors slid open with a soft chime and something inside her recoiled.
Her stomach twisted hard, instinct screaming ’no p>
It was not fear, not logic, just a sudden certainty that stepping into that closed space would make everything worse.
And she didn’t question it.
Lyra turned sharply and headed for the stairwell instead, pushing through the heavy door and taking the steps two at a time.
The stairwell was quiet, echoing, the concrete walls cool beneath her palm as she steadied herself against the railing.
Each step down eased the pressure slightly, just enough to let her breathe.
She didn’t know why.
But halfway down, she slowed as her heart started pounding again.
The sensation spiked again and Lyra grabbed the railing, knuckles whitening.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t anxiety or nerves, it was response.
She continued downward, hoping for the sensation to disappear, unaware of the Alpha moving through the floors below her.
The stairwell echoed with Lyra’s uneven breathing.
She slowed as she reached the next landing, one hand braced against the railing and the other pressed lightly to her ribs as if that could steady whatever was happening inside her.
The pressure hadn’t faded, if anything, it had grown sharper and focused.
She hesitated, then pushed open the heavy door.
The corridor beyond was dim, lights reduced for the night cycle. It was empty and silent.
She looked around and realized she was on the twenty-first floor.
When she took one step out and froze.
At the far end of the hallway, a tall figure stood motionless, half-shadowed beneath the overhead lights, broad shoulders, dark coat and the stillness so complete that it felt deliberate.
Her heart slammed hard against her chest.
He hadn’t seen her yet.
Lyra’s instincts screamed at her to turn back and to retreat the way she had come but her feet refused to move.
The pressure inside her spiked painfully, stealing the breath from her lungs.
At the same moment, Kaelen felt it.
The pull surged without warning, violent enough to snap his focus completely.
He stopped short with every muscle locking as his wolf lunged hard against the restraints he had forced into place.
’There,’ his wolf lunged.
His head lifted slowly.
The corridor stretched ahead of him was empty at first glance until something shifted at the edge of his vision.
A presence which was close, too close.
Kaelen’s control wavered, just for a heartbeat.
The air between them tightened. It was charged and humming, like the moment before a storm breaks.
Lyra took a small, involuntary step back while Kaelen stepped forward at the exact same time p>