POV: Asher Thorne
The silver gates of the Carter estate parted as Asher's matte black SUV rolled into the driveway, the bass from inside the mansion pulsing into the air like a living heartbeat. The pool party was already in full swing—laughs, splashes, music, and the heady scent of summer mixing with werewolf pheromones.
He stepped out of the car, his black shirt hugging his muscled chest, sleeves rolled slightly to expose his forearms. Asher had always drawn attention, but tonight, even more so. The future Alpha, tall and lean like a storm held in skin.
Behind him followed Jack, Alex, and Micha—each as powerful and dominant in aura as they were different in temperament. The crowd parted for them instinctively, the way prey makes way for predators.
"Same scene. Different party," Jack muttered, already scanning for drinks.
Before Asher could respond, a soft, high-pitched voice cut through the chatter.
"Asher!"
Irene.
She bounced toward him in a barely-there white bikini, the fabric so sheer under the string lights it may as well have not existed. Her arms coiled around him before he could dodge.
"You came," she purred, brushing her lips against his cheek. "You owe me a dance. And maybe something more."
Asher's jaw clenched. His wolf, Orbit, stirred uneasily, growling low in his chest.
Not her, Orbit snapped. Where is she?
Who? Asher asked silently, though he already knew.
Irene leaned closer, pressing her body against his. Her group of equally provocative friends began fluttering around his companions, already teasing and touching, drawing laughter and attention.
Asher looked away from Irene—and froze.
At the far end of the patio, stepping out from behind the cabana curtains, was a flash of sea-green and midnight blue.
His heart stuttered.
Aira Moonstone.
She was small and soft-looking under the string lights, wearing a flowing blue-green cover-up over a simple bikini that hinted just enough. Her hair was tied loosely, some strands falling around her face. Next to her, Lila, ever the extrovert, was practically skipping with excitement.
"She's here…" Orbit whispered reverently.
Asher's breath caught. She looked nothing like the girl in oversized hoodies and silent corners. There was elegance in her posture, a quiet glow in her smile as she looked around—unsure, but present.
Then his wolf stirred harder.
Because she smiled.
But not at him.
At Zach—who appeared like a shadow beside her. Tall, polite, and maddeningly close. The quiet, studious type… and apparently, very comfortable with Aira.
She leaned in to say something, her smile soft and shy.
Mine, Orbit growled. Mine.
Asher's fists clenched, a flicker of possessiveness rising through his chest.
Irene noticed.
She slid her arm tighter around his waist, eyes sharp with false sweetness.
"Want me to wait for you upstairs? First-floor bathroom? I know how stressed you get at parties…"
Asher didn't even glance at her.
"Fine. Go," he muttered coldly. "Wait there."
Her smile widened smugly as she sauntered away.
But Asher's eyes didn't move from the figure across the patio. From the girl everyone had dismissed.
The girl with fire in her veins.
The girl who now had his wolf pacing inside him, clawing at his ribs.
And she doesn't even know.