Chapter 12: The Meeting at the Bar

Lucas POV 

I forgot I had a goal and a mission to catch up with when I saw Lila; even the thought of confronting Fidel faded away.

“She’s not like the others,” I murmured to myself, my voice low and gruff, nearly drowned out by the hum of the crowded bar.

“What are you talking about?” my wolf replied, its deep voice echoing in my mind.

I leaned back in my seat, my sharp gaze fixed on the woman at the far end of the room. “Her,” I said simply. “The one with Fidel.”

My wolf growled in response, a sound both possessive and intrigued. “She’s ours.”

“Don’t,” I muttered, my jaw tightening. “We don’t know anything about her.”

“I know enough.”

The claim in my wolf’s voice sent a shiver through me. I shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind the statement. My instincts were screaming, a primal recognition surging through me the moment I saw her.

But I wasn’t ready to accept it.

From my vantage point in the dimly lit corner, I could see everything. The way her laughter lit up the room, the effortless grace in her movements, and the sharp intelligence in her eyes.

“She’s intriguing,” my wolf said, its tone quieter now, as though in reverence.

“She’s dangerous,” I replied, taking a slow sip of my whiskey.

“Danger excites you.”

I didn’t answer, my focus narrowing as I watched her interact with Fidel. The man’s possessive behavior didn’t escape me. Fidel’s hand lingered on her arm, his proximity too close for my liking.

A low growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it.

“Control yourself,” I muttered under my breath, earning a curious glance from a passerby. I ignored them, my attention unwavering.

“Why does she matter?” I asked myself aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You already know why.” My wolf’s answer was immediate, certain.

“She’s with him,” I countered, my tone laced with irritation.

“She’s not his.”

The declaration hit me like a bolt of lightning. My wolf’s conviction was absolute, unshakable. I clenched my fists, the leather of my gloves creaking under the pressure.

“She’s trouble,” I insisted, trying to convince myself more than anyone else.

“She’s ours.”

The words echoed in my mind, relentless and undeniable.

The bartender approached, refilling my glass with practiced efficiency. “Something on your mind?” he asked, his tone casual.

I didn’t reply immediately. I glanced at him, then back at the woman. “Just observing,” I said finally.

The bartender chuckled, following my line of sight. “She’s a looker, isn’t she? Fidel’s got good taste.”

My jaw tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. “Fidel’s a fool,” I said, my voice colder than intended.

The bartender raised an eyebrow but wisely chose not to press further.

I leaned forward slightly, my elbows resting on the bar. The closer I observed, the more I noticed the subtle tension in her posture. Her smile, though radiant, didn’t reach her eyes.

“She’s playing a game,” I murmured, more to myself than to my wolf.

“She’s playing him,” my wolf corrected, its tone approving. “She’s smart.”

“She’s trouble,” I repeated, but my conviction was wavering.

“Trouble worth having.”

My instincts sharpened as Fidel leaned closer to her, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh softly. The sound sent a jolt through me, my wolf growling in response.

“Enough,” I said under my breath, my tone firm.

But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, couldn’t shake the pull she had on me. It was magnetic, undeniable.

“You feel it too,” my wolf said, its voice softer now, almost tender.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The truth was too unsettling.

I watched as she moved away from Fidel, her steps graceful and confident as she approached the bar. She was close now, close enough that I could catch the faintest hint of her scent—something earthy and wild, with a hint of sweetness that made my head spin.

My wolf howled in approval, its excitement barely contained. “Ours.”

“Quiet,” I snapped, my voice harsh. But my resolve was crumbling.

She ordered a drink, her voice smooth and melodic. I strained to hear her words, but the noise of the bar drowned them out. It didn’t matter. Every detail about her was etched into my mind.

Her presence filled the room, commanding attention without effort. My chest tightened, the primal connection growing stronger with every passing second.

“This isn’t good,” I muttered, draining my glass.

“It’s perfect,” my wolf argued. “Approach her.”

“No.” The denial was instant, but the urge was overwhelming. My body tensed, every muscle coiled as though ready to act on instinct.

My hand tightened around my empty glass. My breathing slowed, deliberate and measured, as I fought to maintain control.

“She doesn’t even know I exist,” I said aloud, my tone bitter.

“She will.”

The confidence in my wolf’s voice was maddening. I wanted to argue, to push back against the primal force threatening to consume me. But deep down, I knew it was futile.

As she turned back toward Fidel, I felt a pang of something I couldn’t name. Jealousy? Possessiveness? Whatever it was, it ignited a fire in me I hadn’t felt in years.

“She’s not yours,” I reminded myself, the words hollow even to my own ears.

“She’s ours,” my wolf repeated, unrelenting.

I exhaled sharply, my frustration boiling over. I stood abruptly, the movement drawing a few curious glances. I ignored them, my focus solely on her.

But I didn’t approach her. Not yet.

The time wasn’t right. The connection was undeniable, but I was a strategist above all else. I wouldn’t act on impulse, no matter how strong the pull.

Instead, I turned away, my steps deliberate as I left the bar. My mind raced, a whirlwind of emotions I couldn’t fully process.

“She’s different,” I admitted finally, my voice barely audible.

“She’s ours,” my wolf said again, its tone filled with quiet certainty.

I didn’t respond. The truth was already etched into my soul.

Confronting Destiny

“She’s still there,” I muttered under my breath, my gaze unwavering as it fixed on her. She leaned back in her chair, laughing softly at something Fidel said, her presence commanding every ounce of my attention.

“Go to her,” my wolf growled impatiently. “We’ve waited long enough.”

“I can’t just walk up to her,” I countered, my voice low with frustration.

“Why not? She’s your mate. You’ve felt it since the moment you saw her. There’s no denying it.”  

___________________

"She’s with Fidel," I reminded my wolf, my jaw tightening as the words escaped my mouth. The very thought sent a pang of frustration coursing through me. "And he’s part of my pack."  

"You’re the Alpha," my wolf shot back, its voice laced with indignation. "Fidel works for you. You have every right."  

I clenched my fists, my internal conflict surging like a storm threatening to break free. Yes, I was Fidel’s Alpha, but my position demanded more than just brute strength—it required respect, control, and careful judgment. Barging into Fidel’s personal matters without cause would not only be reckless; it would undermine everything I stood for as a leader.  

"She’s not just any woman," I whispered, my voice betraying the mix of awe and anguish I felt deep in my chest.  

"Then stop acting like she is," my wolf growled, its impatience matching my own internal turmoil.  

---

Leaning back in my chair, I let my sharp gaze settle on her. Every movement she made, every sound of her laughter, sent a ripple through me. The pull between us was undeniable, a magnetic force that had my wolf pacing restlessly within me, urging me to act. But approaching her now, while she was with Fidel, required more than raw instinct—it demanded precision, strategy, and timing.  

And yet, as I watched her, my resolve began to crumble. Each passing moment I stayed away felt like a betrayal, as though I was denying a bond that was etched into my very soul.  

"Reckless," I muttered under my breath, standing abruptly, my movements deliberate yet charged with urgency.  

"Destiny," my wolf corrected, its voice steady, filled with unshakable conviction.  

---

I moved through the crowd, each step feeling as though the universe itself was conspiring to clear my path. Patrons instinctively stepped aside, my presence parting them like waves against a determined tide. The invisible bond between us tightened with every passing second, each step bringing me closer to her.  

The moment I reached the table, her laughter stilled. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and the world seemed to halt.  

My breath caught in my chest. Her gaze was piercing, sharp and inquisitive, a fire that matched the storm raging within me.  

"Alpha," Fidel greeted stiffly, his tone carrying an uneasy mixture of respect and confusion. He rose from his seat, instinctively acknowledging the shift in power that filled the room.  

I didn’t spare him a glance. My focus remained entirely on her.  

"Hello, mate," I said, my deep voice resonating with an authority and certainty I knew she couldn’t ignore.  

---

Her eyes widened, surprise flickering briefly across her face before it was replaced by a cool, calculated expression. She tilted her head, studying me with a mix of curiosity and defiance.  

"Mate?" she repeated, her tone skeptical, as though testing my resolve. "I think you’ve got the wrong person."  

A small smile curved my lips. "I don’t make mistakes."  

Fidel shifted uncomfortably beside her, his confusion giving way to irritation. "Alpha, is there something I should know?"  

Finally, I acknowledged him, my gaze sharp and commanding. "Step aside, Fidel."  

He hesitated, torn between loyalty and pride. But even Fidel knew better than to challenge me directly. Slowly, reluctantly, he stepped back, his jaw tight with frustration.  

"Lila," Fidel began, his tone tinged with possessiveness, "I don’t think—"  

"Enough," I said, my voice calm but final, the authority behind it leaving no room for argument.  

Fidel clenched his jaw but lowered his gaze, his silent submission an acknowledgment of the hierarchy that governed us both.  

---

Lila arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the exchange. "You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  

I chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. "It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s meant to be."  

Her wolf stirred faintly, a flicker of recognition she tried to suppress. But I saw it, felt it. She knew. Somewhere deep down, she knew.  

"I don’t know what game you’re playing," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil I knew she felt, "but I’m not interested."  

I leaned in slightly, my piercing gaze locking onto hers. "This isn’t a game."  

"Could’ve fooled me," she shot back, her defiance sharp and unyielding.  

---

Fidel cleared his throat, clearly desperate to regain control of the situation. "Alpha, she is—"  

I held up a hand, silencing him instantly. My gaze softened as I turned back to her.  

"I know this is sudden," I said, my voice low and steady, each word deliberate. "But you feel it too. Don’t deny it."  

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the mask of indifference she wore faltered.  

"You don’t know anything about me," she said defensively, her voice carrying an edge that barely masked her vulnerability.  

"I know enough," I replied, my tone steady, unwavering. "I know you’re strong. I know you’re fierce. And I know you’re mine."  

The words lingered between us, heavy with the weight of unspoken promises.  

---

Fidel stepped forward again, his frustration reaching its peak. "Lila, let’s go," he said, his voice low and urgent.  

My jaw tightened, but I kept my composure. Fidel was my pack member, my subordinate. I couldn’t afford to let personal emotions compromise my authority.  

"Fidel," I said evenly, my gaze never leaving hers. "This isn’t your fight."  

He hesitated, torn between loyalty and emotion. But after a moment, he nodded reluctantly, stepping back once more, his frustration clear in every tense movement.  

Lila’s gaze flicked between us, her irritation tempered by a hint of amusement. "Well, this has been entertaining," she said dryly, her tone thick with sarcasm. "But I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night."  

She stood gracefully, her movements deliberate, her gaze challenging as it met mine. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Alpha."  

And then she walked away, leaving me standing there, my wolf howling in protest.  

---

I watched her go, my chest tight with the weight of the moment. She was my mate—the one I’d been waiting for—and yet she walked away as though our connection was meaningless.  

"She’ll come around," my wolf murmured, its voice filled with quiet certainty.  

I let out a heavy breath, my resolve hardening. "She has to."  

Turning back to Fidel, I found him avoiding my gaze, his frustration palpable.  

"Fidel," I said, my tone firm but not harsh. "We’ll talk later."  

"Yes, Alpha," he replied, his voice clipped.  

With one last glance in the direction Lila had gone, I left the bar, my thoughts already consumed with plans for our next encounter. This wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning.