The Alpha Who Broke Me

CHAPTER TWELVE

KAIA

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, carefully applying a final touch of mascara for my first date with Lewis tonight. It's been exactly seven days since I stormed out of Vincent's office, and I have barely spoken to him except necessary at work.

The navy blue dress I chose hugs my curves in all the right places without being too revealing—elegant but approachable. I want to look good for Lewis, to give this a real chance.

I know I still have complicated feelings about Vincent, and my wolf might not recognize Lewis as her mate, but his wolf recognized me. There has to be a reason for that. And there's definitely an undeniable pull between us that I can't ignore. I'm eager to see where this could lead.

I step out of my room and find Mom waiting in the hallway, her face lighting up when she sees me.

"What do you think?" I ask, doing a small turn.

"Beautiful," she says, genuine warmth in her voice. "It's so good to see you moving on from... well, you know."

It’s been forever since I’ve dressed up for anyone, and the butterflies fluttering in my stomach remind me of a simpler time before being Vincent’s ex complicated everything.

I wonder if he’s noticed my absence from the office coffee machine this week, or if he even cares that I’ve been avoiding any interaction beyond the absolutely necessary.

"You really think this looks okay?" I ask, smoothing down the front of my dress.

"Yes, dear, you look amazing," Mom says, walking closer and giving my arm a warm squeeze. "And I'm glad you didn't cancel. You deserve this."

Just then, my phone buzzes in my purse. I pick it up to see a text from Lewis: "I'm outside."

I quickly text back: "Be down in a minute."

I kiss Mom goodbye and head for the front door. Part of me still can't believe I'm doing this. The last time I put myself out there, it ended in heartbreak. But something about Lewis feels different. Maybe it's the mate bond, or maybe it's the gentle way he looks at me, like I'm precious but not fragile.

I open the front door, and there he stands—Lewis in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that accentuates his broad shoulders, holding a stunning bouquet of wildflowers.

"For you," he says, his eyes never leaving mine as he extends the flowers. There's no hesitation in his gaze, no uncertainty—just warmth and a hint of something more intense.

"Thank you," I say, accepting them with a genuine smile. They smell wonderful—not the typical roses, but an enchanting mix of wildflowers that reminds me of running through the forest on a clear night. "These are beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," he says, and despite the cliché, the sincerity in his voice makes heat rise to my cheeks.

I duck my head slightly, smiling. "You look amazing too." The suit complements his athletic frame perfectly, and for a moment, Vincent's warning feels very far away.

Lewis smiles, clearly appreciating the compliment. "Car's waiting," he says, holding out his hand.

I take it, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. "Let's go," I say, feeling lighter than I have in years.

***

We drive for about twenty minutes, the conversation flowing easily between us. I'm surprised by how comfortable I feel with him already, how natural it is to laugh at his jokes and share small pieces of my day. When the car finally comes to a stop, I look out the window, expecting to see the restaurant he'd mentioned earlier.

Instead, we're parked near the edge of a forest preserve, trees stretching out before us into the darkening evening.

"Are we in the right place?" I ask, confusion evident in my voice.

Lewis just smiles mysteriously. "Trust me?"

I hesitate for only a second before nodding. "Lead the way."

He comes around to open my door and offers his hand, which I take.

The evening air is cool against my skin as we walk toward the tree line, and I find myself wondering what exactly he has planned. The forest is mostly dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the rising moon.

"Should I be worried that you're taking me into the woods for our first date?" I tease, though I know I'm perfectly safe with him.

"Just a few more steps," he promises, squeezing my hand gently.

Suddenly, the path ahead lights up—hundreds of tiny string lights blink on at once, illuminating a trail through the trees.

I gasp, taken completely by surprise as the forest transforms around us. Lights are wrapped around tree trunks, hanging from branches, creating a magical canopy above our heads.

"Lewis... this is..." I'm at a loss for words as we follow the illuminated path, which eventually opens into a small clearing.

In the center sits a beautifully set table for two, surrounded by more lights arranged in various patterns across the ground. Candles flicker on the table, which is draped with a white tablecloth and set with fine china. Just beyond, I can see what appears to be a small portable kitchen where someone is busily preparing food.

"Do you like it?" Lewis asks, and I detect a rare note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Like it? This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me," I admit, tears threatening to form.

For so long, I've been focused on survival—on staying away from pack politics, on guarding my heart after Vincent's betrayal, on simply getting through each day without looking back. This moment of pure romance, of being treated as something precious, catches me completely off guard.

Lewis pulls out my chair, and I sit, still taking in the magical setting around us. "How did you even do all this?"

"I have connections," he says with a smile, taking the seat across from me. "And being Alpha has its perks." He signals to someone behind me, and soft music begins to play—not recorded, but live.

I turn to see a small ensemble of musicians in the corner of the clearing, playing a melody that seems to perfectly match the enchanted atmosphere.

"I can't believe you did this," I say, genuinely touched by the effort he's put into this evening.

"I wanted it to be special," he says simply. "To show you that I meant what I said about taking this seriously."

I smile, genuinely touched by his words. The sincerity in his eyes makes something warm unfurl in my chest.

***

The night unfolds like something from a dream. The food is exquisite—each course better than the last. We talk for hours, and I find myself opening up about things I rarely share: my dreams of owning a bakery one day, my secret love of old black and white films.

"I always wanted to be a photographer," Lewis confesses after I share my own aspirations. "Before pack responsibilities took over."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed that," I say, intrigued by this new side of him.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” he says with a smile that makes my heart skip. “But I’m hoping we’ll have plenty of time to change that.”

As we sip wine under the canopy of lights, I find myself studying him—the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the thoughtful expression that crosses his face when he's listening intently to me.

He's nothing like Vincent, I realize. Where Vincent was always calculating, always positioning himself for advantage, Lewis is present—genuinely interested in what I have to say.

"What?" he asks, catching me watching him.

"Just... wondering how we ended up here," I admit. "A week ago, I didn't think I'd ever have this again."

"Have what?"

"This feeling," I say softly. "Like maybe things could be good again."

His hand finds mine across the table, warm and reassuring. "They can be," he says. "If you'll let them."

I nod, warmth spreading through me at his words. It’s easy, this—being with him. Too easy.

For so long, I’ve associated love with tension, with conflict, with a pull so strong it left me breathless. But with Lewis, there’s no resistance. No push and pull. Just steadiness. Certainty.

I should be grateful for that. I am grateful for that.

So why does a small part of me wonder if love is supposed to feel… more?

The music changes to something slower, more intimate. For a brief moment, Vincent’s face flashes in my mind—the way he looked when I walked out of his office, the hurt and anger in his dark eyes. I push the thought away. Tonight isn’t about him.

Lewis stands and extends his hand. “Dance with me?”

In the middle of the forest, surrounded by twinkling lights and soft music, I step into his arms. As we sway together, his hand warm against the small of my back, I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I'm not thinking about the past or worrying about the future. I'm simply here, in this perfect moment, with a man who makes me feel like I might deserve a second chance after all.