His Stray

Chapter 3

Present

Lucas was tired enough to skip dinner, but he knew his father expected him to make his presence known. The pack would take it as a slight if their future Alpha didn’t show up. So although he would have much rather stayed stretched out on his old bed, he forced himself up and made his way down to the dining hall.

Nothing had changed in three years. The same threadbare burgundy carpet stretched across the floor, the same round rickety tables stood covered by worn gray tablecloths. It even smelled the same, that familiar mix of old stone and hearty food. His stomach gave a small twist when he caught the scent of his favorite beef stew drifting through the room.

“Lukey-Luke!”

Lucas fought to keep the irritation from his face. Jared was striding toward him, arms open as though they were the best of friends. They had sort of been friends growing up, if you could call Jared hanging around like a barnacle and constantly mocking everyone else while laughing at his own jokes. Lucas had tolerated him more than anything. There hadn’t exactly been an abundance of decent people to choose from.

“Hey Jared,” Lucas said, forcing a small smile.

“Look at you,” Jared said, clapping him on the shoulder a little too hard. “All grown up, the big bad Alpha-to-be. You gonna make us run extra drills? Or just keep letting your dad whip us into shape while you sip wine with the council, huh?”

Lucas gave a short laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll try not to disrupt your busy schedule.”

Jared grinned, clearly missing the edge in Lucas’s voice. “Good man. I like my naps.” Then he wandered off, already calling to someone else across the hall.

Lucas exhaled, shoulders loosening only slightly. He made it a few more steps before Hendrix stepped into his path.

“Lucas,” Hendrix drawled, eyes sharp and assessing. The Beta heir was three years older, taller by a few inches, and carried himself like the pack was lucky to have him. Which Hendrix probably believed.

“Hendrix,” Lucas said, dipping his head in polite greeting.

Hendrix smirked. “So how does it feel? Taking the title your brother was supposed to have?”

Lucas tensed. “That’s not really something I…”

“I suppose it’s for the best,” Hendrix cut in. “Everyone knows Landon wasn’t… bright enough for it. Shame we’re stuck with the spare though. Better than nothing, I guess.”

Lucas ground his teeth together. “I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

Hendrix raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “See that you don’t.” Then he moved on, leaving Lucas’s blood humming with quiet fury.

He rubbed the back of his neck and kept walking, trying to shake off Hendrix’s smug words. He didn’t get far before Jeremiah found him, sliding up with an easy grin. Jeremiah was the gamma’s oldest son, only a year older than him, but with none of Hendrix’s smug attitude.

“Lucas! Finally back. You look older.” Jeremiah clapped him on the shoulder, but gently, with none of Jared’s overeager force. “Relaxed, even. That’ll fade soon enough.”

Lucas actually laughed, feeling some of the tension slip away. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Just wait until your dad starts sending you all his schedules. By the way, you dodged this year’s tax paperwork. I’m still mad about that.”

Lucas smirked. “I’ll owe you.”

“You’ll owe me a lot. I kept things from falling apart while you were off learning how to be proper and council-approved.”

Jeremiah’s teasing was light, but Lucas appreciated it. Jeremiah was sharp, reliable, and didn’t treat him like he was something to be impressed by or picked apart. They talked a little longer before Jeremiah was pulled away by one of the elders.

By the time the hall began to empty, Lucas realized he’d barely touched his food. The stew was really good, but he’d been too on edge to enjoy it. Still, it reminded him of simpler days. Childhood dinners where he could sneak extra rolls under the table to Landon or make silly faces at Celia when his father wasn’t looking.

Thinking of her made his stomach twist in a different way.

He stood, pushing in his chair, and decided he would go thank the cook. It felt like something an Alpha’s son should do. Besides, he wanted to see Lenore, maybe tell her the stew was still the best he’d ever had.

It didn’t occur to him that it might not be Lenore standing behind those kitchen doors anymore.

**

The dining hall was emptying out, according to Darcy. Celia had flat-out refused to go out there herself, but that wasn’t unusual enough for anyone to comment. Celia generally liked to stay out of sight when it came to the pack.

She didn’t tell them it was because she wasn’t sure she could stand to see Lucas yet. Just the thought of him being on the other side of those doors made her stomach twist uncomfortably. Darcy, oblivious, had given a cheerful play-by-play that only wore on Celia’s frayed nerves.

Finally, Brady popped in to tell her the dining hall was nearly clear. Celia shooed them all out. Most of the dishes were washed, leftovers stored, and warming trays scrubbed and set for breakfast. There was only some minor cleaning left, and Celia always liked being the one to close the kitchen. It reminded her of nights with her mom, tag-teaming chores, blasting old songs and dancing between counters.

When the door clicked shut behind them, Celia pulled out her mother’s playlist and turned up one of her favorite songs. She hummed under her breath, swaying a little as she moved with a rag and disinfectant spray.

But Ariadne, her wolf, had started pacing in her mind partway through dinner and hadn’t stopped since. Every time Celia asked what was wrong, her wolf only gave her a restless, unsettled swirl of emotion. Something was coming. Ariadne just didn’t know what.

Celia was scrubbing down one of the large stainless steel islands when the kitchen door swung open and a familiar scent crashed over her. Bergamot and sage. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

Only now his scent was different. Stronger. Richer. It wrapped around her, sinking into her bones, making her hands shake. Ariadne threw her head back in a silent howl.

Mate!

The bottle slipped from her fingers, clattering on the floor. Celia’s eyes flew up.

Lucas stood frozen just inside the door. His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white. He had the same chestnut hair, though it was shorter now, neat on the sides with enough length on top to still look a little unruly. Those golden honey eyes she used to lose herself in were locked on her like he couldn’t look away.

He’d filled out since he left. His shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, tapering to lean hips. He was broader, older, everything her seventeen-year-old heart had once dreamed of.

It felt like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed. Seeing him was equal parts agony and joy.

He was back. Her first friend. Her first kiss. Her first love. Her first heartbreak.

“Celia.” His voice was a rasp, wrecked, and she watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips. That tiny gesture hit her like a spark to dry tinder. Suddenly she felt like that girl again, who had loved him so deeply, so recklessly, she hadn’t realized how easily she could burn.

He took a step toward her. “Celia, please.”

The mate bond roared to life between them, her wolf clawing at her insides to go to him, to touch him, to complete it. Ariadne whined, desperate. Celia’s hands flew to her chest, fingers curling in her apron like she could hold herself together.

“No,” she breathed. “No, I can’t do this.”

“Celia.” He reached for her.

She stumbled back, shaking her head. Panic crowded out every other feeling, even the bond tugging at her heart. Before he could get another word out, she turned and fled through the swinging door into the back hall, the sound of his voice following her as she ran.