Chapter 3

I jerked my head up—and crashed straight into a pair of eyes, sharp and blazing like fire against the midnight sky.

“Paul?!” My chest tightened, my breath stilled.

He released me at once. Beneath the shadow of his hood, a flicker of heat colored his face, as though my shock had set him alight as well.

“Nina… what are you doing here?”

“You… you were supposed to be dead.” My voice shook with disbelief.

Paul scratched the back of his neck, flashing a crooked grin that revealed a sharp canine. But behind the smile lingered exhaustion and shadows.

“There was a traitor in the Northern patrol. That rogue attack? I had to fake my death to lure them out.”

“You dared to pull off something like that?” My astonishment was genuine.

His smile vanished. His voice dropped low, his eyes slicing into me like blades.

“Did you always think I was just a muscle-bound Beta—incapable of using my brain?”

My heart felt as though a wolf’s claw had ripped it open.

For the first time, I saw him clearly—not as the Pack’s so-called “reckless brute,” but as the man who bore danger and bloodshed alone.

I clutched his hand tightly, my words urgent.

“Listen to me! Whatever trail you’re following, you must come back before the 7th—before the wedding.”

His pupils shrank, his breath hitched, his voice breaking as he rasped,

“I’ll be there—at your wedding.”

“You idiot!” I nearly stamped my foot as I shouted, “You’re the groom—”

But it seemed he hadn’t heard me.

“Chief! The traitor’s fleeing west!” a voice shouted from the mouth of the alley.

Paul’s eyes flickered. He stepped back, pain etched in the restraint of his tone.

“This place isn’t safe. Go home, Nina. I promise—I’ll come.”

And with that, he turned and vanished into the storm and shadows.

I stood frozen, waves crashing in my chest.

In my last life, among Father’s ten adopted “sons,” Paul had been the most overlooked.

The Pack had called him nothing but a brawler—a wild wolf. Unlike Grant, polished and pampered by the Alpha Council.

But now I knew—the dirtiest, deadliest missions had always fallen on Paul’s shoulders.

He was the true warrior of the Flame Pack.

Back at the estate, I edited the digital wedding invitations—and sent one directly to him.

It wasn’t until midnight that my screen lit up.

[Nina, you wrote the groom’s name wrong.]

After a long pause, another line appeared:

[Don’t worry. I’ll be there.]

A soft laugh slipped from my lips.

He still didn’t believe me. That was fine. Once he returned, I would tell him to his face.

Meanwhile, Grant’s messages poured in one after another—

[You need to apologize to Faye.]

[Stop being so stubborn.]

Without hesitation, I blocked him.

For the first time in my life, my heart felt clear as crystal—

because now I knew Paul was alive.