The Alpha’s Eternal Mate

Lyra stood in the mirror of her suite, staring at her reflection with a detached gaze. The woman looking back at her was a far cry from the Luna she had once been—her eyes darker, her body leaner, hardened by the weight of a life lost and reclaimed in secrecy.

Today wasn't just another day inside Midnight Crest Tower. Today, she would be walking straight into danger.

Ethan's plan was simple—too simple, in Lyra's opinion. Set a trap, lure out the traitors, and eliminate them. But nothing was ever that easy. Not in Ethan's world, and certainly not in hers.

A knock at the door broke her thoughts.

She turned to see Logan leaning against the frame, his ever-present smirk in place. "Ready for your grand debut?"

Lyra sighed, grabbing her leather jacket from the chair. "I'm walking into a trap, not a fashion show."

Logan chuckled, but his eyes held a rare glimmer of concern. "Just... be careful. Ethan won't say it, but he's got all eyes on you tonight."

Lyra pulled on her jacket, adjusting the collar. "Yeah, I gathered that."

Logan hesitated before stepping closer. "I mean it, Lyra. These people—whoever's behind this—they're not like the usual threats we deal with."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "You think I don't know that?"

Logan studied her for a moment before nodding. "Ethan's waiting downstairs. Don't keep him waiting too long—he's already in a mood."

Lyra smirked, brushing past him. "When is he not?"

Midnight Crest Tower – Lobby

Ethan stood near the entrance, his dark presence impossible to ignore. Dressed in his usual black suit, he exuded control, his eyes sharp and calculating as he spoke quietly to one of his men.

Lyra approached, feeling the weight of his gaze on her before she even reached him.

"You're late," he said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Lyra shrugged. "Fashionably so."

Ethan's eyes darkened. "Do you understand how dangerous this is?"

She met his gaze, unwavering. "Yes."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn't argue. Instead, he motioned for Logan to step forward, handing Lyra a small earpiece.

"We'll be monitoring you from the outside," Ethan said, his voice low and firm. "If anything feels off, you get out. No heroics."

Lyra smirked, inserting the earpiece. "I make no promises."

Ethan's lips thinned, but he didn't argue. "Let's go."

The Black Lotus Club

The Black Lotus was the kind of place that thrived in the underworld—dimly lit, filled with smoke and whispers, where deals were made with blood-stained hands. Lyra walked through the entrance, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she took in the crowd.

Every instinct screamed at her to stay alert.

Ethan's voice crackled through her earpiece. "You're in."

Lyra's eyes scanned the room. "Yeah, I noticed."

She moved through the club with purpose, ignoring the lingering stares of strangers. Her target was seated in a private booth near the back—a man she recognized from the surveillance footage taken at Westwood's estate.

Malcolm Westwood's right-hand man.

Lyra approached with a slow, confident stride, sliding into the seat across from him without invitation.

The man, a wiry figure with sharp eyes, raised an eyebrow. "Brave of you to sit here, little wolf."

Lyra leaned back, crossing her legs. "I'm not little. And I'm not afraid."

The man smirked, swirling the drink in his hand. "That's what they all say."

From her earpiece, Ethan's voice was a quiet growl. "Stay sharp, Lyra."

Lyra smiled coolly. "I have a proposition."

The man's eyes gleamed with interest. "I'm listening."

Leaning forward, Lyra lowered her voice. "I know what you've been doing. The smuggling, the money laundering… but I also know that whoever's pulling your strings isn't happy with Ethan's involvement."

The man's smirk faltered, just slightly.

Bingo.

Lyra pressed on. "I want in."

The man studied her, suspicion flickering in his dark eyes. "You want in?"

Lyra nodded, forcing a nonchalant smile. "Ethan isn't the only Alpha with power. Maybe I'm tired of standing in his shadow."

Silence stretched between them before the man finally chuckled. "You've got guts. I'll give you that."

Lyra flicked her gaze around the club. "So, do we have a deal or not?"

The man leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're either the smartest woman in this club... or the deadliest fool."

Lyra smiled. "I like to think I'm a little of both."

The man studied her for a moment longer before sliding a small black envelope across the table. "Consider this a test."

Lyra picked it up, feeling the weight of Ethan's gaze through the earpiece.

She stood slowly, flashing the man a coy smile. "I'll be in touch."

As she walked away, her pulse pounded in her ears. She made it outside without looking back, slipping into the waiting SUV where Ethan sat in the driver's seat.

He didn't say anything at first, just stared straight ahead.

Finally, he spoke, his voice dangerously low. "What the hell was that?"

Lyra tossed the envelope onto the dashboard. "A lead."

Ethan's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "You could've gotten yourself killed."

Lyra met his glare head-on. "But I didn't."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought he might actually yell. But instead, he exhaled sharply, starting the car.

"This isn't a game, Lyra."

She looked out the window, her expression unreadable. "I know."

Ethan's knuckles turned white against the wheel. "Next time, you don't make the call. I do."

Lyra said nothing, but deep down, she knew—this was just the beginning.

The trap was set.

And soon, the real enemy would show their face.