Lucas POV
I woke up with a boner.
A fucking wet dream.
Not the soft, half-asleep kind. The kind that made my stomach tighten and my breath come out rough. Thick. Heavy. Throbbing against the sheets like it was angry at me for ignoring it.
I stared at the ceiling and seriously questioned every decision I had ever made.
I hadn’t woken up like this in years. Not after sex. Not after wanting someone. My body usually listened. Tonight it didn’t. It wanted her with a kind of hunger that felt almost embarrassing.
Maya.
Of course it was Maya.
The dream was still there, stuck under my skin, vivid and unforgiving. She was on her knees between my legs, behind my desk, mouth warm and wet around me, eyes looking up like she wanted to be ruined by me. The wet heat of her mouth. The way her tongue moved against me like she was learning a language she had always been meant to speak. Like she was starving.
When she trembled, I felt it in my own bones. A shiver that started in her spine and rippled through her whole body, making her grip my thighs tighter, as if she was afraid I would disappear if she let go.
She had tasted like a poison I would swallow willingly. Sweet and dangerous and addictive. Something that should have come with a warning label, but instead came wrapped in her scent and her heat and the soft, broken sounds she made when she took me deeper.
That sound.
My cock jerked at the memory.
I hadn’t had a wet dream since I was sixteen. Sixteen. I was a grown man. I ran a pack. I made decisions that affected hundreds of lives. And yet here I was, at the crack of dawn, hard as a rock because of her.
And the worst part? We hadn’t even gone all the way.
I had stopped. I had pulled back. I had been the one to say no—because she was drunk, because she thought I was someone else, because I refused to be a replacement for my brother.
And now I was stuck with the memory of what I hadn’t done. The weight of her against me. The heat of her breath on my skin. The way she had begged me not to stop.
I should have taken her.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut, low and possessive and completely unwelcome. I should have taken her right there, made her forget my brother’s name, made her scream mine until she couldn’t remember anyone else.
I rubbed my face with both hands and groaned.
"Get it together, Lucas."
My body was not listening. It was still stuck in the dream, and it was making its opinion very clear.
I glanced down at myself and sighed. "Unbelievable."
I forced myself out of bed and took a cold shower. It did almost nothing. The water was freezing, but my skin still felt like it was burning. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Her lips. Her hands. The way she had looked at me when I told her to stop. The way she had looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
That sound she made when I pushed her back onto the bed.
The tremor in her thighs.
The way her body had answered mine like it already knew who it belonged to.
I turned the water colder and pressed my forehead against the tile. The frustration was a living thing, coiling in my chest, sinking its teeth into me and refusing to let go.
I had never been this sexually frustrated. Not to the point of dreaming about sex. Not to the point of waking up throbbing like a horny teenager. Not to the point of feeling like I would burn alive if I didn’t have her.
She wasn’t yours.
The thought hit me again, colder than the water.
She wasn’t mine. She had never been mine. She loved my brother. She was going to marry my brother. And I was just the twin who watched from the shadows, wanting something I could never have.
I dressed with the same precision I used for everything else in my life. Black suit. Dark shirt. No trace of the chaos underneath. By the time I walked into the conference room, my expression was blank again.
But the hunger remained.
****
The long table was already full. Caleb sat to my right, looking as bored and unreadable as ever. The Beta, Gamma, two elders, and three senior warriors filled the rest of the seats. Blake stood by the wall with a folder. Zain was missing.
I sat down at the head of the table, rolled up my sleeves, and leaned back.
"Where’s Zain?"
"Correcting yesterday’s report," Blake said.
"Don’t let it happen again."
"Yes, sir."
I looked around the table. "Speak."
The Beta cleared his throat. "The Royal Crimson Pack wants a temporary alliance and permission for their heirs to enter our territory during the next full moon."
One elder nodded. "Their resources would help us. Refusing them completely might cause problems."
A warrior added, "They’re offering protection and trade. It doesn’t cost us much."
I let them talk for a few more seconds. Their voices blurred into pathetic murmurs, none of it worth hearing.
Then I said, quietly, "Enough."
The entire room fell silent.
"You’ve been spouting useless, empty words." I leaned forward. "The Blackthorns don’t offer alliances. They offer openings. And every opening is designed to take something. This one is about Maya."
Silence stretched across the table. No one moved. No one breathed.
Caleb finally spoke, his voice low. "He’s right. Ryan still holds the old grudge. Jaxon does whatever Ryan wants. If we let them in, they won’t stop at the banquet."
One of the elders frowned. "Even so, open refusal could create tension we can’t afford. The Crimson Pack is larger."
"Then let them be tense," I said. "I’m not putting one of ours on the table."
The Beta tried again. "Some of us think the risk is worth it. The alliance would strengthen the pack."
I looked at him until he stopped talking.
"The pack’s safety is not a negotiation."
Caleb’s voice cut in, firm. "Decision’s made. Delay the reply. Tighten security. No Crimson Pack member crosses our border without approval."
I gave a short nod. "Blake, handle the letter. Polite. Final."
"Yes, sir."
Chairs scraped against the floor. People filed out one by one. When the door finally shut, only Caleb and I were left.
He didn’t speak right away. He just watched me from across the table, his expression unreadable.
"You look like shit," he said finally.
I didn’t answer.
"Rough night?"
"Something like that."
Caleb studied me for a moment longer. Then he stood. "Be careful, Lucas. Whatever it is you’re not saying... it’s starting to show."
He walked out without waiting for a response.
****
In my office, I stood at the window and stared out at the dark tree line.
The Crimson Pack was moving. That part was clear. They wanted something, and they were no longer being subtle about it. I should have been focused on the political risk. On the borders. On the old blood between our families.
Instead, my mind kept returning to the same thing.
The heat of her mouth. The tremor in her thighs. The way she had begged me not to stop. The way she had looked at me like I was the only man in the world—even if she had thought I was someone else.
She had clung to me like I was her anchor and her undoing all at once.
I closed my eyes.
I could still feel the ghost of her. The way she had surrendered so completely, like she trusted me to catch her. Like she knew I would never let her fall—even as I pushed her back onto that bed.
That was what haunted me. Not the taste of her. Not the heat.
Her trust.
That sound.
The dream was still there. Still burning behind my lids. Still making my blood run hot and my hands itch to reach for something that wasn’t there.
And for a few stolen seconds, I had let myself believe that I was the only man in the world she would ever need.
That was the poison.
Not the taste of her.
The hope.
I had spent years keeping my distance. Years telling myself that watching her choose my brother was the safer option. The smarter option. The only option that didn’t destroy everything.
But the walls I had built were cracking.
And I was no longer sure I wanted to repair them.