Feral Heart

The sun was dipping low behind the jagged peaks, casting the mountains in a rich amber glow as Lena turned her car into the sweeping driveway of the Lupin Peaks Resort. The towering hotel loomed ahead, all gleaming stone and sleek glass, its design modern yet somehow timeless. The warm light spilling from its enormous windows made it look like a haven - a place of peace and relaxation.

For anyone who wasn’t Lena, that is.

“Silver tablecloths, Charles,” her mother was saying from the backseat, her voice slicing through Lena’s thinning patience. “Rachel wanted silver, not white. How hard is it to follow basic instructions?”

“Oh, please,” her dad retorted, his tone as tired as Lena felt. “Rachel wouldn’t know the difference between silver and white if her life depended on it.”

Lena gripped the steering wheel tighter. “If you two could table this tablecloth argument for one minute, I’d really appreciate it. Maybe let me park before I lose my mind?”

Her mother sniffed. Her father muttered something about ungrateful daughters. Lena pulled the car to a stop in front of the resort’s grand entrance, and before anyone could say another word, a valet in a crisp uniform appeared at her window.

“Welcome to Lupin Peaks,” the valet said with a professional smile.

Lena let out a sigh of relief. “Here you go,” she said, handing him the keys and hopping out of the car. The valet gave her a polite nod and slid into the driver’s seat, already maneuvering the car toward the parking garage as her parents bustled out, both carrying an air of barely contained irritation.

The lobby doors opened with a soft whoosh, and Lena stepped into what could only be described as luxury overload. A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, flanked by cozy seating arrangements and floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the mountain peaks like a painting. The chandeliers overhead twinkled like constellations, and the faint scent of pine and cedar wafted through the air.

“This is… a lot,” Lena murmured. She wasn’t sure if she meant the resort’s grandeur or her family’s relentless bickering, which had already resumed behind her.

“We should’ve arrived earlier,” her mom said, practically dragging her suitcase toward the reception desk. “Rachel’s probably been having a meltdown for hours, and we’re not even checked in yet.”

“Rachel’s been having meltdowns for months,” her dad quipped. “We’re not going to solve it by getting to our room five minutes sooner.”

“Maybe you’re not,” her mom shot back.

Lena tuned them out, her eyes wandering across the expansive lobby. Guests milled about, some chatting by the fireplace while others lined up at the long, polished reception desk. Despite the crowd, everything about the place exuded calm sophistication.

Until her gaze drifted to the far end of the lobby.

Near a sleek, private elevator, a man stepped out of the shadows.

He was tall - easily over six feet - with broad shoulders that filled out his tailored black suit like it had been custom-made for him (and it probably had). His dark, close-cropped hair and angular jawline gave him a striking, almost too-perfect look, like he’d stepped out of an expensive cologne ad. But it was his eyes that stopped her cold.

Golden. Bright, piercing gold that seemed to glow faintly even from across the room.

Lena’s breath hitched. For a moment, it felt like the world narrowed, the hum of the lobby fading into nothing. The man’s head turned, his gaze sweeping the room - and landing directly on her.

Her pulse jumped, a peculiar sensation tugging at her chest, like an invisible string tying her to him.

And then he moved.

It wasn’t much, just a step back into the shadows, but it was enough to break the spell. Lena blinked, and he was gone, the private elevator doors sliding shut as if he’d never been there.

“Lena!”

She startled, turning to find her mom glaring at her. “Are you even listening? They’re calling us to the desk.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, hurrying after them. But as she followed her parents to check in, she couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of those golden eyes, like they’d seen straight through her.

The door to Lena’s room clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against it with a groan.

It wasn’t even day one, and her family was already driving her insane. Between her mom’s frantic list-making, her dad’s dry sarcasm, and Rachel’s frantic phone calls about bridesmaids who apparently couldn’t follow simple instructions (whatever that meant), Lena was ready to lock herself in her room until the wedding was over.

But that wasn’t an option.

Instead, she kicked off her shoes, splashed some cold water on her face, and changed into a simple black dress that was just fancy enough to fit the resort’s vibe. A little mascara, a swipe of lip gloss, and she was ready. Not for family drama. Not for wedding chaos.

For a drink.

The hotel bar was tucked into a corner of the lobby, its low lighting and leather armchairs offering a welcome escape from the rest of the bustling resort. Lena slid onto a barstool, dropping her well-worn paperback onto the counter and ordering a gin and tonic.

For the first time all day, she exhaled.

Her drink arrived with a clink of ice, and she took a long sip, savoring the quiet. This was exactly what she needed: no parents, no Rachel, no talk of tablecloths or seating charts. Just her, her drink, and..

“Is this seat taken?”

The voice was deep, smooth, and rich as honey. Lena glanced up, and her heart stopped.

It was him.

The man from the lobby, the one with the golden eyes. Up close, he was even more devastatingly handsome, his chiseled features bathed in the soft glow of the bar’s lights. His presence was magnetic, and Lena had the sudden, irrational urge to check her pulse.

“No,” she said, her voice coming out softer than she intended. “It’s, uh, free.”

He didn’t sit. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

“Lena.”

She froze. “How do you know my..”

Before she could finish, his hands cupped her face, firm yet gentle, and a jolt of electricity shot through her at the contact.

“Mate,” he murmured, the word a low, reverent growl that sent shivers racing down her spine.

Her mouth opened - to argue, to question, to do something - but before she could, his lips were on hers.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It was fire and lightning and everything in between, a surge of heat that left her breathless. She felt it everywhere - sparks racing across her skin, a strange, intoxicating pull that made the world spin.

And then everything went dark …