Navy-Blue Eyes

## Luc POV

I was just cruising through the city on my beloved speed machine—a black, roaring Ducati Panigale. Unfortunately, I couldn’t pick up enough speed on these crowded streets to cut myself off from the world for even a moment and quiet the thoughts racing through my head.

“Damn Council…” I growled silently to my wolf, Ivo, feeling pure frustration welling up inside me. “Once again, they’re brazenly meddling in how I lead the Moonbeam pack. They’re crossing the line,” I growled in my mind.

“At least Councilman Arthur is on our side; he still has some of his old common sense left,” Ivo said in my head, trying to comfort me a little. His deep voice usually had a calming effect on me, but not today.

“So what? It’s still just one vote against those two,” I replied bitterly.

“Cecilia might still be persuaded—she’s an elegant woman who knows how to listen to arguments. But Bart? That old, stubborn fool is always against everything, just because he gets a kick out of blocking my decisions,” Ivo snorted mentally, sharing my resentment.

Suddenly, red lights flashed before my eyes. Seriously? How many more of these damn intersections do I have to go through before I finally break free from this traffic and am truly free?

I stopped the bike, and my gaze involuntarily wandered ahead. Two vehicles away, on a small, sleek motorcycle—a typical 250cc bike perfect for weaving through city traffic—sat a petite figure. From her perfectly sculpted silhouette, narrow waist, and shapely hips, I immediately recognized her as a woman.

The first thing that literally caught my attention was the incredible, mesmerizing movement of her legs. Instead of standing still, like most motorcyclists who put down only one foot and keep the other on the footrest, she placed both feet on the asphalt and… danced. She lifted her feet up and down—toes, heels—then traced subtle circles with them, as if moving to the rhythm of some wild music hidden inside her head. After a moment, she began moving her feet apart and bringing them back together, recreating the perfect steps of classic rock ’n’ roll. It was incredibly intriguing. She exuded such a rare, natural ease that I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

The lights finally turned green, and we set off. She wasn’t speeding like crazy; she rode calmly, following all the rules to the letter, taking pure joy in the ride itself. At the next intersection, luck was on my side—we stopped again, but this time I pulled up on my Ducati right behind her.

The girl didn’t lose her good humor for a second. She repeated the same dance-like rhythm with her feet again, and at one point even swayed her hips slightly—and incredibly seductively—on the leather seat. Seizing the opportunity, I took a closer look at her.

She was wearing a form-fitting black leather motorcycle jacket and perfectly fitted jeans that accentuated her shapely, long legs. Her head was protected by a full-face helmet, on which someone—probably she herself—had drawn cute little daisy heads with white correction fluid. It wasn’t until a moment later that my gaze drifted lower, and I noticed something that made the corners of my mouth turn up: on her feet, she was wearing plain sneakers with bright, colorful laces. It was total madness and a complete lack of responsibility when it came to motorcycle safety, but on the other hand, given her riding speed, it didn’t seem dangerous—it just looked adorable.

Her attitude was completely different from that of most people I’d encountered on the roads. For many guys and stuck-up chicks, a motorcycle is just a tool for showing off, a display that says, “Look at my fancy ride.” For her, this bike was something more—it was an extension of herself, a comfort zone where she felt carefree.

“Her joy is downright contagious,” I muttered under my breath, catching myself with a genuine smile on my face. In a single second, the whole damn Council, Bart, and the politics of the pack simply vanished from my mind. Only one thing mattered: I had to find out what the hell she was listening to.

The traffic lights changed again. My route went straight, but she suddenly signaled and turned into a side street. Without a moment’s hesitation, I turned the wheel and followed her.

“Alpha?” I heard the questioning voice of one of the two warriors riding their bikes a short distance behind me in my head.

“Keep going straight home. I just need to check something; I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” I said briefly over the link, in a tone that brooked no argument.

At the next, smaller intersection, we were completely alone. I seized the moment, pulled up smoothly right next to her, and gently, almost imperceptibly, tapped her on the shoulder so as not to startle her. When she turned her head toward me, I lifted the tinted visor of my helmet. I pointed to my ear and asked loudly, shouting over the rumble of our engines:

“What are you listening to?!”

The girl immediately understood my gesture. I couldn’t see her face through her helmet, but I could sense she was smiling. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned the screen toward me, showing me her playlist. My eyes quickly scanned the titles—it was an incredible mix. Energetic old tracks from the ’80s dominated, but they were interspersed with modern, dynamic hits. I recognized a few of the current songs she must have been bopping along to just a moment ago.

The light turned green.

“Thanks!” I said with a smile lifting my visor.

She responded with an energetic, cheerful nod, and then we stepped on the gas and drove off in completely different directions.

On the way back to the pack’s territory, once I could finally reach my coveted 250 km/h on the safe forest roads, I played the same songs on the intercom that I’d spotted on her phone. The music pulsed in my ears, and I could still see her dancing feet before my eyes. It’s amazing, but that brief moment completely wiped away my bad mood.

## Anikki POV

“If you’re calling me just to tell me for the hundredth time about those incredible navy-blue eyes that supposedly pierced your artistic soul at the intersection, I swear I’m hanging up,” I heard my friend Kate’s stern—though clearly amused—voice say over the phone.

“No, I promise! I’m calling about something completely different!” I assured her quickly, though I felt my cheeks flush slightly.

“Yeah, right. By the way… have you found the right setting for them yet?” she pressed on, even though she’d just threatened to hang up. I knew her too well to fall for that feigned indifference.

“Uh-huh…” I just mumbled under my breath.

“I don’t believe it! Which character in your new game is going to get that look?” Kate knew me inside and out. We’d met in college, spent years sharing a dorm room, and our friendship had lasted uninterrupted for a decade. She was a brilliant interior designer; I lived in the world of code, writing and designing video games. She knew exactly how my brain worked: if a color, shape, building, or even a person’s lips captivated me in the real world, I could obsess over it until I’d woven that detail into my latest digital project.

And that motorcyclist… Well, his eyes—deep and dark as the night sky—simply captivated me.

“No character,” I admitted after a moment’s hesitation, drumming my fingers on the desk. “They didn’t match any of the people in the game. But… I made an amazing screensaver out of them… And a desktop background, too.”

“Wow! You’ve got it bad, girl! That’s something completely new,” she said, her voice full of genuine surprise. I was surprised by my own reaction. I usually left my inspirations in the virtual world, but those eyes needed something more. “So what now? Are those two blinders staring at you cheekily every time you turn on your computer?”

“Actually… I gave them a whole body.”

“Whoa! I hope it’s damn hot and worth the sin?”

“Not exactly… I put those eyes on an animal’s body.”

“Ugh, lame. What is it? Some cute cat?”

“A wolf,” I cut in, feeling a strange shiver down my spine.

“A wolf?”

“Yeah, it just seemed to fit perfectly. I tried matching them to different models, but it wasn’t until I put them on a powerful, black wolf that they gained that incredible, mesmerizing depth.”

“Anikki, you’re definitely working way too much and you need a real, flesh-and-blood guy!” Kate laughed. “But okay, let’s get to the point. You were going to tell me something before you drifted off again toward your mysterious stranger from the road.”

I wasn’t going to correct her—she was the one who brought up the subject of eyes in the first place. I needed a favor from her, and with Kate, you had to tread lightly at times like this.

“Tell me… are you still in touch with that friend of yours who runs that popular bar downtown?”

“You mean Sylwia? Yeah, sure. What about her?”

“I’m writing a new game right now that’s based on a waiter’s dexterity and the mechanics of serving drinks quickly. I need some real-life practice to capture the realism, feel the stress, the dynamics of movement, the interaction with customers… I’d like to work at her place for a while.”

“But you’re leaving in two weeks for a well-deserved vacation!” Her all-too-familiar “motherly” tone immediately came through the phone. Kate firmly believed that if it weren’t for her interventions, I’d turn into a robot programming games twenty-four hours a day. As a fanatic of healthy living, sports, and fitness, she mercilessly dragged me out of the house at least three times a week for joint workouts, aerobics, or swimming, looking out for my figure and mental health.

“That’s exactly why I want to do this now!” I’ll work out for a few days, and when I get back from vacation, with a clear head, I’ll sit down to code. You know I don’t take my laptop on trips. Think of it this way: instead of sitting in silence in front of a monitor in the evenings, I’ll be around people, on the move, away from the screen. It’s the perfect compromise!

My reasoning finally got through to her. I heard a heavy sigh.

“All right, that sounds logical. But you know that in nature, nothing comes for free, right?”

“Oh, come on… What do you want now?” I moaned dramatically.

“You’re going to the mountains; you’ll be hiking on trails in sweatpants all day, so you won’t need any fancy dresses during that time…”

“Oh no! Forget it!” I cut her off immediately. “Whenever you borrow my clothes, they disappear into a black hole and never come back!”

“Oh, come on, you’re exaggerating. That’s only happened twice!”

“Because the third time, I had to break into your closet myself and take them out of there! And now, once I’m gone, you’ll raid my closet and I won’t even know what you’ve stolen from me!”

“See? You have so many beautiful things that you won’t even notice a few missing. Come on, Anikki… I guess you really want me to call Sylwia and get you that bar?”

“You’re an absolute monster and a manipulator!”I gave in with resignation, though a smile played on my lips. “Fine, deal. But keep your hands off that new navy blue dress and the little black dress. Got it?”

“Of course, I give you my word!” I heard a joyful clap of hands through the phone. “Give me an hour; I’ll call Sylwia and let you know when you can start your bartending adventure.”