3

Every year, on the inevitable occasion when Alpha Xenon found himself compelled to depart from the sanctuary of the castle, his return marked a transformation into a foul-tempered beast. The outside world held scant allure for him, and participating in its affairs felt like an onerous burden, one that bore down heavily on his shoulders. The respite from this ordeal only came when he could finally soar above the landscapes in his helicopter, abandoning the cities that begrudgingly demanded his presence. As he ascended into the skies, leaving civilization in his wake, the helicopter navigated over the renowned alpine forests that adorned the mountainous ridges. The very same ridges that had become synonymous with the castle he had, for the past six years, called home. With every passing moment in the air, the distance between him and the outside world increased, and the anticipation of returning to the castle intensified. The journey back was not just a physical return but a retreat into the solace and familiarity of the castle, where the oppressive weight of the world outside could be left behind, and the tranquility of his haven could once again envelop him.

It rose from the cliff faces like a specter of magic. On cloudy afternoons, the turrets of the towers appeared almost to hover, free-floating miles above the ravines that fell all the way to northern Italy, and, despite the romantic beauty of the centuries-old towers, Alpha Xenon felt an affinity with the ruggedness of their positioning.

They too did not belong.

And so here they stayed, two outcasts on the edges of civilization. It was almost impossible to remember now the parties his parents used to throw here, the way the castle used to hum with life and joy.

As Alpha Xenon brought his helicopter lower, circling around the castle to the landing pad at the rear, he saw something that made him swallow a dark curse.

A car.

Small and black, parked right near the front door to the castile.

Alpha Xenon found immense satisfaction in the castle's remoteness, relishing the narrow and winding road leading to it. The road, though existing, deterred casual tourists, ensuring that the natural conclusion of their journey remained the castle, preventing any further traffic intrusion. In this secluded haven, he reveled in the solitude, relishing the complete absence of others, a circumstance that suited his preferences perfectly. The day had commenced with him waking up in a foul mood, a common occurrence whenever the necessity of travel loomed. As the hours progressed, his mood only soured further, exacerbated by an insatiable desire to return home. All he yearned for was the solace of his dwelling, a place where he could cleanse himself in the sanctuary of a shower, liberating his mind from the lingering memories of people, his tumultuous past, the weight of history, and the burden of guilt that shadowed him relentlessly.

He cut the rotor blades but stayed in the helicopter as they slowed, trying to bring his temper under control. He expelled a long, slow breath, his nostrils flaring, then pushed open the side door. It was crisp up here, despite the fact that spring was reaching through the rest of the northern hemisphere, bringing flowers, sunshine and optimism. At the top of the world, the clouds were gray, the trees heavy with fallen snow. He stepped out of the helicopter, slamming the door and stalking towards the steps that would lead to the back door of his palace.

He didn’t know who’d dared to breach his sanctuary, but he would tell them to leave, in no uncertain terms. Alpha Xenon Lucas was not in the mood for being nice.

***

Ella's anxiety surpassed mere nervousness; it was an overwhelming sensation that enveloped her entirely. Her unease stemmed not only from the audacious act of arriving uninvited at the castle of a notoriously reclusive billionaire, a proposal clutched tightly in hand, but also from the profound implications this proposal held for her future. The prospect of becoming the events coordinator for his sister's wedding carried a weight that extended beyond the ordinary. Should he choose to accept her proposition, it had the power to fundamentally transform Ella's life. The financial remuneration alone promised a substantial windfall, enough to secure a significant bank loan. This, in turn, would enable her to liberate herself from the clutches of her detestable stepmother, finally reclaiming control of her late father's business.

Yet, the significance of this opportunity transcended monetary gain. It was a chance for Ella to prove her mettle, not only to herself but also to those who had doubted her capabilities. Securing this pivotal role was not just a career advancement; it was a personal triumph, a validation of her skills and potential. As she approached the daunting task of convincing the elusive billionaire that she was the perfect fit for the job, Ella recognized that success in this endeavor would mark a turning point in her life, one where she could assert her competence and defy the skepticism that had long shadowed her aspirations.

There wasn’t a lot of information about Alpha Xenon on the Internet. Up to a point, there were tons of photographs: a young, handsome party-boy bachelor who seemed to go from one event to another—she was familiar with the type. But when tragedy struck and his parents were killed in a house fire, he disappeared from the public eye. For the last six years, he’d almost faded from existence, so it took some sniffing around for Ella to secure the address of his hideaway here in the Alps, on the border of his Pack.

His younger sister, Anna, was easier to research. While she kept a low profile, she’d recently become engaged to Eric the fourth son of the reigning Alpha of the Royal Lunar Pack, and so there’d been a spate of interviews. Lucinda had spent weeks analyzing them, studying them, learning what she could about the soon-to-be Princess and weaving those titbits into her proposal. Sheknewit was good. Great, in fact. She just had to convince Alpha Xenon Lucas of that.

If he ever turned up!

Having arrived at the castle some hours earlier, she’d waited in her car a while, before moving into the foyer of the house and then, finally, going a little deeper, when the tea she’d had on the drive up had caught up with her and she’d needed to relieve herself. Only the search for amenities had taken her past the most stunning library, with triple-height ceilings and walls lined with ancient books. Was there really any harm in waiting for him there? She had decided not, and so it was here, in the library, curled up in an armchair with a very old copy ofWar and Peace In her hands, that Alpha Xenon discovered her.

Ella wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. His good looks were well established. She’d seen photographs of him online, taken years earlier, with his swarthy complexion, eyes darker than night, brows thick and straight, nose aquiline, jaw square—but the man who strode into the library looking as though he wanted to strangle something or someone was very, very different. Oh, his face showed the relics of that handsome young man, but his expression was so angry, so serious, that it was impossible to reconcile him with the smiling, carefree bachelor. And he was such a man—all six and a half feet of steel and strength; there was a darkness to his energy that was overpowering. Lucinda scrambled to her feet, thrusting the book guiltily onto the armchair, all professionalism forgotten in the face of Alpha Xenon’s overt masculinity.

‘Who the hell are you?’ His accent was crisper than the temperature outside. His voice was rough, thick and hoarse, as though he didn’t use it often. As though he was angry to be using it now.

Lucinda swallowed past a bundle of nerves.

‘Alpha Xenon Skartos?’

‘You are in my house,’ he said succinctly. ‘Do you think you have any right to ask me questions?’

She had not expected this degree of animosity. ‘I have been trying to contact you via phone,’ she responded haughtily, forgetting for a moment how badly she needed his business. ‘You haven’t returned my calls.’

‘Most people would take that as a hint.’

‘I’m not most people.’

His nostrils flared as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her wordlessly, so Lucinda’s pulse ratcheted up without warning, without explanation. She bit down on her lower lip, then quickly stopped, when his very dark eyes dropped to the gesture, slowly appraising it, and then, her face.

‘You are not welcome here.’

‘I just need a moment of your time.’

Skepticism tightened his face. ‘Do you not understand English?’

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