Chapter 194 Unexpected Companion
Damian’s POV
Lorenzo stood stiffly, pride battered but survival instincts intact. "Consider it handled."
He turned toward the door, then paused. "You care a great deal about this Lucas Smith. He must be important."
"He’s connected to someone important," I said flatly. "That’s all you need to know."
Lorenzo nodded slowly, then left without another word.
The door clicked shut, and I finally let out the breath I’d been holding, my wolf settling back with a satisfied rumble.
Rick appeared a moment later, eyebrows raised. "I take it that went well?"
"He’ll make the call." I pulled out my phone.
Me: [It’s done. Lucas will be released within the hour.]
Her reply came almost immediately.
Aria: [Thank you. I owe you.]
I stared at it for a beat, then typed back.
Me: [You don’t owe me anything. This is what mates do.]
I set the phone down, my wolf rumbling contentedly in my chest.
Lorenzo would release Lucas. Nightshade would fall in line. And Aria would know—without question—that when she asked me for help, I delivered.
No hesitation. No conditions.
Just done.
---
Author’s POV
The phone on Victor’s desk buzzed at exactly 2:47 PM—the same moment Lucas Smith’s private jet touched down at JFK International Airport.
"Victor." Sylvia’s voice came through the line, smooth and composed. "I have good news. Lucas has been released. He’s on his way home."
Victor’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He braced one hand against his desk, closing his eyes as the tension drained from his shoulders. "Thank God. Sylvia, I—I don’t know how to thank you."
"Victor." Sylvia’s tone gentled, taking on that warm, reassuring quality she always used when she wanted him to feel like she was on his side.
"You don’t need to thank me. Lucas is family. Of course I was going to do everything in my power to bring him home safely."
Victor exhaled shakily, his hand tightening around the phone. "I owe you, Sylvia. Truly. I don’t know what I would have done if—"
"You don’t owe me anything," Sylvia said smoothly, her words carefully measured. "We’re family, Victor. That’s what family does for each other."
"You’re right," Victor said quietly, his voice thick with gratitude. "Family. Thank you, Sylvia. Really."
"Of course." There was a pause, then Sylvia added, "I’ll let you know when Lucas lands. I’m sure you’ll want to see him right away."
"I do. God, I really do."
They ended the call, and Victor sank into his chair, pressing his palms against his eyes as relief and gratitude washed over him in equal measure.
Sylvia had come through. When everyone else had failed, when his own contacts had hit dead ends, *she* had made it happen.
He didn’t stop to question how she’d managed it so quickly.
Didn’t pause to wonder why the Nightshade Pack—notoriously stubborn and territorial—had suddenly backed down without a fight.
All he knew was that his son was coming home.
And that was all that mattered.
---
Lucas Smith stepped off the plane at JFK with his jaw set and his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, looking every bit like a wolf who’d just survived enemy territory.
Victor was waiting for him at the private terminal, and the moment Lucas spotted his father, something in his chest tightened.
Victor crossed the space between them in three long strides and pulled Lucas into a crushing hug, his arms locking around his son like he was afraid to let go.
"Thank God," Victor muttered into Lucas’s shoulder, his voice rough with emotion. "Thank God you’re safe."
Lucas hugged him back stiffly, his wolf still on edge from the past forty-eight hours. The cell. The interrogation.
The cold, creeping certainty that the Nightshade Pack wasn’t going to let him walk away without a fight.
And then—nothing. The charges dropped. The door opened. A curt order to get on a plane and get the hell out of Italy.
No explanation. No apology. Just *gone*.
"I’m fine, Dad," Lucas said quietly, pulling back from the hug. "I’m okay."
---
They drove back to the Crescent Moon Pack house in silence, Victor too relieved to push for conversation and Lucas too busy thinking to offer any.
By the time they pulled into the driveway, Lucas had made his decision.
He waited until they were inside, until Victor had poured himself a drink and settled into the study, before he finally spoke.
"Dad, I need to talk to you about something."
Victor looked up from his whiskey, his expression still soft with lingering relief. "Of course. What’s on your mind?"
Lucas took a breath, squaring his shoulders. His wolf pushed forward, steadying him. "I’m going to marry Emily."
The warmth drained from Victor’s face. Slowly. Like watching ice form over water.
"Lucas—"
"I’m serious, Dad." Lucas’s voice was firm, no hesitation.
"I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but what happened in Italy made it clear. I’m not playing these alliance games anymore. I’m not letting Packs like the Nightshade dictate my life. Emily is who I want. She’s who I’m choosing."
Victor set his glass down carefully, his jaw tightening. "Emily is just an adopted daughter of the Riverside Pack, Lucas. She has no bloodline. No status."
"I know."
"She brings nothing to our Pack." Victor’s voice was rising now, frustration bleeding through. "You’re my son. My *heir*. You have responsibilities to this Pack, to this family—"
"And I’ll fulfill them," Lucas said evenly. "But I’m doing it *my* way. With Emily."
Victor stood, his Alpha aura flaring—instinctive, territorial, trying to assert dominance over his son the way he had when Lucas was young.
But Lucas didn’t flinch. His own wolf rose to meet it, steady and unyielding.
"You think this is about love?" Victor’s voice dropped, cold now. "You think choosing an orphan over a strategic alliance makes you noble? If you don’t change your mind, I’ll strip you of your position as heir."
"I don’t care." Lucas’s voice was quiet, but there was steel beneath it. "I’m not trading my life for political leverage. Not anymore."
Victor’s jaw worked, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His wolf was snarling inside him, furious at the challenge, furious at the rejection of Pack law and tradition.
"If you do this—if you marry that orphan—you’re on your own. No more family support. No more protection from the Crescent Moon Pack. You’ll be vulnerable, and every Pack that wanted an alliance with you will see it as an insult."
Lucas held his father’s gaze for a long moment, then nodded once. "I know."
He turned and walked out of the study without another word, leaving Victor standing alone in the fading light, his whiskey untouched and his wolf snarling with frustration.
Because his son—his *heir*—had just chosen love over power.
And Victor didn’t know whether to admire him or disown him.