Chapter 1 The Night That Changed Everything

Nyx's POV

I've never been good with crowds, especially not the kind that drinks champagne like it's water and wears confidence like a second skin.

My dress is beautiful....midnight blue, silky, and backless......but I still feel like I'm wrapped in someone else's life. The fabric clings to me in ways that make me self-conscious and the slit up my leg is much higher than I'd like.

Around me, men in sharp tuxedos and women in glittering gowns laugh over flutes of golden liquid. Waiters pass by with silver trays, their arms stiff, their faces unreadable. I catch bits of conversation-stocks, mergers, politics-none of it feels real to me.

I don't belong here.

But I had no choice. My job as an intern meant I had to show up tonight. Blackwood Industries doesn't just run half the city-they practically own it. Missing this gala would have been career suicide.

Still, I wish I could disappear.

I clutch my glass of whatever-the-hell-it-is closer and search for an escape. My eyes land on a pair of tall glass doors at the far end of the room. A balcony. Fresh air. Away from the buzz of money and egos.

Without thinking twice, I walk toward it, slipping past the clumps of conversation and laughter.

The doors open easily under my touch, and I step outside.

The night air is cool, brushing against my skin like silk. The city stretches below, lights blinking in the dark, almost as if they're winking at me. I rest my hands on the railing and breathe in deeply. The silence is a relief.

"Running from something?"

The voice is low. Smooth, but sharp. Like glass coated in honey.

I turn.

He's standing a few feet away, leaning against the edge of the balcony like he owns it. Like he owns the night. His suit is dark and perfectly tailored, but it's not the fabric that holds my attention.

It's him.

The man is tall, broad-shouldered, with jet-black hair swept back in a way that looks both effortless and dangerous. His eyes-icy gray, unreadable-pin me in place.

Cold. Distant. Intimidating.

Zane Blackwood.

I recognize him immediately, even though I've only ever seen him in headlines or office portraits. The Alpha CEO. The one everyone talks about with awe and fear.

I swallow, suddenly aware of the way my dress hugs my body. "I'm not running. Just... needed air."

His gaze sweeps over me, not in a way that feels polite. It's intense. Like he's studying every detail, every flaw.

"You don't look like the others inside."

I don't know if it's a compliment or an insult. "Maybe because I'm not." His lips twitch slightly. Not a smile, but something close. "Honest."

"I try," I say, voice quieter now.

He steps closer. The air seems to shift around him, heavier somehow. I feel it in my chest, in my bones. A strange, buzzing awareness that makes the hairs on my arms rise.

I should step back.

I don't.

"You're an intern," he says, not as a question.

I blink. "How do you-"

"I know everyone who steps into my company. Especially the ones who don't belong."

The words sting, but his voice isn't cruel. Just matter-of-fact. Still, it twists something in my chest.

"I didn't ask to be here," I murmur, turning away to look at the city again. "This place isn't for people like me."

There's silence for a moment. Then, quietly, he says, "Neither is it for people like me."

I look back at him, surprised. For a second, there's something in his eyes. Something almost... lonely.

But it vanishes quickly. A mask drops. He's cold again.

The wind picks up slightly, brushing my hair back. He steps even closer. Our arms almost touch. His presence is overwhelming.

My heart thuds harder, louder. Something inside me shifts-an unfamiliar pull that tugs deep in my gut.I don't understand it, but I can't look away from him.

"Why are you out here, really?" he asks.

I shrug, unsure how much to say. "I guess I got tired of pretending."

He tilts his head, watching me closely. "That makes two of us."

There's another beat of silence, stretched and heavy. The tension between us hums like electricity. My fingers tighten on the railing.

Then-without warning-he lifts his hand and brushes a strand of hair from my face.

His touch is gentle, yet it sends a shiver racing down my spine. "You should go back inside," he murmurs, voices low and strained.

But he doesn't move. He doesn't let go.

And his eyes-those cold, piercing eyes-betray the words that just left his lips.

I stare up at him, my heart thudding in my chest. "Maybe I don't want to." Something flickers across his face. A crack in the armor. A glimpse of something raw.

Then-he moves.

One second, there's space between us. The next, he's there-his mouth on mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. It's not soft.

Not careful. It's hungry, commanding. Like he's been holding back for far too long and finally gave in to the storm brewing inside him.

I gasp against his lips, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss until the world spins.

I don't remember walking, only the way his hands found my waist, my back, my hips-possessive, burning.

Somewhere between the shadows of the balcony and the cool marble hallway, we end up in one of the guest rooms upstairs. The door closes with a quiet click, but it might as well be thunder.

We don't speak. Words aren't needed.

His jacket falls to the floor. My heels slip off. My dress pools at my feet like liquid silk.

His touch scorches everywhere it lands. My skin tingles, hypersensitive, alive. I should have felt afraid-this man is cold, intimidating, the Alpha CEO whose presence alone bends entire rooms-but at this moment, none of that matters.

Right now, I don't see the ruthless businessman.

I see the man whose lips tremble slightly when they brush my collarbone.

The one whose breathing stutters when our bodies finally meet like they were always meant to.

It's more than lust. More than needed.

It's like fate is pulling invisible strings between us, weaving something ancient and powerful in the spaces our hands and mouths explore.

We fall into the bed tangled in heat and urgency. Every breath, every touch, feels like it carries meaning. Like it's bigger than us.

His name leaves my lips in a gasp.

Mine breaks from his in a growl that vibrates through my bones. And when it happens...when we cross that line...The world changes.

Suddenly, the air thickens, charged with something unspoken. My chest tightens. My heartbeat syncs with his. And deep in my soul, something clicks into place.

It's like a tether snapping taut.

A sharp, invisible thread pulling me toward him-not just in body, but in spirit.

Mate.

The word doesn't come from my mind. It rises from somewhere deeper. Older. As if the stars themselves whispered it into my blood.

I open my eyes and meet his.

His pupils are wide. His body is still. His lips parted like he'd just realized something irreversible.

"You felt that," I breathe.

His gaze darkens, voice husky. "I didn't... expect this."

Neither did I.

And yet, here we are-wrapped in the aftermath of something more than just a night.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It was meant to be one moment, a mistake, a spark that died before it could ignite.

But fate doesn't care about intentions.

It only answers to bonds.

And ours was just sealed.

We lie in silence, tangled in warmth and uncertainty, the bond humming beneath our skin like a song only we can hear.

It's terrifying.

It's undeniable.

And I know with bone-deep certainty...

Nothing will ever be the same again.