Lucian's POV
I leaned into the cracked mirror, dragging a comb through my hair. I smoothed the gel down, forcing the strands into a tight slick-back. It had to be perfect.
"What in the hell are you doing?"
Ragnar's voice echoed in the small room as he kicked the door shut. He stared at me, his eyes traveling from the gel bottle to my head. "Why is your hair like that?"
"None of your business," I muttered, my fingers working to keep every hair in place.
Ragnar crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you going somewhere important?"
A smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. I didn't look away from my reflection. "To see my mate."
"To see your what!" Ragnar's jaw dropped.
I finally turned to face him. "I know it sounds crazy. It's early, I get it. But the woman I saved the other day? She's the one." The smirk stayed on my lips, but my heart hammered against my ribs. "I've never felt a pull like this. I'm drawn to her in a way I can't explain."
