Edward sensed her before he saw her.
His wolf went still, alert and focused in a way it hasn't been in years.
She was standing near the bar, fingers wrapped around a glass she hasn't tasted yet. She wasn't dressed to impress. No calculated beauty and no practiced smile.
When her eyes met his, something passed between them, recognition without context and familiarity without memory.
His pulse suddenly spiked sharply. This was dangerous and he knew he should leave. Instead, he moved closer towards her.
"Can I?" He asked , gesturing to the empty space beside her.
She studied him for a long moment, as if weighing something unseen.
"Sure."
They didn't exchange names. It felt deliberate, even as neither of them said it aloud.
He gestured to the bartender. "Another?"
She nodded.
When the drinks arrived, he lifted his glass but didn't toast. Instead, he studied her gaze before sipping "You look like you're waiting for someone,"
She glanced toward the dance floor to Bella who was laughing now, spun beneath the lights.
"I was," she admitted . "But apparently, I've been abandoned."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Temporary abandonment."
"You sound confident."
"I'm hopeful," he corrected.
They drank in silence for a moment. "You don't come here often,"
"No," she said. "First time."
He nodded , as if that confirmed something for him. "That makes sense."
"For who?"
"For people who don't belong here," he said before adding quietly, "yet."
When her hand mistakenly brushed his, it was like a spark under his skin. His wolf surged.
He exhaled slowly and grounded himself "We should…"
"Not yet," she said, quiet but firm and he didn't argue.
"What's your name?" she asks.
He hesitated.
Just long enough to matter.
"Daniel,"
She knew that with a sudden irrational certainty that it's not his name. But she let it go.
"I'm…" She stopped herself, the same instinct flaring. "I don't think names are necessary."
"No," he agreed. "They complicate things."
His voice was calm, controlled and close enough that she felt the warmth of him without him touching her.
He was taller than she expected, dark hair slightly undone, expression composed in a way that suggested effort rather than ease.
There was nothing flashy about him, no loud confidence. Just a presence that made the air feel heavier and fuller like the room adjusted itself around him.
There was something about him that made her feel unguarded and seen but not reckless.
He didn't dominate the space the way most men usually did. He restrained himself, like he was holding back something vast and dangerous.
The more they talked, the quieter the ache inside her became. They didn't talk about why they're there. They didn't talk about tomorrow.
Bella reappeared at the edge of her vision, flushed and smiling, mouthing I'll call you! before disappearing toward the exit with a dramatic wave.
She sighed. "Guess it's official. I've been ditched."
He set his glass down. "Then let me make it up to you."
She raised an eyebrow. "How?"
"Come with me," he said simply. "Or don't. Either way, I won't pretend I didn't want to ask. But I know a place we can take this to."
"One drink, Then we'll see." She bit her lower lips and laughed.
His smile this time is slow, "That's all I'd ask for."
She took a few more glasses, she didn't remember when she decided to leave, only the feel of the night air on her skin as they stepped outside.
"This doesn't happen to you often," she said. It sounded more like a statement than a question.
"No," he replied with a voice low. "That's why it's happening now." He stopped a taxi and they enter. He inputted a location and the driver sped.
When they reached the building, he paused, with his hand hovering at her back without touching her.
"If you tell me to stop," He said, "I will."
She looked up at him, her heart pounded and her instinct screamed yes even as logic felt silent.
He left her at the lobby and went to the reception. A few minutes later, he returned with a key card and took her by the hand.
As they approached the room, he carried her in his arms like a new bride. Once they were inside the room, he dropped her on the bed and turned on the side lamp.
The moment the door closed behind them, the restraint he had been holding fractured into urgency. His hand found her waist, firm and grounding, like he was anchoring himself as much as she was.
For a split second, something flashed across his face, confusion and intensity, then it was gone.
He kissed her like he had been waiting far longer than tonight allowed. He tore through her clothes and then her underwear.
His hand slid down, under her, finding her wet. He groaned, a sound that made her wetter. He kissed her quietly . "You're so wet," he whispered.
He inserted himself into her and they moved at the same pace, body, sweat and souls intertwined at that moment. Their moaning filled the room.
Much later, as sleep pulled her under, she thought she heard him whisper something against her hair.
A word that sounded like a name. A word she didn't remember.
She fell asleep knowing she'll remember this night forever.
He left her before dawn. Staying would mean questions, names and consequences he wasn't ready for. He quietly dressed up in the dark.
By the time he stepped back onto the street, the weight returned. The crown, the duty and the life he chose.
He checked his phone and there are countless missed calls and messages, amongst which are his mom's, Iris' and her father.
He simply sent her a message: on my way back. In less than no time he was at his engagement party, half drunk with no guilt of what had just happened.
**************
Her hair was tangled, and the sheets clung to her skin where he had lain.
She sat on the edge of the bed, knees pulled close, staring at the floor as if it might offer answers.
She tried to recall his face fully, his jawline, the shape of his hands, the tone of his voice, but the memory was. hazy and fragmented.
He left no note, nothing.
She exhaled slowly, wishing she could tell herself it was just a fleeting moment. A mistake.
But even the faintest echo of him, the brush of his hand, the warmth of his presence, felt too significant to ignore.
She moved quietly to the window and looked down at the city streets. The neon reflections rippled across her eyes, and for a moment, she felt exposed.
She wondered if he'll remember her. If he even thinks about her at all or what happened the previous night.
She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, but it didn't help. She felt cheap and low. She just had a one night stand with a man she doesn't know or seemed to remember.
The hotel landline rang.
"Hi. Good morning, trust that you slept well. Would you like to renew your stay or check out?" The person on the other end asked.
"I'm checking out right now." She replied and hung up.
She gathered the remains of what was left of her clothes and put them on before heading out.
"I really feel off." She cried as Bella entered her house. "Not sick or anxious, just….. something I can't name."
"Maybe it's the club," Bella teased. "Or maybe you just finally had fun."
She smiled weakly. "Maybe." "He didn't even say goodbye."
"Girl…. get over it, it was a damn one night stand." She mocked "I on the other hand didn't end up in bed with my date. At least I know his name and I have his contact." She laughed.
"It's all your fault, if only you didn't ditch me for some stranger, I would not be here now."
" Em you wanted that and you enjoyed it as much as he did. Seriously, get over it already." She said moving to the kitchen.
"But what kind of a man leaves a lady in that state at a hotel? He's a jerk and I pray never to see him again."