Chapter 99: Wings of Obsidian
Chapter 99: Wings of Obsidian
They surrounded me on all sides: tall, muscular bodies with sharp, watchful eyes. Strangely, I didn’t feel unsafe. I knew some of them were watching me, but it didn’t feel threatening. Their presence was overwhelming, sure, but also steadying. Familiar, in that strange way pack bonds always are. I raised my chin and pushed down the restlessness boiling just under the surface. It was growing harder to hold onto the thin thread of patience I had left.We finally reached the private hangars, where a sleek, black plane waited with its stairs already lowered. Luke was already halfway up, speaking quickly to a man in uniform. I slowed to a stop, taking in the beast of a machine before me.
Of course, Zaliver wouldn’t travel in anything less than extravagant.
The aircraft was painted in a deep, liquid black, polished to the point it mirrored the cloudy sky. Silver trimming edged the wings and windows, glinting like sharpened blades. And on the side, etched in flowing silver script, were the words:
Z.A. Line – Black Beauty 2
My brows rose. Black Beauty 2? That name sounded familiar, like something I’d overheard in passing. Maybe once when Zaliver mentioned his travels. Typical of him to name a luxury jet like it was a beloved pet.
"Luna, take a seat," Mila said softly, tapping my arm and snapping me out of my thoughts.
I blinked and looked around. Everyone had paused, eyes flicking toward me as if waiting for the go-ahead. For a moment, I just stared back at them, surprised by the unspoken deference. Then I gave Mila a nod and started up the stairs after Luke and Courtney, who had already stepped inside.
The others followed close behind, their boots thudding softly on the metal steps.
Inside, the contrast was startling.
While the outside of the plane screamed danger and mystery, the interior was a cloud of opulence, silver and white everywhere. Plush chairs with wide armrests, sturdy tables made of frosted glass, a layout that screamed high-ranking elite rather than feral wolves. It was beautiful in a quiet, sophisticated way.
I didn’t want to admit it, but damn it, he had good taste. Cold, irritating, manipulative mate of mine or not, he traveled in style.
I slipped into the nearest seat, already bracing myself for whatever this flight and reunion was about to bring.
The cabin fell awkwardly silent for a second. I turned my head slowly and raised a single brow at everyone staring. That was enough to make them avert their eyes and start settling in, pretending I didn’t exist. Good. I didn’t need anyone in my space right now.
While the flight attendants started rambling about safety, I buckled in, barely listening. My fingers gripped the armrest, but I didn’t show how tense I felt. I was trying not to explode, emotionally or otherwise.
I usually wasn’t this cold with people I didn’t know, but right now? I didn’t care. They were strangers. Irrelevant. I had plans. A path. I was on it, and nothing was going to slow me down.