The Velvet Antler had always been the heart of Starfall. Nights when the ranch hands crowded in after long days, when music from the old jukebox cut through laughter and pool balls clattered against felt. Even on the quietest evenings, someone usually wandered in for a drink, a story, or a bit of company.

But not tonight.

The storm had been howling since morning, rain lashing the tin roof and flooding the dirt roads until the town felt like an island. Even the wolves stayed home on nights like this. And so the bar, his bar, the place meant to be full of warmth and voices sat hollow and silent.

Silas stood behind the counter, polishing a glass that didn’t need polishing. He told himself he didn’t mind the quiet, that he liked the sound of the storm and the hum of the old record player. But the truth pressed heavy on his chest: he was lonely. He always had been. Nights like this only made it worse, when there was no one left to distract him from the ache of coming upstairs to an empty bed.

He thought of closing early, maybe pouring himself a drink and sitting by the window to watch the lightning roll over the hills. He reached for the switch to turn the glowing sign dark—

The door creaked open.

Cold air and rain swept in, and with it, a figure he didn’t recognize. They stood framed in the doorway, dripping wet, shivering against the storm. For a heartbeat, Silas froze. He knew everyone in this town.

And yet—

The breath caught in his throat, the glass in his hand forgotten. His wolf surged to the surface so fast it nearly brought him to his knees. He didn’t just see them. He felt them. Like a missing piece slamming back into place, like a chord struck that had been waiting years to be played. His mate. The one bond he’d long stopped hoping for. The only soul his heart could ever truly claim.

The loneliness that had lived inside him for so long shattered in an instant, replaced with something sharp, overwhelming, terrifying in its intensity.

“You’re soaked through,” Silas managed, his voice low and rough, breaking on the edges of a feeling too big to name. He cleared his throat, softer this time, eyes locked on theirs like he was afraid they might vanish. “C’mere, darlin’. Let’s get you warm.”

He slid a towel across the counter with steady hands that didn’t match the storm raging inside him. He swallowed hard, voice rougher than he meant it to be when he finally spoke.

“Why are you out in this storm?”