“Thanks.” He hesitated for a moment, then leaned down to press a brief, warm kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”
And then he was gone, leaving the apartment feeling far emptier than it should have. Cora stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, before finally letting out a shaky breath. She sank onto the couch, burying her face in her hands as the weight of everything crashed over her.
The hours stretched endlessly as Cora tried to occupy herself. She cleaned the kitchen, reorganized the bookshelf, and even tried working on a new potion, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Grayson. She couldn’t shake the image of him walking into danger and couldn’t stop imagining all the things that could go wrong.
And then there was the pregnancy.
She rested her hands on her abdomen with her fingers splayed across the flat plane of her stomach. It didn’t feel real—not yet—but she couldn’t deny the truth. There was a life growing inside her, a tiny spark that was equal parts her and Grayson. The realization filled her with equal parts awe and terror.
She had spent so much time trying to break the bond and reclaim the freedom she felt had been stolen from her. But now, with this new life tying her to Grayson in ways she hadn’t anticipated, she found herself questioning everything.
Did she still want to break the bond? Could she? None of her potions had worked, and Elena’s warning about the dangers of severing sounded so ominous. What would happen if the bond was truly tied to their souls if she succeeded? What would she lose in the process?
And what about Grayson? He deserved to know the truth, didn’t he? But how could she tell him when she wasn’t even sure how she felt about it herself?
Cora leaned back against the couch, her eyes drifting to the ceiling. Her thoughts spiraled in circles, each question leading to another until she felt like she might scream from the sheer weight of it all.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered to the empty room. “None of it.”
But even as the words left her lips, she knew they weren’t entirely true. She hadn’t asked for the bond, or the danger, or the chaos that had become her life. But she had asked for Grayson. She had chosen to let him in, to trust him, even when it went against every instinct she had.
And now, despite everything, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
The thought hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless. She had spent so long fighting the bond, trying to convince herself that she didn’t need him or want him. But the truth was far messier, far more complicated.
She wanted him. Not because of the bond but because of who he was—because of the way he made her feel seen and understood in a way no one else ever had. Because he cared for her, not just as his mate, but as a person.
Cora closed her eyes, letting the truth settle over her like a heavy blanket. She didn’t have all the answers—not yet—but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was starting to figure out what she wanted.
Chapter 22 - Grayson
Grayson crouched low in the shadows of the dense forest outside Voss’ compound. The cold bite of the night didn’t faze him. His attention was focused on the movement of the sentries patrolling the perimeter. He signaled to Ryder and Zane with two sharp flicks of his fingers, and the three of them crept closer, careful to keep their footsteps silent over the mossy ground.
“We’ve got two guards at the main entrance,” Ryder whispered. “No sign of others yet.”
Grayson caught the flicker of motion behind a stack of crates. “There’s a third. East corner, behind the supply drop.”
Zane huffed softly. “Three guards? They’re not even trying.”
“Don’t get cocky,” Grayson warned. “The easier it looks, the more likely it’s a trap.”
They circled wide, skirting the edge of the tree line until they reached a weak point in the compound’s fencing. Ryder produced a pair of wire cutters and sliced through the links one by one until he had created an opening wide enough to accommodate them. Within seconds, they slipped through, on alert for any sign of movement.
Inside, the compound smelled of oil and fear. Grayson’s stomach churned as they passed a row of holding cages, most of them empty but still bearing the scent of those who had been trapped there. The metallic tang of blood clung to the air, and he worked hard to keep his emotions in check.
“This place reeks of death,” Ryder complained.
“We’re here to put an end to it,” Grayson reminded him. “Focus.”
As they moved deeper into the compound, Zane gestured toward a cluster of crates stacked haphazardly near the back wall. Grayson nodded, and they approached cautiously. Ryder pried one open with a crowbar, revealing a cache of weapons—silver-coated blades, tranquilizer darts, and restraints designed to suppress supernatural strength and magic.
“Preparing for a war,” Zane noted.
“They’re already fighting one,” Grayson responded. “We need to take these out.”
Working quickly, they sabotaged the crates, snapping triggers and pouring corrosive liquid from a nearby workbench onto the weapons. The acrid stench of melting metal filled the air, and Grayson hoped it would be enough to render the supplies useless.
As they moved further in, they entered what appeared to be an administrative area. File cabinets lined one wall, and a map of the region was tacked to a corkboard. Red pins marked multiple locations, including Bellefleur. Grayson’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the map.
