The wolf is in control now.
And whatever’s about to happen next… it’s going to be nothing short of devastating.
22
DARIUS
The moment I let the wolf through, the world narrows.
It’s like heat flooding my veins, molten and sharp, stripping away hesitation, peeling back the edges of restraint until there’s nothing between me and the need to destroy what’s in front of me. The scents sharpen—gun oil, blood already spilling into the air, Tessa’s heartbeat like a fast, bright drum somewhere behind me—and every movement slows just enough for me to read it before it happens.
The first man lunges; I twist, grabbing him by the collar and hurling him into the wall so hard the drywall caves. Before he’s even hit the ground, I’m on the next, sweeping the blade low, catching his thigh just deep enough to drop him. He screams, and the sound is nothing but background noise to the roar building in my chest.
More come. I move through them like the fight is the only language I’ve ever spoken—steel flashing, fists breaking bone, bodies hitting the floor faster than they can stand up. One gets a tranq dart off, the hiss and thump of it skimming past my ribs, and I hear Tessa’s voice shout something, but it’s drowned in the bloodrush pounding in my ears.
Holden stays back, just like I expected. Letting his men soften me, weaken me, thinking I’ll burn through myself before I ever reach him. He’s leaning against the hood of the middle SUV, arms crossed like this is a performance he bought a ticket for. That smug, patient look has always been his weapon of choice. He wants you angry, sloppy.
I’m already halfway there, and I don’t care.
Two more drop under my blade, and I finally break through the line. Holden pushes off the hood, drawing a long, narrow blade from behind his back—silver-edged, I can smell it even from here. He twirls it once, casual as anything.
“Crane,” he greets like we’re meeting for drinks instead of standing in the wreckage of his own making. “You’re holding up better than I thought you would. Blood Moon in two days, though—I imagine you’ll be a real handful by then.”
I don’t answer him. Talking is for people who want something besides the kill.
I lunge, the world snapping into that tunnel of clarity, every step measured but heavy enough to shake the gravel underfoot. He parries the first swing, fast but not faster than me. Our blades lock, sparks jumping between us, and I can see in his eyes that he didn’t expect the wolf to be this close to the surface already.
He recovers, twisting out of the lock, slashing for my side. I block, barely, the impact jarring up my arm. We trade blows—silver against steel, the clash ringing in the cold night air.
A shout goes up behind me. Tessa, telling me something I can’t hear through the haze, and Holden takes the opening, slicing the edge of his blade across my ribs. The burn is instant, silver searing into flesh like fire, and the wolf in me roars, the sound bursting from my throat so raw and violent it makes the men still standing falter where they are.
I hit him hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, shoving him back into the SUV so the metal dents underhis weight. He swings for my neck, but I’m already in close, grabbing his wrist and slamming it against the car door until the blade falls. I press him there, my forearm against his throat, every muscle straining with the urge to crush him until I feel the life leave his body.
His lips curve, even with the pressure cutting his air. “Go on, Crane… show her what you really are.”
That’s when I feel her.
Small hand against my back, light at first—just a touch through the haze—and then stronger, both palms flat, grounding. Her voice cuts through the roar, quiet but sure, the way you talk to a wild animal you’re certain will bite you if you move too fast.
“Darius… it’s me. I’m right here. Look at me.”
I don’t want to. I can’t. The wolf’s still in control, still certain this man is the threat that needs to end before anything else matters. My grip tightens, Holden’s breath rasping under my arm.
She moves closer, her scent flooding the air,mine, on her skin, wrapping around me like a tether. “You’re not this,” she says, and her voice cracks just enough that it shoves past the fury. “You’re not a beast. Not with me.”
The heat in my veins surges, then stutters, like the current’s been cut. My vision blurs for a heartbeat, gold bleeding back toward my own eyes. I hear her breathing, feel the tremor in her hands, and it slices through the need to end Holden here and now.
I release him, shoving him back, my blade still ready but not moving. He stumbles toward one of his men, coughing, and they drag him toward the nearest SUV. He doesn’t look back, and I know he’ll spin this retreat into a promise to return.
The fight isn’t over. But this round is.
The second he’s gone, my knees almost buckle. The silver burn in my side is deep, every breath laced with pain, and the wolf’s still prowling inside me, pacing, looking for another reason to take the reins. My skin feels too tight, my hands still curled like claws.
Then she’s in front of me.
Her hands are on my face now, steady despite everything, and she’s looking straight into me like she can see every ugly thing I’ve ever done and still isn’t afraid. “Come back to me, Darius. Right now.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, my forehead dropping to hers. The world slows—the scents, the noise, the heat—and at last, I feel the wolf ease without a fight. Not because I forced it. Because she called it off.
