"I suggest you convey a message to your employer," I continued, my voice dropping to a register that humans typically found unsettling. A century of practice had perfected it. "Any business he wishes to conduct in my territory will be donethrough proper channels. Any items or persons he believes he has claim to within these walls are now under my protection."
My bear practically purred at that declaration. Protection. Yes. The young man behind me was under my protection now, though I had yet to fully understand why my instincts were so insistent about it.
"You're making a mistake," Neck-optional tried one last time, though he was already backing into the hallway. "That kid is nothing but trouble."
"Trouble," I said with a slight curl of my lip, "is what happens when people forget whose territory they're standing in."
I stepped fully into the doorway now, my frame filling it completely. I didn't raise my voice—I never needed to. Volume was a crutch for those who lacked actual power.
"I won't ask you again to leave," I said, every word precisely formed and heavy with unspoken threat. "The next request will come from Ivan and Sergei, and they're not known for their diplomatic approach."
My security team shifted behind the intruders, their hands moving casually toward the weapons I knew were concealed beneath their jackets.
For a moment, I thought Neck-optional might be stupid enough to protest further. His face flushed red, and his fists clenched at his sides. But Weasel-face grabbed his partner's arm, tugging him back.
"We'll tell Mr. O'Rourke you were... uncooperative," Weasel-face said, trying to salvage some dignity from their retreat.
"Tell him whatever you like," I replied dismissively. "It won't change the outcome."
I waited until they had backed fully into the hallway before addressing my security team. "See them out, all the way to the street, then ensure they understand that returning would be unwise."
Ivan nodded once, his expression never changing. He and Sergei flanked the unwelcome visitors, herding them toward the stairs like shepherds guiding particularly dim-witted sheep.
I closed the door firmly, turning the lock with a satisfying click. Only then did I allow myself to exhale slowly, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly.
That had been... interesting.
In a century of protecting my territory, I'd never felt such a visceral response to a threat against someone else. Usually, my concern was for my business, my reputation, or my possessions. Clinical, calculated protection of investments.
This was different. This was hot, primal, and utterly confusing.
I turned slowly to face the young man who had somehow triggered this unprecedented reaction. He was still behind my desk, though he'd emerged from underneath it. He stood with his back to the wall, watching me with those striking green eyes—wary, yes, but also with a hint of something else.
Relief? Gratitude? Curiosity?
Whatever it was, it made my bear stir again with that same possessive hunger. "They'll be back," I said, breaking the silence between us. "With reinforcements, most likely."
He swallowed, his throat working visibly. "Yeah, that's kind of O'Rourke's thing. He doesn't give up easily."
"Neither do I, Mishka," I replied simply.
And that was perhaps the most honest thing I'd said all evening. Once I claimed something as mine—once I decided to protect it—I never surrendered it willingly. Not in a century of existence had I backed down from what I considered mine. And for reasons I couldn't yet articulate, this young man had just been added to that very short list.
I studied the young man before me with newfound interest. His blond hair was slightly disheveled, adding to the appearanceof vulnerability, but there was nothing vulnerable about the sharp intelligence in those green eyes.
Now that the immediate threat had retreated, I could appreciate the puzzle he presented. O'Rourke didn't send goons after random trespassers. This one had value—specific value that made him worth the risk of encroaching on my territory.
The question was, what made him so special?
My bear already knew the answer, though it had nothing to do with whatever skills had caught O'Rourke's attention. The animal inside me had decided this young man was valuable for entirely different reasons—reasons that made my skin feel too tight and my pulse quicken in a way it hadn't in decades.
I extended my hand toward him, palm up, an invitation, not a command. "They're gone," I said, keeping my voice low. "For now."
He eyed my hand like it might transform into a bear's paw at any moment. Smart kid. It could, though I hadn't lost control of my shift in over seventy years.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, still not taking my offered hand. "You don't know me. For all you know, I could be exactly what they said—a thief."
"Are you?"
