I don’t answer. Can’t. The rage building in my chest feels too big for words.
“You’re not gonna do something stupid, are you?”
“Stupid? Define stupid,” I grind out.
“You know… Anything that involves death. Destruction. Dismemberment?” She pauses when I don’t answer. “Nadia? You’re not thinking of anything along those lines, are you?” There’s another pause. “Nadia?”
I end the call.
The phone stays in my hand, screen dimming to black. My reflection stares back—pale green eyes that flash silver when thelight catches them wrong, long black hair tangled by wind and movement, jaw locked tight.
Five years. Five years since I felt the bond snap.
I’d been standing in my mother’s kitchen when the call came. She’d been cooking. Something with garlic and rosemary that made the small house smell like home. I’d been laughing at one of her stories, relaxed and happy, when my phone buzzed. One look at the caller ID and I’d known. The way you always know when the worst has happened.
Mission compromised. Casualties sustained. Chance was among the dead.
The words had been gentle. Apologetic. Final.
I remember my mother’s arms around me as I fell. I remember the scent of rosemary mixing with the salt of my tears. I remember the bond snapping. That golden thread that had connected us since we were teenagers, since the moment we looked at each other with his easy smile and warm brown eyes, and I knew we were meant to be together forever.
Except forever ended on a Tuesday while my mother was cooking dinner, and I was laughing about nothing important.
Jericho Allon had run the team that took him down. Given the order. Stood somewhere safe while his operatives ambushed a mission that should have been routine.
And now Viktor wants to give him sanctuary. Protection. A second chance he never gavemyChance.
My pulse ticks hard against my collarbone. My wolf surges closer to the surface, wanting out, wanting to hunt, wanting blood.
Soon.
I shove the phone back in my pocket and keep moving.
The forest opens into a small clearing. I stop, crouch low, every sense honed. My wolf lends me her gifts even in human form—sharper hearing, keener smell, the ability to taste fear on the wind.
Nothing. Just the distant hoot of an owl and the whisper of snow falling from overburdened branches.
I’m about to move when I catch it. Footsteps. Two sets. Moving fast through the underbrush.
I melt into the shadows behind a thick pine. Then the scents hit me. Familiar. Unexpected.
Mara. And Kael.
Dammit.
They emerge into the clearing moments later. Mara’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed from exertion, emerald eyes sparkling. Kael moves beside her with that ancient grace that makes it look like he’s gliding rather than walking.
“Nadia.” Mara stops several yards away, hands visible. Non-threatening. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I step out from behind the pine. “Go back to Aurora.”
“We can’t do that.” Kael’s voice carries the weight of centuries. “Not until we know you’re thinking clearly.”
“I’m thinking very clearly.” My voice comes out hard. “Jericho Allon is traveling toward Aurora protection. I’m going to intercept him before he gets there. It’s simple.”
“It’s suicide.” Mara’s voice cracks. “Nadia, he’ll have armed escorts. Aurora operatives anticipating an attack. You’ll be outnumbered and outgunned.”
“I’ll be a wolf.” I meet her eyes. “And wolves don’t need guns.”
