"What would convince you?" I ask. "What evidence would you need?"
"To start? Meeting the brotherhood. Seeing proof they exist and this isn't just you trying to recruit me into your criminal organization." She crosses her arms. "You could be lying about everything. Playing hero to gain my cooperation while actually planning to eliminate the cop who's been investigating your operations."
"I could be," I agree. "But if I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead. I had you alone in an alley. I could have let those assassins finish the job. Instead I blew my cover, violated brotherhood law, and painted a target on both our backs to keep you breathing."
"Why?" She demands. "Why risk everything for a cop you barely know?"
The question hangs between us, and I don't have a good answer that doesn't sound insane. Because my tiger recognizedyou. Because watching you die wasn't an option my beast would tolerate. Because something about you called to the man I used to be before exile stripped away my honor.
"Because I needed to." The words come out flat. "My tiger decided you live. Everything else is just noise."
She studies me for a long moment. "Call your brotherhood. I'll meet them, hear them out, and make my own judgment. But understand—if this is a setup, if you're lying, I will find a way to bring you all down."
The steel in her voice hits something primal in me.
"Fair enough." I gesture toward the seating area. "This conversation is going to take a while. Might as well be comfortable while we wait."
She takes a breath, recalibrating everything she thought she knew. "So you're a double agent working both sides."
"The brotherhood aren't heroes. We're killers with a code who eliminate threats to supernatural communities. We break laws. We destroy evidence. We make people disappear." I let her see the truth without flinching. "But we don't traffic people. We don't enslave the vulnerable. We don't sell cursed artifacts for genocide. So comparatively? Yes. I work for the lesser evil while wearing the face of the greater one."
"And now your cover's blown." She says it calmly, already analyzing the new situation. "You saved me. You killed their assassins. The syndicate will come for you." She pauses. "And you transformed in front of a human. The brotherhood might come for you too."
She's already thinking tactically despite everything she's learned tonight.
"Yes. Which means you need the brotherhood's protection. I need to bring you into the fold officially. The brotherhood will make the decisions about what happens next."
"What are the options?" She asks directly, no hesitation.
"Memory alteration. Someone with that ability could erase tonight from your mind. Make you forget you saw anything supernatural. Send you back to investigating regular crimes while we handle the syndicate."
"No." Her rejection is immediate. "I'd rather die remembering truth than live in comfortable lies."
Something primal in me responds to that steel in her voice. My tiger chose well, even if I'm not ready to acknowledge what that means.
"Second option: kill you. Eliminate the witness. Protect the brotherhood by removing the threat." I let the words hang between us, brutal and honest. "I've killed for less. So have we all. Brotherhood law is absolute—our survival depends on secrecy. One outsider knowing what we are puts thousands of supernatural lives at risk."
She doesn't flinch. Just watches me steadily. "Is that what you're planning?"
"I'm considering it. The brotherhood might decide it's necessary. Our survival takes priority over individual lives. Including yours. Including mine. If they order your death, someone in that room will try to carry it out. They'll have to go through me first. I'm not saying they couldn't do it, I'm just saying it would cost them."
"Third option?" Her voice carries steel beneath the fear.
"Protection. We bring you in. We give you full knowledge and keep you alive while we dismantle the syndicate's operations. You become an asset instead of a liability."
"An asset." She repeats slowly. "What does that mean practically?"
"It means you'd work with us. You'd provide law enforcement perspective and resources we lack. You'd help coordinate against the syndicate using both legal and extralegalmethods. You'd become part of the fight instead of collateral damage in wars you didn't know existed."
Recognition hits her. I can see it in the way her shoulders drop slightly. "You're offering me a partnership. Not protection like I'm helpless. Actual collaboration where my skills have value."
"Your tactical training, legal knowledge, and investigative abilities are exactly what we need. The brotherhood specializes in supernatural threats. You specialize in criminal enterprises. Combined, we might actually take down an operation that's been running unchecked for years."
She studies me with intensity that feels like physical touch, evaluating and calculating, making decisions that will shape both our futures.
"I've seen what you are," she says finally. "I've touched you in both forms. I know shifters exist. I know there's a hidden world I didn't know about until tonight." She straightens her shoulders. "And if crimes are being committed in that world, if people are being hurt, then I want to stop it. Badge or no badge."
The refusal to back down even facing certain death makes something primal rise in me. The word mate echoes through my bones like thunder, but I shove it down before it can take root.
