Yes, my wolf says.The vampire could be a means to an end. We need to do whatever it takes for our mate to trust us and become who she’s meant to be.
The sound of Rowan’s growl from earlier replays in my mind. She may not understand what she is now, but the fire of her inner wolf is already there, and to see her strength—even used against me—did things to me that I don’t have time to dissect.
Will she actually be the undoing of our world as we know it? And if she is, will I be able to care?
I’ve spent years hating the Ashmark, but I already know the answer. I won’t give a shit what Rowan does or what she becomes.
I’ll help her burn this whole fucking world to the ground if that’s what she ultimately desires.
One look into her fiery gaze made that all but certain.
My stare returns to Rowan’s window. Her heartbeat is quieter, and I take that to mean she’s finally resting. Still, I return to the rock to keep watch.
I might have been drawn here because of the mate bond, but that doesn’t mean I’m the only one aware that the prophecy has begun.
NightShade may be neutral ground, but that will only deter the cowards. The worst of our kind won’t fear consequences. They break rules, shatter bones, and rip through protections like tissue paper.
Any one of the guests currently staying here could have sent word about her arrival, which is why I can’t leave. It doesn’t matter that Iris kicked out everyone after the explosion. Any one of the prior occupants could have sensed the energy before they left. It was too late the moment Rowan walked through the doors.
She’s too far removed from all this to be left under the supervision of Iris and Liz. They can’t protect her on their own. Plus, even if Rowan were to shift out of pure survival instincts, she’s not ready to defend herself against those who will mean her harm.
Not yet, anyway. I plan on making sure that changes, because regardless of the possibility that Rowan might want nothing to do with me, I won’t leave her vulnerable. More importantly, I won’t let Iris make promises that are built on weak beliefs like nothing bad can happen simply by keeping her granddaughter inside that manor.
A brittle crunch sounds behind me.
It’s faint—barely more than a shift of weight on dried leaves—but enough to make my body still and every nerve flare to life.
Someone’s here,my wolf confirms, low and lethal.
They won’t touch her,I vow, already turning toward the intruder.
Maybe they’re not here for Rowan,he offers, cautious.
I don’t care.Intent means nothing when there’s somuch at stake. Even if my penchant for killing first and asking questions later keeps me from Rowan, I know I can’t take the risk ofhopingthis is just another guest showing up at NightShade, tonight of all nights.
I catch the scent—muted, unfamiliar, cloaked by magic—and I start stalking. Silent and deadly.
Whoever it is, they remain still, as if they think I’ll pass them by. But I see the interruption in the shadows. The outline of a figure, faceless, wrapped in glamor, moving like smoke through the trees.
This is no curious guest.
My wolf surges forward.
The shift snaps through me, bones cracking, skin stretching. Within seconds, I’m on four legs—coiled muscle, sharpened claws, and the fury of an alpha rogue with nothing left to lose.
The trespasser darts east, their speed quick.
But I’m faster.
Energy pulses through my limbs, heightened by the mate bond that already simmers beneath my skin. Every stride shortens the distance between us, the earth blurring beneath my paws. I prepare to leap with my jaws open, breath hot with bloodlust.
Just as I do, the shadow crosses the boundary line of NightShade’s grounds. He turns back to face me, revealing bright silver eyes—Glacier Crest Pack.
My snarl deepens, but before my claws can make contact, he vanishes.
One heartbeat, he’s there, showing me something I’m not sure I was meant to see. The next, only wind.
My wolf skids to a halt, nose twitching as we scent the air.
