Ronan
Ipulled up outside the wrought iron gate, two uniformed guards walking up to my car, manufactured snarls on their faces to add to their intimidating presence.
“You’ve got the wrong address,” one of them started, and I rolled my eyes.
“Quit the crap, Baal. Just open the gate.”
He leaned down further and squinted as he took me in, the scowl turning into a shit-eating grin. “Well damn, Ronan. I hardly recognized you with the beard.”
It suits you… you should keep yours.
I was never getting rid of this thing.
“Fuck, how you been, man?” asked Amon, leaning in from the other side. “When was the last time I saw you, eight years ago?”
I gritted my teeth, cracking my neck. These guys were alright, but I was in no mood to catch up on old times.
“Ten. And look, you both know I’m not really here because I want to be. Can you just let me in already?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure thing. But if you’re sticking around, we still do poker once a week. Feel free to swing by.”
I gave a terse nod, knowing full well I wouldn’t be taking that invitation. How could I sit around and play poker while my mate was…
The gate opened, and I rolled up my window before they could hear the growl building in my chest at the thought of that vampire fuck laying a finger on Sage.
It had already been a day since I’d left her, and not knowing what kind of kraken shit hoops my dad was going to make me jump through to get his help was already bringing my fire close to my skin, smoke filling the car.
The driveway curved upward through carefully manicured grounds as the sprawling estate came into view. Its pale walls were smooth and unadorned, while wide arches framed shaded walkways and layered roof lines cast long, angular shadows across the courtyard.
The whole place felt insulated from the chaos of Ignareth below. No neon, no noise—just heat, silence, and the low hum of power woven into every beam and brick.
I parked where I always used to, just short of the main entrance, taking a deep breath and looking around outside my window.
Guys were everywhere. Some leaned against columns or railings, while others sprawled on steps or low walls in track suits, ink crawling up necks and arms in patterns that marked rank, allegiance, battle wins and losses, or old sins. A few glanced up openly, while others kept their gazes low, like they didn’t know me.
I stepped out of the car, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.
“Well, I’ll be fucked,” someone muttered nearby. “Didn’t think you had the balls to come back.”
My eyes darted to his mangled hands. “At least I still got all my fingers,” I sneered back, ignoring the chuckles as I started toward the entrance.
Inside, the air dropped several degrees, cool and heavy with incense and vaporleaf smoke. The entryway opened into a broad interior courtyard, stone floors polished to a dull sheen. A narrow pool ran through the center, dark water broken only by slow-moving fish that flickered beneath the surface like living beams of sunlight.
At the far end, a pair of heavy doors waited, dark wood etched with stylized demons of old in battle, great horns spiraling from their heads and tusks jutting out from their bottom lips.
I rubbed my jaw. Thank Ravaric we’d lost those things eons ago.
Two guards flanked the entrance, unmoving, until one reached for the handle.
“Don’t bother announcing me,” I said.
The doors slid open, revealing an office that was all sharp lines and controlled excess. Stone and wood, with calligraphy scrolls hanging from the walls beside modern art that had probably cost more than most city blocks. A wide desk dominated the space, and my father stood behind it, immaculate as ever. His suit was perfectly tailored, his horns shined smooth and gleaming under the soft light. Gold rings adorned his fingers, and his black hair was slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place. He smiled, his lips thin as his eyes slid over me.
“Well,” he said mildly. “Look what the werewolf dragged in.”
I stepped fully into the room as the doors closed behind me.
“He was actually trying to drag me away,” I replied, my racing heart blowing my cool cover. This man still terrified me.
