Wake Up Call

Rhett:

I wake right as the sun breaks when I hear a knock at Isadora's door. It is a slow, deliberate tap, not the kind meant for polite company.

I’m on my feet before Isadora even stirs. Instinct. My body moves the way a wolf does when it hears the first twig break in a dark wood—quiet, ready.

I ease around her bed, every sense sharpened. The faint scent of singed air still lingers from her nightmare, a heat that shouldn’t belong in this cold stone room. My hand finds the door latch, fingers flexing.

Another knock, sharper.

I pull it open.

Viktor stands there, pale as a winter moon and twice as smug. Black hair glints midnight blue under the corridor torches. Those crimson eyes slide over my shoulder toward the bed like he’s cataloguing every shadow she casts.

“What the hell do you want?” My voice comes out low, rough. Not a question so much as a warning.

He leans against the jamb, long and elegant, like the doorframe is a throne he deserves. “Relax, wolf. I didn’t get to finish my dance before your friend, the prince, dragged her off. Thought I’d make sure the lady’s all right.” His smile cuts sharp. “But I see she’s apparently only into royals.”

The words hit like a blade slipped under the ribs.

The room tilts red. My hands tighten on the door until the wood creaks. He’s still smiling, like he knows exactly how deep the remark digs.

A growl builds in my chest, low and dangerous. My vision narrows to the pale line of his throat. One step forward and I could—

“Rhett.”

Kai’s voice, calm and bright as struck gold, comes from behind me. He doesn’t raise it. He doesn’t have to.

I feel him before I see him—warmth, a faint hum of light magic prickling at the edge of my senses. He steps up beside me, easy and unhurried, like we’re all here for an early morning tea instead of a potential murder.

“Good morning, Viktor,” Kai says, smooth as silk. “Checking on her? That’s thoughtful.” He lets a small, knowing smile tug at his mouth. “But you can see she’s in good hands.”

His words carry a gentle edge, the kind that isn’t a threat until you listen harder.

Viktor’s grin falters for half a heartbeat. He straightens, crimson eyes flicking between us. “Good hands,” he echoes, as if tasting the words for weakness.

The growl in me doesn’t fade. I can smell the faint metallic tang of Viktor’s cursed blood beneath his skin, the cold night air clinging to his coat. My claws want out. My teeth ache.

Kai’s shoulder brushes mine—a subtle, grounding pressure. “You’ve checked,” he says, voice still honey-smooth. “She’s fine. Now maybe you should check on your own business before the sun fully raises, wouldn't want to get a nasty sun burn, would we?”

A long silence. Sun beams dances across Viktor’s face, making his pale complexion glow.

Finally, he tilts his head in a mocking half-bow. “Enjoy your…vigil.” The pause before the word drips with meaning. Then he’s gone, footsteps soft against the stone corridor until they vanish altogether.

The door shuts with a quiet click.

I stay there, breathing hard, the scent of him still sharp in my nose. My pulse pounds like a drumline.

Kai lets the silence stretch, then exhales a soft laugh. “You almost lost it.”

“I didn’t.” The denial is too quick, too sharp. My fingers are still curled into fists.

“He was baiting you,” Kai says mildly, leaning against the wall. “And you nearly took the hook.”

“He talked about her like—” The words break off. I don’t finish, because finishing would mean admitting how deep that barb went.

Kai watches me, eyes bright, unreadable. “She’s safe. That’s what matters.”

I drag a hand through my hair, force the breath to slow. He’s right. He’s infuriatingly right. But the wolf in me doesn’t care about logic; it only cares about the memory of Viktor’s smirk and the way his eyes lingered on her.

From the bed, a soft rustle. Isadora stirs, her voice a whisper scraped with sleep. “Rhett…?”

I turn, and everything in me eases at once. She’s sitting up, sunlight painting her face soft features golden, eyes heavy but clear.

“It’s nothing,” I say, softer than I mean to. “Go back to sleep.”

Kai gives me a look—half amusement, half warning—before slipping back toward the staircase, his golden glow dimming as he climbs.

I stay by the door until her breathing evens again, every muscle still coiled, listening for another knock that won’t come.

The morning outside is still silent, but the storm in my chest isn’t anywhere close to finished.