CHAPTER 3: Blood Debts

The garage was a temple of chrome and carbon fiber... Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and a matte black Bugatti that looked like a sleeping predator. In the center sat a motorcycle that looked like it had been built for a war zone.

Caspian headed straight for it.

"No way," I said. "I'm not getting on that thing in a dress."

He tossed me a leather jacket from a nearby hook. "Put this on. And these too."

A pair of leather pants followed, along with boots. I changed quickly, hyper-aware of his eyes on me. The leather fit perfectly. Too perfectly.

"Whose are these, Caspian?"

"No one's... not anymore." His tone was flat, a wall I couldn't climb over.

He swung a leg over the bike and revved the engine. The sound echoed off the concrete like a challenge. I got on, wrapping my arms around his waist. His body was solid, radiating heat, and I caught his scent again... smoke, whiskey, and that primal pull that made my wolf restless.

"Hold tight," he said.

We exploded out of the garage, the bike roaring as we tore down the drive. The iron gates of Thornhold opened just in time for us to blast through, and then we were on the main road, moving far faster than was legal.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to an abandoned warehouse. Rusted metal, broken windows, and industrial decay. It was the kind of place where people went to disappear.

"This is your friend's place?" I asked as we dismounted.

"David doesn't believe in curb appeal." Caspian walked toward a side door, and it opened before he could knock.

A massive man emerged, even bigger than Caspian, with a shaved head and cold blue eyes. Tattoos covered every inch of his skin. He looked at Caspian, then at me, and his lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

"You bought a pet," he said. The accent was thick, Eastern European. "How domestic."

"She’s not a pet." Caspian’s hand found my lower back, firm and possessive. "She’s mine. There’s a difference."

"Is there?" David’s eyes raked over me. "She looks expensive... and terrified."

"My usual type didn't have a bounty on their head within an hour of purchase." Caspian pushed past him into the warehouse. "We need information. Fast."

Inside, the warehouse was a high-tech fortress. State-of-the-art monitors lined one wall, weapons another. In the center was a table covered in maps and surveillance gear.

"Who put the bounty?" David asked, moving to the screens.

"Marcus Thorne. Alpha. Old money. His son owed him five million in gambling debts, which is how Rielle ended up on the block."

"And you paid five million for her?" David glanced back at me. "What’s so special about the girl?"

"She’s mine," Caspian said again. His voice dropped to a subhuman register. "That’s all the special she needs to be."

Something passed between them... a look of silent understanding that I wasn't part of.

"Fine." David turned back to his screens. His fingers flew across the keyboard. "Marcus Thorne. CEO of Thorne Industries, Alpha of the Shadowpaw pack. Net worth: two billion. Known for trafficking, drugs, and the occasional murder for hire." David pulled up more files. "He’s run the auction house for twenty years. He sells werewolves, but also humans with rare blood, psychics, and..." He stopped, his eyes narrowing at the screen.

"And what?" Caspian asked.

"Occasionally... First Moon descendants."

The room went cold. David looked at me, his gaze no longer clinical. "You know what that is?"

It wasn't actually a question... it was a death sentence.

I swallowed hard. "My mother... she wasn't just any werewolf. She was pure bloodline. A direct descendant of the First Moon." I looked away, the weight of the secret I’d kept for years finally breaking. "That’s why Marcus wanted me in the auction. He wanted me sold to someone he could control. I guess my blood is worth more than gold to him."

Silence fell like a guillotine.

"Damn," David breathed. "Caspian, do you have any idea what that means? If she carries First Moon blood, she could produce heirs with abilities lost for centuries. Strength. Healing. Longevity. She’s a genetic jackpot for breeders like Marcus"

"Stop talking about me like I’m livestock," I snapped.

"You were literally sold at auction," David pointed out. "Not much difference."

Caspian’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his entire demeanor shifted into something feral.

"It’s him," he said. "Marcus."

He answered and put it on speaker.

"Mr. Valdyr," Marcus Thorne’s voice was smooth, cultured venom. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"I have something I paid for in full," Caspian corrected.

"She’s not yours to keep. Return her within twenty-four hours, and I’ll cancel the bounty. I’ll even refund your purchase price."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you’ll understand why people don't steal from me. I know what you are, Valdyr. I know you’re not just another rich Alpha playing at power. But even Lycans can bleed. And I have resources you can’t imagine."

"So do I." Caspian’s voice was dead calm. "And unlike you, I don't make threats I can't follow through on."

The line went dead.

I stared at Caspian. "You actually told Marcus Thorne no?"

"I told him to get fucked." He looked at David. "I need locations, safe houses, and weapons... lots of weapons."

"You’re going to war over a girl you met two hours ago?" David shook his head. "That’s insane, even for you. But Caspian..." He paused. "If you’re keeping her, you need to claim her. Properly. A purchase isn't enough to stop other Lycans from coming after her."

"I know."

"Are you sure?" David’s gaze flicked to me. "Because if you claim her and then she dies... the bond will drive you insane. You sure you want that risk?"

"I’m sure."

My heart hammered. "What does he mean... claim me?"

Caspian stepped closer, his silver eyes burning. "Lycans don't just bond the way werewolves do, Rielle. We bond permanently. One bite, one claim, and you’re mine until one of us stops breathing. It can’t be broken, and even death doesn't sever it completely."

The room tilted. "Hold on, you’re talking about a mating bond?"

"Not just a mating bond. The bond. You’ll feel what I feel. You'll want what I want." He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "If I die, you’ll wish you died too. And it’s happening tonight, before Marcus sends his hunters."

"I don't consent..."

"You consented the moment you got on that bike. And deep down, you know it’s the only way you survive this." His voice dropped. "Marcus won't stop. But if you’re claimed by me, you’re protected by Lycan law. Anyone who touches you signs their own death warrant."

"This is happening too fast..."

"Life happens fast, sweetheart." He cupped my face. "Now decide. Stay vulnerable, or let me mark you and become untouchable. What’s it going to be?"

Behind us, David’s computers beeped urgently.

"We have company," David said. "Three vehicles approaching fast. They're heavily armed."

Caspian’s expression turned murderous. "How far?"

"Five minutes. Maybe less."

"Then we don't have time for debate." Caspian grabbed my hand. "Choose now, Rielle. Let me claim you, or I leave you here and you take your chances with whoever gets through that door first."

I looked at the door, then at the screens showing the hunters closing in. Finally, I looked at Caspian... at the man who had paid five million for me, who had threatened Marcus Thorne and his son, and who was now offering me a terrifying kind of safety.

"Do it," I whispered.

His smile was pure predator. "Good girl."

I turned to him, my pulse hammering in my throat.

Then he bent his head slowly and his mouth crashed down on mine.