26

ALEXANDER

Watching Alina fall apart like that did something to me.

For the first time, I truly saw her, not just the woman fate tied me to, but the fragile, frightened girl life had chewed up and spit out. She wasn’t just hurting. She was surviving. And though I didn’t understand why she was mine, one thing was clear as day: I’d burn the world to keep her safe. She’d been given scraps by life; I could at least make sure no one else took from her.

When I found out about the council, I hadn’t been planning to act immediately. I was in my office, sorting through reports, when the whispers turned concrete. That they were considering putting a bounty on her head.

Liam had mentioned it first, brushing it off like gossip. But the shift in his tone made my jaw clench. They wouldn’t dare, I’d told myself. They couldn’t possibly be that stupid.

Every werewolf and lycan was born with a mate. One fated, destined. Sometimes a second-chance mate appeared, but it was rare enough that people dismissed it as folklore. And yet, they were playing with mine.

I held her to me as she trembled, rage bleeding through the edges of my restraint. My mind was already writing war into motion, drawing red across every path that led to her harm. I didn’t send threats. I didn’t issue warnings. When someone crossed the line, I erased them from the map.

That’s why I killed the boy.

Whether he meant to kill her or just rattle her, I didn’t give a damn. He touched what was mine.

Only I touched her. Only I held her. Only I made her cry, never from fear. And if anyone tried again, they’d meet a version of me even I barely kept under control.

Once her breathing steadied, once her grip on my shirt loosened, I scooped her up and carried her to the car. For a moment, I wished I’d brought a driver so I wouldn’t have to let her go, but I’d wanted the drive alone with her. Time without interruptions, without my fists curling in response to some fool’s arrogance.

The council still had their heads because of her. That was a fact.

I brushed strands of hair from her face, unwilling to move. My hands hovered near her cheek, thumb tracing the soft warmth of her skin. I didn’t want to let go. I hated that I had to.

Eventually, I opened the door, fastened her seatbelt, and slid into the driver’s side. She was calmer now, but her silence hung heavy in the air. Not the sulky kind. The haunted kind.

I couldn’t blame her.

Someone had placed a target on her back. Just knowing that could knock the breath out of anyone.

That’s why I’d kept it from her. I’d planned to handle it. Quietly. Cleanly. There was no benefit to dragging her into the mess. It would only unnerve her, and I didn’t need her spiraling.

Turns out I’d been right.

At the estate, I walked her to her room. Stayed until she relaxed into the bed. Only then did I leave.

I hadn’t made it far when Claude cut me off in the hall. His face said it all, he was ready to start a fight.

“What do you want?” I didn’t slow my pace.

He kept up, tone smug. “Spill the tea, brother.”

I didn’t even try to hide my irritation. “I have better things to do than gossip.”

“Of course you do,” he said with mock deference. “Important things, like threatening the elders and starting a war.” He gestured to his chest. “Which, in case you’ve forgotten, also involves me. So by all means, spill.”

I kept walking.

He trailed behind, but at least had the sense to shut up once we reached my office.

“When did you find out?” he asked, voice leveled out now.

I considered ignoring him. But Claude didn’t leave without getting what he came for.

“I got a tip,” I said.

He waited, knowing there was more.

“The boy confirmed it.”

Claude nodded, mouth tight.

“What did you find on him?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “Couple of weak poisons. A dagger that couldn’t gut a squirrel. And this.” He held up a rusty necklace that looked like something from a roadside stall.

I frowned. “What was the plan?”

“Judging by what he carried, I’d say it wasn’t to kill her outright. More like… get close. Stay close.” He hesitated. “You know she’s soft on those mutts. They saved her once. When her pack was attacked.”

A flicker of something cold tightened in my chest. I didn’t want to think about what she’d been through.

The mutts, werewolves, had been hunting Lycans for centuries. They still did, when they thought they could get away with it. Packs with even a trace of lycan blood were wiped out. But when the tables turned, they had the gall to cry injustice.

Hypocrites.

“That poison,” Claude continued, “I can’t tell who it was meant for. You or her.”

I raised a brow.

He sighed like it exhausted him just dealing with me. “It’s not strong enough to kill a lycan outright. Needs to build up. Repeated exposure. Over time.”

And then it clicked.

It wasn’t meant to kill. It was meant to weaken. Steady. Subtle. Break the body down, little by little, until the victim couldn’t stand, couldn’t fight.

They were trying to reduce someone to a shadow. To nothing.

And I knew exactly who they had in mind.

Me.

If they had any sense, they’d have finished the job today. But now, they’d only bought themselves a slower death.

Because I was going to kill every last one of them. And I was going to enjoy it.

They might have started this war.

But I was going to finish it.