LOGIN“They’re sweeping the district tonight—checkpoints, door-to-door.”Kieran’s words tasted like metal in my mouth.“How many?” Daire asked.“Enough.” Kieran wiped a hand over his face, leaving a faint smear of sweat on his temple. “They’ve already locked down the main arteries. I counted three mobile units and at least two scent teams before I made it back up here. This building is on their list.”“How do you know?” I asked, even though the dread in my ribs already knew the answer.He lifted his phone. A blurry shot of the corner outside our building’s entrance glowed on the screen—Tribunal vans parked at the end of the block, black-jacketed figures checking IDs under a portable light“And,” Kieran added, “because their “evaluation prep” tags were freshly planted in our stairwell. They don’t waste those on places they don’t plan to visit.”The baby shifted, restless. The kick from a minute ago had left a dull ache in my lower belly, a reminder that I wasn’t just one person on a list.“H
The words *asset claim pending* echoed long after the screen went back to the usual shouting heads.I stared at nothing, hand still in Daire’s. The bond tugged like a live wire under my skin, too aware of him, too aware of the cold coil of fear in my gut.“I need air,” I said.He hesitated. “We shouldn’t—”“In the other room,” I cut in. “Not outside. I’m not suicidal.”That seemed to reassure him, which said a lot about his week.He let go of my hand slowly, as if reluctant to break contact, then stood and offered me his.I took it more to get my legs under me than for anything else.We walked to the smaller bedroom—*my* room—together. I left the door halfway open. Let Kieran eavesdrop if he wanted. Secrets had done enough damage.Once inside, Daire leaned back against the closed closet door like he needed it at his spine. I sank down on the edge of the bed, feeling the springs complain.Silence stretched. Not comfortable. Not entirely hostile. Just… waiting.“Say it,” I said finally.
The crushed camera sat on the coffee table like a dead insect.Kieran had pried it open with a screwdriver, just to be sure. The tiny lens was a spiderweb of cracks. The internal chip was cracked clean through. No light. No sound. No more blinking red eye on our balcony.“Think they got anything?” I asked.“Probably,” he said. “But not this.” He nudged the broken pieces with one knuckle. “This was maintenance. A live peek to see if their sniff-tags were paying off.”“Comforting,” I muttered.“Comfort’s not on the menu,” he said. “But information is.”***Comfort definitely wasn’t on the menu the next morning.Calista’s face was.It bloomed across every screen in the apartment. The guards had the news feed on low in the hall, the volume barely above a murmur. Kieran had three different channels open on his laptop, each with a commentator dissecting the same thing.The interview was pre-taped, packaged beautifully, and airing on the loop.“Turn it off,” I said from the kitchen doorway.
Kieran took the phone from my hand, scanned the single sentence, and let out a low whistle.“Subtle,” he said. “Anonymous threats always are.”Daire’s fingers tightened around the back of the chair he was gripping. “Number?” he asked.“Burner,” Kieran said after a few taps. “Bounced through three towers. Could be anyone with half a brain and a grudge.”“Or half a brain and a keyboard,” I said. “Plenty of those around.”“Don’t let it dig in,” Kieran added, handing the phone back. “They’re trying to get under your skin so you crawl into a hole and do their job for them.”“Too late,” I said. “My skin was already thin.”Daire’s gaze sharpened. “You’re not property,” he said, the word so sharp it could cut.“Tell that to the man in the hallway who thought I charged by the hour,” I shot back. “Or to the Tribunal who put my species on the ‘recoverable’ list.”His jaw clenched. He didn’t argue. Maybe he knew better by now.Kieran pushed away from the wall. “I’ve got a better way to shut them
Calista’s voice bled out of Kieran’s phone like poison.“…uses a stolen bloodline to steal my husband. And I’m taking him back.”The host made a sympathetic noise. The crawler at the bottom of the screen read:**LUNA DRAVENNE SPEAKS: “ALPHA VHALOREN IS BEING MANIPULATED.”**I wanted to throw up.Daire stared at the screen, something raw crossing his face before he slammed the emotion back behind a hard, flat mask.“She’s good,” Kieran said. “I’ll give her that.”Daire’s hand curled around the edge of the binding-room shelf hard enough that the wood creaked. “We’re done watching her puppet show,” he said. “We move to the ground I can control.”“Where?” I asked. “You’ve already dragged me through three safehouses and an enclave. You have more secret boltholes lying around?”“Yes,” he said, simply. “One.”***The “one” turned out to be a guarded apartment on the edge of a Nightmoor-heavy district—high enough in the building that you couldn’t accidentally fall out of a window without tryi
Kieran’s message blinked like a wound.**MARRIAGE RECORD: FLAGGED BY TRIBUNAL AUTHORITY.**For a second, all I heard was my own breathing and the faint buzz of a dying streetlight overhead.“Already?” I asked. “We barely walked away from the registrar.”“Crowe has alerts set for anything with your scent on it now,” Kieran said. “Figuratively. And maybe literally.”Daire’s jaw tightened. “Flagged doesn’t mean annulled.”“It means he’s noticed,” Kieran said. “And is deciding how much he hates it.”My bracelet pulsed, a restless throb under my sleeve.“We filed in human courts,” I said. “Doesn’t that—”“It slows him,” Kieran said. “Doesn’t stop him. Wolf courts matter, too. Especially to Nightmoor.”Daire nodded once. “We need a pack-binding. Something the wolf courts recognize, not just the humans.”I stiffened. “That sounds suspiciously like more ritual and less choice.”“Different kind of ink,” Kieran said. “Nightmoor law won’t ignore a completed binding, even if the Tribunal kicks an







