CHAPTER SIX

|| Gabriel ||

💕💕

By the end of the day, I’d lost count of how many times I’d called myself every foul name in the book.

Pervert.

Sick.

Disgusting.

Predator.

The words circled my skull like vultures while I sat locked in my office long after the building went dark. I didn’t leave until the cleaning crew finished their rounds, until I was sure Amara’s car was gone from the garage, because I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t risk seeing those lips again and remembering how they tasted, how my own body had betrayed me in the worst way possible in that bathroom.

She was my best friend’s daughter… and seventeen years younger at that.

The little girl I used to carry on my shoulders.

And I’d come harder than I ever had in my life picturing her mouth on me.

I drove home with the windows down even though it was freezing, hoping the cold would slap some sense back into me.

It didn’t.

Nothing did.

The guilt sat heavy on my chest like a stone, pressing harder with every mile.

When I pulled into the driveway, the last thing I expected was light pouring out of my front windows.

I never left lights on. I froze with my hand on the door handle, every instinct going on alert—until I caught the faint scent of lavender and old books.

Aunt Sue.

I walked in to find her standing in my living room like she owned the place (which, to be fair, she kind of did; she’d raised me here after my parents died).

Gray hair twisted into that severe bun she’d worn for fifty years, arms crossed, looking exactly like the woman who used to chase me around with a wooden spoon when I misbehaved.

“Gabriel Alexander,” she greeted, smile soft but eyes sharp. “You look like death warmed over.”

I dropped my keys in the bowl. “Aunt Sue. It’s almost midnight. What are you doing here, and why didn’t you call? I would’ve picked you up from the airport.”

“And have my favorite nephew interrupt his very important brooding? Never.” She waved me off, then pulled me into a hug that smelled like home and crushed herbs. “Besides, I took a cab. I’m not completely helpless.”

I kissed the top of her head out of habit. “What’s wrong? You only show up unannounced when the world’s ending.”

She pulled back, expression turning grave. “Sit down, boy.”

My stomach dropped. I obeyed without question; old habits from childhood died hard.

She didn’t sit… just stood there, hands clasped in front of her like she was praying. “I got word from the hunters tonight.”

Everything in me went still.

“Which hunters?” I asked, voice rough.

“The old ones. The ones who still answer to the Council.” She took a breath. “One of their trackers picked up a reading two nights ago. Here. In the city.”

“What kind of reading?”

Her eyes met mine. “The kind that only the Emerald Wolf sets off.”

The air left my lungs in a rush.

The Emerald Wolf.

A legend older than our bloodline. A myth most of us stopped believing in centuries ago. Said to appear once every hundred years, cloaked in living emerald flame, carrying healing magic strong enough to rewrite death itself.

And cursed. Always cursed. Every story ended the same; whoever claimed its power paid a price no one ever survived.

I laughed, but it came out broken. “You know that is a fairy tale, Aunt Sue. We’ve had clues like this and only ended up chasing ghosts. I don’t… I don’t want to keep having hopes that a miracle will happen one day.”

She reached out and smacked me upside the head; hard enough to sting.

“Stop that,” she snapped. “Just because you gave up doesn’t mean the rest of us did.”

I rubbed the spot, scowling, and she continued, “There’s been nothing. Not a whisper. Not a single verified sighting in two centuries. And now suddenly—now suddenly—a tracker built by the Council itself lights up like the damn sun, right here in your city, and you want to call it coincidence?” She stepped closer, voice dropping. “Gabriel. Listen to me. They’re not sure yet. They’re still running tests. But if this is real… if the Emerald Wolf has truly awakened…”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.

Because we both knew what it would mean.

My illness.

The illness that I had carried in my veins for thirty years and had slowly eaten me alive since I was a child… until there was almost nothing left.

Aunt Sue had resumed research about the Emerald Wolf twenty years ago… but nothing ever happened. I had accepted my fate, made peace with it. Arranged everything: my company, pack, money, even wrote letters I’d never send.

I was ready to die.

But now…

I shook my head. “Even if it’s real, the hunters will get there first. They always do. And they’ll cage it, bleed it dry, sell pieces of it to the highest bidder. We’d never…”

“We will if we move faster,” she cut in fiercely. “You have resources they don’t. Money. Connections. People who owe you their lives. You find that wolf before they do, Gabriel, and you bring it here.”

“You want me to hunt a mythical creature that might not even exist, in a city of eight million people, while racing actual hunters who’ve been doing this since before I was born. All while I’m dying.”

“Yes,” she said simply.

I laughed again, bitter. “And when I find it? What then? Ask nicely if it’ll cure me? Hope it doesn’t rip my throat out for the trouble?”

She grabbed my face in both hands, forcing me to look at her. Her eyes were wet, but her voice was steel.

“You listen to me, boy. That wolf is hope. The first real hope we’ve had in twenty damn years. And I am not watching you waste away in that bed like your father did. Not while there’s still a chance.”

I swallowed hard. My father had died from the same curse. Slowly. Painfully. Screaming at the end.

I closed my eyes. “I don’t want to get my hopes up again.”

“I know.” She softened, thumbs brushing my cheeks. “But you don’t have the luxury of giving up anymore. You do not have much time, Gabriel. And if the Emerald Wolf is really out there…”

She let go and stepped back, expression hardening again.

“Then you better get to using every resource, every connection, every favor you’ve got to find it and get it to cure you of this illness…”

She paused, letting the weight of it settle.

“…or else you will die in four months.”