55

EZRA

The passenger side of this car was not built for a man of my stature —neither in width nor in pride. Yet, here I am again, legs crossed— or at least attempting to, while I sip my Sanguara — the sixth cup now since I've been here for the past one hour and thirty minutes— shoes off, jacket draped over my knee, listening.

To her heartbeat.

That damn heartbeat.

Steady. Measured. Occasionally quickened, sometimes slowing down just to quicken again. She wouldn’t know I was here. She can't.

I'm in a second-hand car because I know that bringing one of my cars makes me prone to tearing a human open.

The first night was unintentional. I’d been passing by after a late call, and I’d paused—just for a second. That second had become an hour. Then a habit. Now, a need.

What kind of man finds solace in the echo of a woman’s pulse through a wooden door?

A broken one.

Thea Carlisle didn’t break me. Let’s be clear about that. She just… cracked open something I didn’t know was still alive. She doesn’t even need to try. She just breathes and the demons in my head fall silent, like obedient dogs curling at her feet.

I close my eyes.

There. Her heartbeat again. Slightly faster tonight.

Was she dreaming?

I lean closer to the window, eighth Sanguara halfway to my lips just as a car pushes to the front porch, blocking the door.

I stay still. A few minutes later, the door opens and Finn is the first to hop out. Then, Thea. Then… Sebastian?

Sebastian.

I clench my jaw.

What's he doing here?

How did he get in?

Why isn't Thea flaring up right now?

Finn rushes to Sebastian and hugs him. Then, he rushes to Thea and kisses her.

I hear her giving him some set of instructions to call her when he needs help. He hurries to the car and the car zooms off, leaving Thea and Sebastian on the porch.

“Goodnight Sebastian.” I hear her say, already walking to the door, hand on the knob, ready to twist.

But then, the bastard of a man zaps through air, pushing her in and also entering after her. Then, he shuts the door with a loud thud.

I inhale a shuddering breath.

That's when I finally smell it.

Nytherin.

Fucking Nytherin!

Parasites, feeding on the fragile thread that ties a vampire to their fated mate. When Malik drained Hailey dry, she didn’t just lose blood—she lost everything. The council took their chance then, unleashing those monsters to feast on what little was left. They killed her soul, and Malik’s hatred for them burns like a wound that won’t heal. That bond between them was a mistake—an accident that invited death itself.

Nytherin aren’t always real—just shadows born from raw emotions: regret, hate, craving, desperation.

And now one of those damn things sought Thea.

I don’t even know why.

Those bitchy ghouls.

A growl tears through my throat as the mug falls from my hand. I kick the door of the car open, tearing it off its hinges before zapping through air to her door, anger coursing through my veins.

How dare it touch what's mine?

The moment my feet hit her porch, the wood groans beneath me like it knows what's coming. My fingers twitch once, twice—then curl into fists.

Her heartbeat stutters as a splitting scream slips past her throat.

I don't knock.

I don't ask.

I tear the door off its hinges.

It crashes into the hallway like thunder, wood splintering, shards flying—and then I see it.

The bastard isn't Sebastian.

It's wearing him.

A shell. A puppet.

Eyes glowing faintly violet and dark. Skin too smooth. Movements too precise.

Nytherin.

I don't know how one of those bastards even slipped out of the underworld.

It turns toward me, a smirk on his lips at first, but when its eyes land on me, they widen in fear.

Good.

I lunge.

My hand wraps around its throat before it can say a word, slamming it into the wall hard enough to shake the picture frames. Thea screams my name, but it's distant—like an echo. Right now, there's only this thing. This impersonator. This abomination in her home.

It gurgles something in a language no human should ever hear.

I don't care.

I punch through its chest. Not for the heart—no, it doesn’t have one. I go for the soul-core. That writhing little pit of silver rot buried beneath false ribs and vanity.

The Nytherin shrieks. The glamor cracks.

For a second, I think she sees it.

The real thing.

I move closer to it, covering it with my frame.

Pale, skeletal. Eyes black like pits, mouth too wide, lips torn at the edges. Slithering beneath Sebastian's features like oil on water.

I hear her gasp, her heartbeat spike.

“Ezra.” She whispers.

But I don't answer.

"You dared," I snarl into its face, claws breaking free of my fingertips. "You dared come here, in that skin, in her space?"

It hisses, voice like shattered glass. "I… I didn't know she's yours. I…"

“Now you know.” I growl as I sink my claws into its core. "Then go back to that pit that spat you out."

With one last shove, I tear the Nytherin out of its shell—ripping the soul-core from the borrowed flesh. It collapses, body smoking, rotting, twitching. Empty. And fades into the air like ashes.

Gone.

I stand over where it once was, chest heaving, jaw clenched.

Thea’s voice is behind me now. Tentative. Afraid.

“Ezra…”

I turn around slowly.

She’s staring at me. Wide-eyed. Barefoot. Hair mussed from the struggle. Lip trembling.

She doesn’t move.

She doesn’t speak.

Just stares—at the claws still half-formed on my hands, the blood dripping from my sleeves, the fangs tearing through my lips.

And she sees me.

Not the polished, controlled CEO. Not the man who walks into boardrooms like he owns the world. Not the needy man always seeking her out.

But this—the monster lurking beneath the surface. The claws, the fury, the darkness I try so hard to keep locked away. The part of me that knows he will kill for her.

For this woman. For this fiery woman that turned his life upside down.

Did she see too much?

Thea’s eyes—wide, searching, maybe even afraid.

What if this is the moment she stops wanting me?

Stops believing in the man beneath the scars and shadows.

Maybe she won’t want someone like me anymore.

Maybe she never did.

Maybe all she saw tonight was a monster.

And monsters—monsters don’t get happy endings.

But I’m terrified of what could have happened if I’d been a second too late.

“Ez… Ra… I…”

I catch her before she hits the floor, fingers tight around her waist, steadying her like she was made of glass.

Her body goes limp against me, fragile and unsteady, and my breath catches in my throat.

Fuck, she looked so vulnerable—like the world had just punched all the air out of her.

“I…” She tries to say again before her eyes flutter close.

For a moment, I fear she might never open her eyes again. I've been so close to losing her a few minutes ago.

But I can hear her heartbeat.

She fainted.

I hate feeling powerless like this, but all I could do was hold her, knowing she'll come back, not for me— she’d already seen the monster— but for him…

Finn.