13. Gift Box

Sven~

She was avoiding me. That was the only explanation for her new routine—waking up earlier or later than me, and going to bed in the same manner.

It was messing with my head, a little more than I’d like to admit. She was my first woman, my first taste, and I wasn’t about to let her go.

But how I feel doesn’t automatically make me in charge of her emotions.

Fuck, being attracted to someone was hard.

‘It isn’t hard,’ Vuk sneered. ‘Your game with women is sub-par.’

I snorted. “You’re one to talk. You’ve got zero experience.”

‘Boy, I’ve got plenty. Remember Elissa from the block? That’s proof enough, little virgin boy.’

Asshole.

“Whose fault is that? If I’m a virgin, so are you.”

I moved down the hall, striding toward my office. Vuk growled—a low, amused rumble.

‘At least I didn’t nearly cum in my pants just from eating her out. You should’ve claimed her properly, not just with your tongue.’

I adjusted my pants, my cock hardening at the sheer memory of her spread across the table. “I made her cum so hard she couldn’t move. Fucking her was the least of my worries.”

‘Anything you say, loser.’

I scoffed. Yeah, definitely jealous. “No need to feel bad, she’s ours.”

‘Ours? Mine.’

My lips curved into a humorless smirk. “Jealousy doesn’t suit your lunatic tag, Vuk.”

He didn’t answer—just cut me off.

That’s what I thought.

Vuk had never been interested in women. Even when we felt the mate bond, he hadn’t reacted—no excitement, no possessiveness.

Stalking Rayna had been our way of clinging to a sliver of control, of convincing ourselves she didn’t reject us because we were unworthy or the curse.

Knowing it was for another man didn’t soothe his ego, though. It fueled his rampage.

But this sudden attraction—the need to claim her as ours—was overwhelming. Blinding.

He grew restless when she wasn’t near, and that’s why he was being such a jackass. He needed her scent to feel grounded.

And everyone knew better than to cross him.

Vuk wasn’t an ordinary wolf, and that “Lunatic” nickname wasn’t just for fun. The fucker had murdered his last human host because they refused to let him join in a mating ceremony.

Lunatic, alright.

“She’s going to want us, Vuk,” I reassured him quietly.

‘What if she runs?’

Fear? Was Vuk afraid of losing Rayna—someone who wasn’t even our mate anymore, who had already rejected us?

“She won’t.” My tone hardened. “And if she does, I’ll go right after her.”

Vuk chuckled darkly. ‘Now you’re starting to sound like me. Took you long enough.’

Yup. A fucking asshole.

I stopped halfway to my desk. A box sat neatly on top of it, wrapped in cream paper and tied with a red ribbon.

I frowned and sniffed the air.

‘Is it a bomb?’

“I don’t know,” I muttered, sniffing again.

Cake?

It wasn’t my birthday… was it? I checked my phone. No festivals, no events.

Why would anyone send me a cake?

‘A bomb stuffed in a cake, you mean.’

I ignored him, carefully unwrapping the box just in case.

Wouldn’t be the first time someone gifted us a time bomb.

I tore off the last bit of wrapping and lifted the lid—

The sweet smell hit first, it wasn't vanilla or even chocolate, maybe velvet?

No, this didn't smell like pastry. Something was off, very off.

A thick copper scent cut through the frosting’s sugary haze.

Blood.

‘That’s not cake,’ he said lowly.

I didn’t need him to tell me that.

Buried in a nest of soft tissue paper was a hand—small, pale, neatly severed at the wrist.

Fingernails painted a soft lilac, a ring on one finger that shimmered under the office light.

A ring I recognized.

“Fuck.” I exhaled, more like a growl than a word.

Vuk rumbled in my skull, restless. ‘Whose hand, Sven?’

I tilted the box toward the light, my jaw clenching. “Mira...”

Vuk hissed, ‘The councilman’s daughter.’

“Yeah.” My tone went flat, the calm before the storm kind of flat.

He chuckled darkly. ‘Someone’s got a death wish.’

I reached out and traced the edge of the wound—it was pretty clean and definitely not a wolf’s bite.

It was a blade, a surgical one at that.

‘You think Ashford?’ Vuk asked, already snarling.

“No,” I murmured. “Ashford’s not that subtle.”

‘Or maybe her little lapdogs. You know how the Arabs love the spotlight.’

“Maybe.” I leaned back, eyes narrowing at the gift like it had personally offended me. “But whoever did this wants me rattled.”

‘Are you?’

I cracked my neck, smiling coldly. “They’ll wish I was.”

I opened the mindlink, my voice low but commanding.

Reeves. Venus, my office now.

Then to Vuk: “We’re going hunting.”

‘About damn time,’ he purred, stretching like a predator about to feed.

If this were the work of the Elders then I had so much in store for them, they wanted a Luna and Trina Ashford was their best bet. Bastards couldn't see how much of a cunning woman she was, and she was fucking loose to begin with.

Not a chance.

The door clicked open within minutes, Reeves walked in first with a lazy smile on his face—venus right behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Reeves asked, scanning the room before his gaze landed on the box. “What the hell is that?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just nudged the box toward him. “Take a look.”

He hesitated, then lifted the lid—and swore. “Holy shit.”

Venus caught the scent, flinching back slightly. “That’s… Mira?”

“Was,” I corrected. “She was moving our product through the border routes. Looks like someone intercepted the shipment—and her.”

Reeves’ eyes flicked up. “Rogues?”

‘How’s he our beta?’

I ignored Vuk’s jab and continued my explanation,

“Rogues don't use knives and they won't be stupid enough to send this to me.” I leaned back against the desk.

Venus frowned. “Then who?”

“Take your pick—either the Arabs are making a comeback or someone inside’s trying to get a rise out of me or both.”

Reeves stiffened. “You think it’s one of ours?”

I met his gaze, unblinking. “I know it is.”

Each pack had their gift, DarkBlood was no different. And scent masking was something we prided ourselves in.

Whoever brought this here, was a part of my staff and pack.

Then I said, calm but lethal, “Start with the kitchen staff and lower guards. Anyone who smells like honey butter—bring them in.”

Venus blinked, confused. “Honey butter?”

“It’s on the box,” I said. “Barely there, but it’s the only trace they couldn’t mask.”

Vuk’s growl vibrated at the edge of my thoughts. ‘Find them, and I’ll do the rest.’

“Yeah,” I muttered. “You’ll get your turn.”

Reeves nodded once, curt and grim. “Understood.”

Venus hesitated, eyes flicking back to the box. “What do we do with it?”

“Leave it,” I said, voice dropping. “I want to look at it a little longer.”

They exchanged a look but didn’t argue.

The door closed behind them, leaving me alone again—with the smell of blood and honey thick in the air.

I stared down at the hand, my jaw tight.

“This was personal,” I whispered.

‘Then make it personal,’ Vuk answered.

Reeves and Venus were already there when I arrived. Two guards stood with them, holding down a boy—barely twenty, trembling so hard the chair rattled under him. His hands were bound, his eyes swollen from crying.

“We found him near the pantry,” Reeves said. “And his scent matched the one on the giftbox”

Venus folded her arms, her tone cool. “He tried to bolt. Twice.”

I stepped closer. The boy flinched, the scent of terror flooding the room. The smell reminded me of weak wine—cheap.

I sat on the edge of the table, casual, the picture of calm. “You brought in a box” I said softly.

“I—I didn’t know what was in it, Alpha,” he stammered. “I swear—”

“Wrong answer.” My tone never rose, but his voice choked off anyway. “You walked into my house. My office. With a severed hand. That wasn’t a mistake. That was suicide.”

‘Rip his throat out,’ Vuk snarled.

Calm the fuck down.

“I— I didn't have a choice.”

He didn't have a choice?

“Tell me, who gave you the box?”

“I don't know. All they asked was if I had seen any black wolves in the area and asked me to give this to you!”

Liar. His scent was over the place, and his heart rate was skyrocketing, not from fear.

My hand shot out, gripping his jaw forcing him to look at me. “Who sent you?”

His breath came in shallow gasps. “The… some… Fuck… I work with the Arabs.”

“There it is. Now was that so hard?”

Reeves’ eyes glowed with dark amusement. “Want me to take it up from here?”

“Bring me his right hand,” I said.

The boy’s head snapped up; the color drained out of him.

One of the guards stepped forward, he produced a butcher knife from his side.

“You will deliver the message now,” I continued cutting him, slowly. “To the Arabs, to anyone who threatens my house with a mutilated gift: this is the price of crossing me.” I tapped the lid of the box with my knuckle. “A hand for a hand.”

I let the sound of the blade ease in the quiet, let the scent of blood fill me.

Reeves moved to take the box. “We’ll send it back with a courier. Make sure the cameras pick up the route.”

Venus’ lips twitched. “I’ll see his family taken care of.”

I nodded once, feeling the wolf in me sharpen. Not mercy. Not brutality for its own sake. Message.

“Where’s Rayna?” I asked the first guard I spotted in the corridor, my voice the calm before a storm.

“She’s in the library, Alpha,” he answered, quick, eyes avoiding mine.

There was only one thing I needed now, her. Vuk hummed approval in the back of my skull. ‘Go to her.’

Before I reached the library doors I stopped and slowed my breathing.

I focused and touched the mind of every guard and staff within hearing distance: ‘Clear the halls, now. Everyone leave the library.’

Everyone scurried out of the library, their feet bad padding through the halls,

When the library doors swung open, she didn’t bother to look up from her book, her eyes fixed on the pages with creased brows.

She smelled like linen and sun. For a beat I forgot about the hand in a box, and everything wrong in my life.

“Rayna,” I said, voice low, the blood on my neck a silent punctuation.

Her eyes widened when they landed on me. “You’re bleeding!”