CHAPTER 2: The Cottage.

The power drain slams into Ivy like a freight train. Her legs barely hold as she stumbles through the doorway of the Moonstone Inn, fingers gripping the frame for support. The place is dead, not closed, dead. Cobwebs covers every corner like abandoned hammocks. Dust particles float through shafts of moonlight, thick enough to see.

A single brass key sits on the counter.

Waiting.

As if someone has placed it there seconds before she arrives.

Her pulse kicks up. “Hello?” Her voice echoes back, empty and alone.

Nothing.

She grabs the key, its metal cold against her palm, and moves deeper into the inn. Each step stirs decades of neglect. The floorboards groan. The air tastes stale, forgotten.

Then the lights flicker.

Not random. Patterns. Three short bursts. Pause. Two long ones.

“Okay, that’s...that’s just old wiring.” Her voice quivers on the lie.

The mirror at the end of the hallway catches her reflection. Except the glass is fogging over, moisture spreading from the center like breath on a winter window. Letters begin forming in the condensation, slow and detailed, spelling something she can’t coherently make out.

Her reflection grins.

Fangs.

Long, curved, predatory fangs where her canines should be.

The shriek tears from her throat before thought can catch up. She stumbles backward, her hip slamming into a side table. When she looks again, the fangs are gone, but her eyes, her eyes are glowing. Amber light pulses where her irises should be, like something demonic is staring back.

“No. No, no, no—”

Her hand finds a heavy candlestick. She hurls it with everything she has. The mirror explodes, glass raining down in a thousand glittering pieces.

She turns to run, but something stops her.

A mark. Pulsing through her blouse like a heartbeat of light. Right over her sternum.

Ivy yanks her collar down, fingers scrambling across her chest. Nothing. Smooth skin. No mark. No glow. But she’s seen it bright as a brand, geometric.

A whisper slithers through the air. Foreign syllables twist her stomach into knots. The language feels old, wrong, like it’s reaching through time itself.

“I’m losing it.” She backs away from the broken mirror, glass crunching under her shoes. “I’m actually losing my mind.”

What she doesn’t know: across the supernatural South, sensors are lighting up. Alarms are triggering. Because of her blast of power, that one impossible surge has painted a target on Mystic Valley that every predator can see.

***

Ivy doesn’t see him appear. One second she is alone, the next, a figure stands in the doorway. Tall. Dark-haired. Those same unsettling eyes from earlier.

Her scream could shatter what’s left of the mirror.

She launches herself into the corner, grabbing the first thing her hands find, an old broom and swings with desperate fury. He catches it mid-swing with one hand. Doesn’t even blink. She kicks. He sidesteps. She tries to jab the handle at his throat. He redirects it with two fingers.

It isn’t even a fight. It’s like watching someone casually swat away a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Are you trying to give me a cardiac arrest?” Ivy gasps, chest heaving.

Kai’s mouth quirks. “Wasn’t my intention.”

“Then maybe don’t appear out of nowhere like some...some—” She can’t finish. Her hands are shaking too hard.

He tilts his head, studying her like she’s an amusing science experiment. “As much as you’ve been fun to watch, I hate to leave.” He tsks, turning his back as if to walk away.

“Wait—” Ivy jumps in front of him, blocking the door. “Please. I’m tired. I just need somewhere to sleep. Somewhere that doesn’t have—” she gestures wildly at the broken mirror, the flickering lights, “—that.”

“Not a tour guide.” His voice is flat, bored.

“Maybe you can direct me to one. I just—”

His hand moves faster than she can track, peeling her fingers off his arm. “Don’t touch me. I don’t like strangers getting handsy.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She pulls back, frustration bleeding into desperation. “I had a plan. I paid an agency for accommodation. They scammed me. Everything I had went into that deposit.” The words tumble out too fast. “Just help me find a place to stay tonight. I’ll be out of your hair by morning. I promise.”

“What’s in it for me?” He crosses his arms. “I don’t do favors for free and your sob story is none of my concern.”

Her mind races, scrambling for leverage she doesn’t have. “I’ll pay you.”

The laugh that erupts from him echoes through the empty inn. Loud, genuine, mocking. “You? Pay me?” He laughs harder. “You couldn’t afford a minute of my time.”

Heat floods her cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” Her voice drops. “I just need somewhere to sleep.”

“You have nothing I want.” He shrugs. “Can’t help.”

This time when he turns, he actually walks. No hesitation. No looking back.

Ivy stays frozen as the shadows in the inn seem to grow teeth. Every corner suddenly feels occupied. Watched. The whispers start again, circling like predators. The broken mirror reflects movement that isn’t there.

Terror claws up her spine.

“Wait!” She bolts after him, bursting through the door into the night. “Please! I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

That stops him.

He turns slowly, and the smirk spreading across his face makes something low in her stomach flip.

“Keep up.” He starts walking. “One night. Just one night.”

***

Her scent is destroying him.

Kai keeps his pace intentionally fast, but every step feels like swimming through honey. His blood runs too hot. His skin feels too tight. Valor is a constant growl in his mind, demanding, claiming, pushing against his control like a beast trying to break its cage.

He’s never wanted anyone before. Not like this. Not with this consuming, irrational need that makes his hands itch to touch, to tear fabric, to mark and claim and—

"Get it together!" Kai yells at Valor.

He leads her through a route that would terrify anyone with sense. Dark streets. Abandoned buildings with boarded windows. Alleys where things move in the shadows. He hears her footsteps quicken behind him, nearly running to keep up, her breathing coming faster.

Then the neighborhood shifts. Lights. Decorated houses. Christmas wreaths on doors, twinkling lights strung across porches. Life. Normal, human life.

“I really thought this place was a desert,” Ivy says, slightly breathless. She's astonished at this new view.

“Most of it is.” Kai doesn’t slow down. “This is what’s left of this beautiful place.”

“What’s left? Meaning there used to be more?”

He shoots her a quick glance. The question is too big for tonight. “You’ll know more soon. But for tonight, that’s enough.”

The house that comes to view looks like a fortress than home. Men patrol the perimeter, their expressions stone-cold. They track Ivy with predatory focus.

She presses against his side without thinking, her fear a tangible thing.

Kai shoves her away like she’s a clingy child. “Personal space.”

He leads her past the main house to a cottage tucked at the property’s edge. Woods loom behind it, dark and deep. He pushes the door open, revealing a single room with basic furniture. Clean but sparse.

Ivy’s face falls. “Is there nowhere… nicer? More habitable?” She looks pointedly at the window facing the forest. “How can I stay in a place overlooking the woods? What if I get attacked by wild animals?”

“Not my problem.” He shrugs. “Lock the doors. The night is dangerous.”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t stay here.”

“I don’t see what’s stopping you from going back where you came from.” He pauses. “Which is where, by the way?”

“Louisiana.” She swallows hard. “I can’t go back to Louisiana tonight.”

“Not my problem.”

He walks out before she can respond, shutting the door on her protests.

Jackson bumps into him from the shadows, falling into step beside him. “Who’s she?”

Kai doesn’t answer. His jaw is locked too tight, fighting the urge to turn around, to go back, to—

“Lock down the valley.” The order comes out harsh. “No outsiders in or out.”

Every second near her has been torture. Holding himself together, acting indifferent, when inside he is furious and shaken and terrified in a way he has never been.

“Was the surge from her?” Jackson’s astonishment bleeds through.

“Yes.”

“If the Hunters felt that surge, they’re already coming.” Jackson’s voice drops. “If the rival pack sensed it, they’ll want to claim her too. And if your father felt it…” He doesn’t need to finish.

Valor snarls in Kai’s mind, demanding he return to the cottage. Protect. Guard. Stay.

But Kai forces his feet forward. Away from her. Because going back, being near her, that could trigger something catastrophic. Another blast. Something worse.

He makes his choice.

And every instinct in him knows he’s walking away from the one thing he should’ve guarded with his life.