Three Days. Eight years.

Three days earlier

“Which halfblood?” I asked, my eyes fixed on Henrietta’s chestnut gaze. My grip tightened on her arms. Fear clouded her expression, chased quickly by regret, as though she already knew she should not have told me sooner what she’d heard Jaigan discuss.

She sneered, tossing her head back in a brittle laugh.

“Which one do you think? I heard Jaigan tell Primus to make sure your sweet, precious halfblood dies before the day is over. He even gave Primus his best hellhounds. All for one stupid little...” She faltered when she saw me reach for my jacket and keys.

“What are you doing? Luke? Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of saving her.” She moved to block my path, her smaller frame braced against me. Her hand caught my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes. I peeled her hand away.

“I swore an oath to the Magistrate to protect the last Regalia and that’s what I’m doing.”

“No! Don’t you understand? You need to let her die and you’ll be severed from her. It will hurt, yes, but you’ll be free, free from having a pathetic human as your mate. Then we can be together.”

“I thought you wanted her dead after what her family did to yours. Are you really that stupid?”

My bloodshot eyes met hers, and I stepped forward until her back pressed against the door.

“I tolerate you because of what we used to have, but that ended long ago. Don’t mistake my patience for anything more.” My voice was low, sharp. “You’re here because you had intel. Nothing else. There is no ‘us.’ There never was. I may not care for the human, but she is the only one I have imprinted on. If the Magistrate wants Joyce Regalia alive, then she lives. Do you understand?”

Henrietta flinched at my words. She knew I meant them.

“If you save her, Jaigan will come for you! He’ll kill you! Why are you doing this?” Her voice cracked, almost breaking into frustrated tears.

“Jaigan has been breaking commandments since he took power over the former Regalia clan. He slaughtered an entire family, even though it’s against the Fourth Commandment. If he kills the girl, he’ll grow stronger, prouder. And then he’ll come for the Elderman clan.”

“You don’t know that. He’s power-hungry, not insane.”

“There were seven pregnant women in the family he wiped out. The Reeds. They had strong betas. Two hellhounds. None of it stopped him. He is insane.”

“Saving her will make him even more mad. Please, Luke. Don’t do this.”

I didn’t reply. I turned and left, shutting the door behind me.

---

(The human world)

Her scent struck me the instant I stepped into the human world.

Their world was loud. Unbalanced. Discordant. Yet even through the chaos, I could smell her. I could feel her.

Eight years ago, Christopher had come to me after his wife’s death. Joyce was nineteen then.

“You’re the only one I can trust to protect her. Jaigan had her mother murdered,” he told me in a restaurant in Paris.

“I’m sorry,” I’d said. I wasn’t. His wife’s death stirred nothing in me.

“Jaigan will come for Joyce, and when he does, he’ll come for your family too. You know that I’m right.”

“Protect your daughter, and I’ll protect my family.”

“She’s your mate. Marry her. Show Jaigan you’re not afraid. Threaten his position.”

“You’re desperate.”

“And you hate him. You hate how he twists the law, how even the Magistrate fears him. You hate what he did to the Reeds. Help me protect my daughter. I beg you.”

His plea still echoed faintly. I hadn’t agreed, but I hadn’t refused. Marrying a halfblood was the last thing I wanted. No one would accept it. Not the elders, not our partners and not even my father. They were all relieved when Christopher took her to the human world  when she was little. 

Now I stood outside the address he’d given me. Joyce stepped out, waved to a neighbor, and slid into her car.

She was taller now. Stronger. No longer the newborn I’d imprinted on or the seven-year-old who called me Mr. Luke. Her eyes were still that dangerous green. Her lips still carried the flush of her cheeks. Her hair reached her waist, a fiery red as before, refusing to be tamed. She was a woman now. 

My woman.

Something inside me shifted, restless, unwilling to be apart from her.

I followed her to the restaurant where she worked. I was about to turn away, certain Henrietta had lied, when I caught the scent of two werewolves.

I dismissed it at first. They had a right to be here. Henrietta had said Jaigan sent hellhounds, not wolves. But in a twinkle of an eye, her car flipped somersaulting down toward the river.

I was seconds away, but that was enough. I tore off my shirt and shifted before they reached her.

Four hellhounds circled the wreck, waiting for her car to explode with flames for for her to crawl out. Neither happened. She was trapped inside, still dodging their lunges.

I sank my teeth into one, ripping across its torso. It screamed. The others circled, then froze when they recognized me. Elderman. They scattered—Jaigan’s madness didn’t reach that far.

“Joyce!” a voice shouted desperately.

Christopher.

He was scrambling down the slope toward the wreck.

He glanced at me once, a silent nod of thanks, before tearing the door open and dragging his daughter free. He held her, murmuring that she would be alright.

I wanted to be the one to tell her that. But I stood still, cold as ever, reminding myself I flet nothing for Joyce Regalia.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.