Chapter Eight – The Break-In

The night felt different.

Too still. Too quiet.

Adrian’s private wing always had guards posted at both ends of the hallway, but tonight, their usual low murmur of conversation was absent. The silence was so complete it made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

I sat curled in one of the armchairs by the fire, trying to read, but every creak of the old manor pulled my attention away from the page. Adrian hadn’t returned yet from whatever business the Alpha King had dragged him into, and though I’d never admit it out loud, his absence left the room feeling… exposed.

I was halfway to pouring myself a glass of water when it happened.

A faint scrape at the door.

Like metal against wood.

I froze.

It came again — this time followed by a slow, deliberate turn of the handle.

Adrian had been clear: do not open the door for anyone but him.

My pulse pounded as I glanced toward the bed where the wolf pelt still lay inside its box — a silent reminder that whoever had sent it knew exactly where I was.

“Lord Adrian?” I called, my voice tight.

No answer.

The handle turned fully this time, but the lock held. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, the sound of tools clicking inside the mechanism reached my ears. Whoever was out there wasn’t knocking. They were picking the lock.

I backed away, scanning the room for anything I could use as a weapon. My eyes landed on the heavy crystal decanter Adrian had used earlier. I grabbed it, the weight solid in my trembling hands.

The lock clicked.

The door opened an inch.

I raised the decanter, ready to swing — but before I could, the door flew open entirely and a tall figure in black stepped inside, his face obscured by a hood.

“Who—”

He lunged for me.

I swung the decanter hard. It connected with his arm, making him grunt, but it didn’t slow him much. His hand clamped around my wrist, shoving me back against the wall.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice low and unfamiliar.

“And you shouldn’t be alive,” a deeper voice cut in from the doorway.

Adrian.

I’d never seen him like this. His usual composed authority was gone, replaced by something feral, lethal. His eyes locked on the intruder, and in one smooth movement, he had the man by the throat, slamming him into the wall so hard the plaster cracked.

The intruder choked, clawing at Adrian’s grip, but the Alpha King’s father didn’t relent.

“Who sent you?” Adrian’s voice was ice over fire.

The man only wheezed in response. Adrian’s grip tightened.

“I won’t ask again.”

A choked sound escaped the intruder — part laugh, part cough. “She… isn’t yours to keep.”

Adrian’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “She is mine. And anyone who forgets that…” His free hand drew a silver dagger from his belt, pressing it lightly against the man’s side. “…doesn’t live to repeat the mistake.”

My breath caught, but I couldn’t look away.

The man’s gaze flicked toward me — and whatever he saw in Adrian’s expression in that moment made him shudder.

“Tell me,” Adrian demanded again.

The intruder coughed up a name, one I didn’t recognize, before Adrian’s hand moved so fast I barely registered it. The man collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Adrian dropped the dagger onto the table and turned to me.

“Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, still clutching the decanter. “I—no. You got here in time.”

He stepped closer, his hands framing my face for the briefest moment, his thumbs brushing my jaw as if to confirm I was really standing there. “From now on,” he said quietly but with deadly certainty, “you never sleep without me in the room.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

And for the first time, I realized Adrian’s protection wasn’t just about keeping me alive.

It was about keeping me his.