Chapter Two: The Babysitter

Darkness.

A heavy, endless void. Then voices broke through it.

“Get away from her, Theron! Step back!”

“Hold him down! Inject the sedative now!” Bellamy barked over the rattle of heavy chains. “Talia, clear the perimeter!”

A deep agonizing roar tore through the darkness.

“Her heart stopped, Bellamy!” Devon shouted. “The monster killed her!”

“She’s not dead, Beta,” Bellamy replied sharply. “He pulled back before his fangs broke the skin. A Lycan cannot mark a dead soul.”

Silence.

The voices faded. And darkness swallowed everything once more.

—

The grand onyx briefing room was suffocatingly still.

Prince Bellamy stood at the map table, jaw tight, staring past the far wall as a royal mind-link pulsed behind his temples.

Acheron’s voice crashed into his mind.

‘Hide her if you want, Prince. The moment this sedative leaves my blood, I’ll tear through every border if I have to.’

‘She belongs to me.’

Bellamy severed the connection with a weary sigh and rubbed his temples before looking at the two people waiting across the table.

“Step away from this, Devon.”

His voice echoed through the chamber.

“The King has already issued his order. Once a Lycan’s mate bond awakens, it cannot be undone. Fighting it will only make things worse.”

Devon’s head snapped up. “What?”

His voice exploded across the room. “You’re going to let that monster near my sister after what he did?”

In the corner, Talia pressed herself against the stone wall, tears pooling in her eyes.

“Devon… I’m sorry.” She said, trembling. “I didn’t know the Berserk phase would happen tonight. I swear I—”

“I warned you.” Devon rounded on her. “I told you never to bring my sister across the Vrykanian border.”

His fury thundered through the chamber.

“I forbade this country! I don't even step foot in the royal capital myself unless ordered, and yet you brought a fragile human straight into the middle of a Lycan outbreak.”

His voice broke. “If she dies because of this… I’ll never forgive you.”

Talia’s face crumpled.

Inside her mind, Lyra let out a low, grief-stricken whine.

“Enough.”

Bellamy stepped forward. The air itself seemed to grow heavier. His eyes burned gold.

“Submission, Beta.” His voice dropped into something ancient.

“By the blood of the Alpha line… I command you. Kneel.”

Devon gasped.

Fenrir whimpered helplessly inside him as the royal command crushed every instinct to resist. His knees slammed against the marble floor.

He clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white.

Bellamy’s expression never changed. “The Lycan won’t hurt her.”

He spoke quietly. “She may be the reincarnation of his mate. So why are you resisting?”

Devon’s composure shattered. “Because she’s dying!”

The words echoed through the chamber as he struggled to breathe. “Her heart has been failing for months. She has one year left. Maybe less.”

Silence filled the room.

Talia stared at him. “What…?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Devon, what do you mean she’s dying?”

“That’s why she wanted to come to Vrykania.”

Devon’s eyes filled. “She wanted to finish her bucket list before her heart gave out. She kept pretending she was fine. But she’s not.”

He looked directly at Talia. “And even after I warned you… you still brought her here.”

Talia covered her mouth as tears spilled freely from her eyes.

Lyra mournfully lowered her head.

‘No wonder she was always holding her chest. No wonder she looked so tired.’

Bellamy frowned. “If her heart is truly failing…”

He spoke more to himself than anyone else. “…then why did the mate bond awaken? The ancient bond doesn’t choose a fading soul. It shouldn’t be possible.”

“I don’t care about your mate bond,” Devon growled. “My sister is human. The outside world cannot find out that people like you exist, and I won’t let a Lycan drag her into an early grave.”

“They won’t find out.” Bellamy met his gaze. “I’ll erase the incident from her memory. She’ll remember nothing.”

Devon’s eyes turned bloodshot.

Bellamy met his eyes without flinching. “That’s a direct order, Beta.”

*****

Rhiannon jerked upright with a sharp gasp, her hands flying to her chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart beat steadily beneath her palm. There was no crushing pain or suffocating pressure.

She blinked rapidly, her hazel eyes sweeping across the familiar bedroom in her apartment. She was tucked safely in her cotton sheets.

Everything was exactly where it should have been.

A shaky breath escaped her. She remembered sneaking across the border with Talia. She remembered standing beneath the strange pink moon in the Vrykanian gardens.

After that… nothing. Her mind was completely blank.

Panic stirred inside her. ‘How did I get home?’

The only explanation she could think of made her stomach sink. She must have collapsed from her heart condition. Talia had probably panicked and called Devon.

‘God… he’s going to kill me.’

She groaned under her breath. ‘He caught me red-handed.’

Taking a steadying breath, she climbed out of bed, her legs still slightly unsteady.

She made her way down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen, mentally preparing herself for the lecture she undoubtedly deserved.

Half a dozen defensive excuses were already forming in her mind. But they disappeared the moment she saw Devon.

The front door stood open.

Spread across the dining table were heavy tactical vests, specialized steel blades, and military-grade communication equipment.

Devon stood over an open duffel bag, packing with brisk movements. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles bruising the skin beneath them.

But he looked less like a man returning from work… and more like someone preparing to leave again.

“Devon?” Concern immediately replaced her guilt. “What is all this? Where are you going?”

Devon stiffened. Without missing a beat, he threw a jacket over the weapons, concealing them from view.

“Rhiannon,” his voice completely rough and strained. “I told you. The company’s deploying me to the eastern frontier. An emergency corporate security contract."

Rhiannon stared at him. “Corporate security doesn’t require military-grade body armor.” She snapped, her explosive, stubborn nature flaring.

“You just got back. You promised you’d stay for my senior year. You know I…”

The words caught in her throat. ‘I only have one year left.’

She swallowed them back. Because she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

Devon saw through her hesitation. He saw the quiet acceptance she tried so hard to hide.

A wave of guilt crashed over him More than anything, he wanted to stay. To throw the bag aside and spend whatever time she had left beside her.

Fenrir let out a low, miserable howl inside him.

But he couldn’t. Somewhere beyond the Vrykanian border might lie an ancient cure, an elixir… anything capable of saving her failing heart.

If there was even the smallest chance, he had to take it.

Closing the distance between them, Devon gently rested both hands on her shoulders with a soft gaze.

“I have to go, Rhiannon. It’s not a choice.”

His voice thickened with suppressed emotions as he kissed the top of her head.

“But I’m not leaving you alone. Especially with everything happening near the border.”

Rhiannon folded her arms with a scoff, trying to hide the guilt still lingering from her secret trip.

“I’m twenty-one, Devon. I don’t need a babysitter while you’re off playing soldier.”

“You do.”

A deep unfamiliar voice rolled through the apartment. It carried a quiet authority that seemed to settle over the room.

A strange ache pulsed beneath Rhiannon’s ribs.

She turned to see a man standing in the narrow doorway. He looked completely out of place inside their modest apartment.

An immaculate black suit hugged his broad frame effortlessly. Every detail, from the crisp white shirt beneath to the polished shoes, spoke of impossible wealth and power.

He looked like someone who could buy the entire country with a single signature—and burn it down for fun.

His obsidian eyes settled on her. Unwavering.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, her stomach clenched. ‘Have I seen him before?’

Hidden beneath the high collar of his shirt, concealed from her sight, the black serpent tattoo lay silent against his neck.

Rhiannon took an involuntary step back.

“Rhiannon.” Devon’s voice sounded unusually tight. “This is Theron Vance. An old childhood friend of mine from the city. He’s also the primary benefactor of Blackthorne University this semester.”

Theron didn’t acknowledge the introduction. His attention never left Rhiannon. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly.

His gaze drifted to the small crescent-shaped mole at the base of her neck.

Still unmarked. A possessive instinct stirred inside him.

His jaw tightened for the briefest moment before his expression settled into perfect composure once more.

“A childhood friend?” Rhiannon looked him up and down without the slightest attempt to hide her skepticism.

“He looks less like a friend and more like a corporate shark who wandered into the wrong neighborhood.”

Devon choked on his breath. His heart lurched into his throat.

Nobody spoke to the King like that. Especially not to his face.

Theron didn’t react. A slow smile touched the corner of his mouth.

Within him, Acheron rolled onto his back shamelessly.

'She's perfect,' the beast rumbled. 'Absolutely perfect. Mark her! Mark her!’

‘Quiet.’

Theron stepped forward. The distance between them disappeared.

The scent of dark forest mint and rain settled around Rhiannon, strangely familiar despite the emptiness in her memories.

He stopped close enough that she had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes.

“A corporate shark?” Theron murmured, almost amused. “I’ve been called worse.”

His eyes flashed with a faint streak of violet-gold before the color vanished. He held her gaze for another heartbeat before speaking again.

"Your brother is paying me a very steep price to ensure your safety while he's gone, little bird. So from today onward…”

He leaned closer, his hot breath brushing against her pulse point.

"...you belong to me."