Kade Blackthorn
The first thing I register upon waking is warmth—soft, feminine, and unfamiliar.
I open my eyes to the dim glow of morning slipping through the heavy drapes, illuminating the tangled sheets beside me. The woman lying there is still lost in sleep, her body curled against the space I've already begun to distance myself from. Dark hair sprawls across my pillows, her bare skin littered with faint bruises from the night before.
I don't remember her name.
I never do.
With a slow exhale, I sit up, dragging a hand through my hair. The air is thick with the scent of perfume, liquor, and sweat—cloying, suffocating. The momentary pleasure of the night has long since faded, leaving nothing but annoyance in its wake.
I rise without a sound, dressing with practiced efficiency. Black slacks, crisp button-up. The movements are routine, methodical, lacking care. I don't spare her a glance as I cross the room, opening the door to find a waiting servant standing stiffly in the hall.
"Wake her," I say coolly, adjusting the cuffs of my sleeves. "Tell her to leave."
The servant hesitates. "And if she refuses, Alpha?"
My lips curl into something that isn't quite a smile. "Make sure she doesn't."
The message is clear. There is no room for arguments or second chances. Women like her come and go—they always do. But none of them ever stay.
"And," I add, before stepping past him, "she is never to have access to me again."
The servant bows. "Understood."
I don't bother listening for the commotion that follows. I'm already walking away, heading toward my master bedroom, where the scent of someone else doesn't cling to the sheets, where my space remains untouched by meaningless entanglements.
Where I can breathe.
The hot water pelts against my skin, steam curling around me as I brace both hands against the shower wall. My head throbs faintly, a side effect of last night's excess, but it's nothing I can't shake off.
Minutes later, I emerge, toweling myself dry before slipping into a fresh, dark suit. The reflection in the mirror is sharp, unreadable—exactly as it should be.
By the time I make it to my office, my Beta is already waiting.
I don't like the way he looks—tense, shoulders coiled tight, his usual air of confidence frayed at the edges.
I sit behind my desk, leveling him with a stare. "Speak."
He hesitates, then exhales. "It's about Lilith."
I go still.
The irritation lingering from the morning evaporates, replaced with a different kind of tension—one I don't immediately acknowledge.
"What about her?" I ask, voice carefully neutral.
"She was seen talking to Kora Laurent."
I frown. That's…unexpected.
Kora isn't someone Lilith should be wasting her time on. The woman is a snake, dangerous in her own right, but not my immediate concern. If anything, she's more of a nuisance, a loose thread that should have been cut long ago.
And yet—
"She's also been speaking with Damon Volkova."
That gets my full attention.
A slow, simmering heat unfurls in my chest, curling around my ribs. I lean back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the polished wood.
"So she's speaking with Damon," I murmur, more to myself than to him.
My Beta shifts uncomfortably. "I don't know what they talked about."
It doesn't matter.
Lilith and Damon in the same space is a problem. A war waiting to happen.
The smart thing to do would be to focus on Kora. She's the real danger. But my mind fixates on Lilith and Damon instead, the thought of them in whispered conversation setting my blood on edge.
A slow smirk tugs at my lips, though there's nothing remotely amused about it.
"Damon always had a bad habit of touching things that don't belong to him," I muse, reaching for my phone.
My Beta watches as I scroll through my contacts, stopping at Volkova's name.
"Before I make this call," I say, glancing at him, "how is our other matter coming along?"
His shoulders straighten. "It's being handled, Alpha."
"Good."
Then I press dial.
The line rings twice before Damon picks up.
"Kade," he greets, his tone slow, almost amused. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I don't bother with pleasantries. "Stay away from Lilith."
A pause. Then a low, dangerous chuckle. "That's cute. You think you have the authority to tell me what to do?"
"I have every authority." My voice sharpens. "Lilith is mine."
There's a shift in the air, a crackle of something dark and lethal.
"Is she?" Damon muses. "Because from where I'm standing, she doesn't seem too interested in playing your little games anymore."
My jaw tightens. "Consider this your only warning, Volkova."
He exhales a slow breath, then says, "You really should be more worried about Kora."
I stiffen.
"I don't need you to tell me where my priorities should lie."
"No, you don't," Damon agrees. "Which is why it'll be so much more entertaining when they crush you underfoot."
I grip the phone tighter. "Watch yourself."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm watching plenty." A pause, then, "In fact, I think I'll make things easier for you."
Something shifts in his tone, something final.
"Lilith will be mine," he says, low and certain. "And when I make her my Luna, I'll help her destroy you."
The line goes dead.
I lower the phone slowly, my entire body coiled tight with rage.
Damon. That bastard.
My Beta watches me carefully, awaiting instruction.
I exhale through my nose, reigning in the fury boiling beneath my skin. Not yet.
But soon.
I set the phone down with precise, measured control.
"Find out everything Lilith and Damon talked about," I order. "And bring me options."
He bows his head. "Yes, Alpha."
As he turns to leave, I stare down at the desk, my mind already calculating the next move.
Damon thinks he can take Lilith from me.
He's wrong.
The moment my Beta steps out, I stand, pacing to the wide floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking my territory. The Ironclad Pack may boast strength, but I am the Blackthorn Alpha—ruthless, undisputed, the only one truly fit to reign.
And yet, the pieces on the board are shifting.
Damon's threat lingers in my mind like a slow-burning ember. Lilith will be mine… and when I make her my Luna, I'll help her destroy you.
I grit my teeth. The arrogance. The audacity.
Lilith is mine. Even if she denies it. Even if she fights it. I have spent years weaving the threads of my claim, and I will not let a bastard like Volkova rip them apart.
The thought of him near her—talking, scheming, breathing the same air as her—sends something ugly curling in my gut. It is more than possessiveness. It is something deeper. Something primal.
I drag a hand through my hair, forcing myself to focus.
Damon is a problem, yes. But he is not the only problem.
I turn back to my desk, pressing the intercom button. "Send in Tennyson."
Minutes later, my Head Enforcer steps inside. A towering figure with jagged scars running down his arms, Tennyson bows his head slightly. "Alpha."
I wave him to sit. "I need you to look into something."
His sharp eyes glint with interest. "What are we dealing with?"
I lean forward, fingers steepled. "Kora Laurent."
A flicker of recognition crosses his face. "She's been on the periphery for years, but we've never acted. You want that to change?"
"I want every detail on her movements. Who she meets. Where she goes. Most importantly, I want to know exactly what she and Lilith spoke about." My voice is cool, measured. "I don't care what it takes."
Tennyson nods. "Understood."
"Good. I'll expect a report by nightfall."
He stands, offering a quick bow before exiting, leaving me alone once again.
For a long moment, I remain seated, the weight of the morning pressing against my ribs.
I should be more worried about Kora. My Beta and even Volkova hinted at it. But my mind keeps circling back to her.
Lilith Luna Dusk.
She has always been an enigma. A storm wrapped in silk. The one woman who never cowered, never played the part expected of her. When I marked her as mine, I did so knowing she would challenge me. But I never anticipated this—a battlefield where I am not just fighting for dominance but for something far more dangerous.
I reach for a tumbler, pouring myself a drink. The amber liquid burns down my throat, but it does nothing to soothe the irritation clawing at my chest.
Lilith thinks she can walk away from me.
She thinks she has a choice.
Damon believes he can claim what belongs to me.
They are both wrong.
And I will remind them soon enough.