The elevator descended lower than Elara thought possible.
No buttons marked the floors, only a single keyhole Adrian turned with deliberate precision. She stood beside him in silence, feeling the hum of the steel box as it cut into the earth.
"Where are we going?" she asked finally.
"Somewhere no one can touch you," he said, eyes fixed ahead.
The doors opened into darkness. Then, with a flick of his wrist, soft amber light spilled across concrete walls and polished black floors. The air was cooler here, heavier, like the city itself had forgotten this place existed.
It wasn't a basement. It was a fortress.
Long corridors stretched in both directions, lined with steel doors. Cameras hummed quietly in the corners, tracking their movement.
"This is one of your… mafia hideouts?" she asked, her voice echoing faintly.
He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Call it what you want. I call it the place where my enemies disappear."
Her skin prickled. "Comforting."
Adrian stopped at a door and keyed in another code. It slid open to reveal a room — not lavish, but secure. No windows, no exits except the one they'd come through. A king-sized bed dominated the space, flanked by black oak furniture.
Elara stepped inside slowly. "You expect me to sleep here?"
"Yes."
"With you?"
His golden eyes locked on hers. "If I wanted that, you'd already be in the bed, Elara."
Heat rushed to her face, but she forced herself not to look away. "You're insufferable."
"And you're alive because of me," he countered, his tone sharp but quiet. "Don't forget that."
She turned toward the dresser, more to avoid his stare than to inspect the room. "So what happens now? I just stay locked in here until you decide it's safe?"
"You stay locked in here until I say it's safe," he corrected.
Her temper flared, but before she could snap back, the floor trembled — faintly, but enough for her to notice.
"What was that?" she asked, spinning toward him.
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Trouble."
He moved toward the door, but before his hand reached the lock, a loud metallic clang echoed down the corridor. His wolf senses flared — footsteps. Too many.
"Stay here," he ordered.
"I'm not—"
"You are," he growled, the Alpha in his voice hitting her like a physical force. Her chest tightened, her knees almost buckling under the weight of it.
She hated it. Hated how her body responded even as her mind screamed to fight it. "You can't just—"
He was suddenly in front of her, one hand braced against the wall beside her head, the other gripping her chin gently but firmly. His scent — smoke, rain, and something wild — surrounded her.
"You think I like locking you up?" His voice was low, his eyes burning gold in the dim light. "I'd rather have you where I can see you, Elara. But right now, there are wolves in my city that want you dead, and I will kill every single one of them before I let them touch you."
Her breath caught. She could feel the heat of him, the tension in his body. "Why?" she whispered.
His thumb brushed her jaw, slow, almost possessive. "Because you're mine. And because whether you believe it or not, you're not just a human caught in the crossfire."
The words lingered between them, heavy with meaning she didn't understand.
He pulled back abruptly, unlocking the door and stepping into the hall. "Don't move. Don't open this door for anyone but me."
And then he was gone, the lock sliding into place again.
Elara pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat a wild, unsteady drum. She didn't know what scared her more — the danger outside… or the way Adrian Voss made her feel when he was inches away, promising death to anyone who came for her.
Somewhere deep down, something old stirred — something that had been sleeping her whole life.
And the walls between her and the truth were starting to crack.