Adrian's world smelled of blood and gunpowder.
The metallic tang hung thick in the air as his men dragged the last surviving intruder into the dim interrogation room.
Elara had obeyed his order to stay in her room… for now. But she hadn't missed the way he glanced over his shoulder as if making sure she was still there. As if she mattered more than the bodies still cooling in the hall.
The prisoner — a man in his late thirties, unshaven, clothes shredded from claws — knelt on the floor, wrists bound behind his back. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with something other than fear.
Adrian leaned against the table, his voice low, dangerous. "You've got five seconds to tell me who sent you before I start taking pieces."
The man chuckled, a dry, bitter sound. "You think you're the only Alpha who'd kill to protect a mate?"
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Three seconds."
"She's not just your mate," the intruder said, his gaze cutting toward the closed steel door at the far end of the hall — the one that led to Elara's room. "She's hers."
Adrian moved before the words even settled, his hand snapping around the man's throat. "Say that name and I will end you."
The man's lips twisted into something like a smile. "Lunar Queen."
Adrian's grip tightened. Bone creaked under his palm.
The man gasped for air, but kept talking. "Your little human isn't human at all. She's the one we've been hunting for since—"
The rest of the sentence was cut off as Adrian slammed his head into the concrete wall with enough force to knock him unconscious.
Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
From behind the steel door, Elara sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She couldn't hear every word — but she'd caught two of them.
Lunar Queen.
Her heart skipped a beat. It meant nothing to her. And yet… it did. A faint, almost imperceptible ache bloomed in her chest at the sound of it, like a memory trying to claw its way back from the dark.
She didn't realize she was holding her breath until Adrian stepped into the room.
He was still shirtless, still smeared with blood — none of it his own. His golden eyes had faded, but there was a storm brewing in them now.
"Pack your things," he said.
She frowned. "Why? What's happening?"
"We're leaving." His tone left no room for argument.
"Is this about that man you—"
"Don't." The single word was sharp enough to cut. "Don't ask me about him. Don't repeat anything you heard."
Her throat went dry. "I only heard two words."
He stepped closer, his gaze locking on hers like a vice. "Then forget them."
She opened her mouth to protest, but something in his expression made her stop. It wasn't just anger. It was fear.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
"You're scaring me, Adrian," she whispered.
His hand came up, cupping her face. "Good. Stay scared. It'll keep you alive."
She shivered at the intensity in his voice. And for the first time since she'd met him, she wondered if the danger wasn't just out there, in the shadows.
Maybe it was in the truth he was keeping from her.