ADRIAN'S POV
My wolf roars to the surface as another howl echoes through the building. Every instinct screams at me to shift fully, to protect our mate, to fight whatever's coming up those stairs.
But I can't. Not with Ella watching me with terror in her eyes.
"Adrian?" Her voice shakes. "What do we do?"
I force myself to think past the wolf's rage. The emergency lights flash on, casting everything in red shadows. Through the darkness, I hear footsteps—multiple sets, moving fast, coming up the stairs because the elevators are dead.
"The window," I say, taking her hand. "We're forty floors up, but there's a fire escape—"
"You want me to climb down forty floors in the dark?"
"I want you alive." I pull her toward the window, then freeze.
Three figures step out of the darkness in the hallway outside my office. I can see them through the glass walls—tall, muscular, moving with the inhuman ease of predators. Their eyes glow in the emergency lights. Gold. Red. Green.
Shifters. But not my pack.
"Too late," I mutter.
The lead figure—a huge man with gold eyes—punches through the glass door like it's made of paper. Shards explode inward. Ella screams. I shove her behind me as all three hunters step into my office.
"Adrian Wolfe," the boss says. His voice is rough, like he's halfway to changing. "The Council sends its regards."
"Marcus doesn't send assassins for routine inspections," I growl back.
"Who said anything about routine?" He smiles, showing too many teeth. "We're here for the person. Hand her over, and maybe you get to keep living."
My wolf pushes so hard I feel my bones start to crack. "You'll have to kill me first."
"That can be arranged."
They attack as one.
The first one comes at me—bear shifter, massive and strong. I dodge, grab his arm, and use his speed to throw him into my desk. Wood splinters. The computer crashes to the floor.
The second attacker—wolf like me—goes straight for Ella.
"NO!" My wolf takes over completely. I shift in a burst of painful transformation—bones breaking and reforming, fur growing, muscles expanding. My clothes shred. Within three seconds, I'm a huge silver wolf standing between the attacker and my mate.
I catch the enemy wolf by the throat before he reaches her. We crash into the file cabinets, metal crumpling under our combined weight. He tries to break free. My lips tighten. He goes still, obeying.
"Adrian!" Ella's scream spins me around.
The third attacker—a red-eyed fox shifter—has grabbed her. One hand covers her mouth. The other holds a knife to her throat.
"Shift back, Alpha," the fox says quietly. "Or I open her neck."
My wolf howls with rage, but I force the change back. Bones crack. Fur recedes. Within seconds, I'm human again, naked and exposed, but I don't care about modesty. Only Ella counts.
"Let her go," I say, voice raw from shifting.
"Can't do that." The fox's knife presses harder. A thin line of blood shows on Ella's throat. "Our orders are clear. The human dies. You can either let it happen easy, or we make you watch her suffer first."
Ella's eyes meet mine. She's frightened, but I see something else there too—fury. This woman who spent three years surviving my abuse isn't going to die quietly.
She proves it by slamming her heel down on the fox's foot, then throwing her head back into his nose. The knife wavers. I move.
I cross the space in half a heartbeat, grab the fox's wrist, and twist until bones snap. He screams. The knife clatters away. I punch him once—hard enough to send him crashing through the already-broken door into the hallway.
The bear shifter is getting back up. The wolf I choked is healing. We're overwhelmed, I'm naked, and Ella's bleeding.
"Can you run?" I ask her.
"Can you find pants?"
Despite everything, I almost laugh. "My Beta keeps emergency clothes in the supply room. Thirty seconds."
"We don't have thirty seconds!"
She's right. The enemies are regrouping. More footsteps echo from the stairwell—reinforcements coming.
Then I hear the most beautiful sound in the world: my pack's answering howl.
David crashes through the window—actually through it, glass shattering everywhere—in full wolf form. He's massive, dark brown hair bristling, eyes blazing gold. He lands between us and the attackers, growling.
Three more of my pack follow through the door—Sam, Rachel, and Tommy, all in fighting form. The odds just changed.
"Get her out!" David's voice is barely human, warped by his partial shift. "We'll handle this!"
I don't fight. I grab a throw blanket from my wrecked couch, wrap it around my waist, and pull Ella toward the private elevator—the one keyed to my fingerprint that should still have emergency power.
Behind us, the fight explodes into savage violence. Snarls, screams, the sound of skin tearing. Ella slips. I catch her, practically carrying her as we run.
"Your neck," I say, seeing the blood.
"Barely a scratch. Keep moving."
The elevator doors open. We fall inside. I slam my hand on the garage level button. As the doors close, I see David take down the bear shifter while Rachel and Tommy tag-team the enemy wolf.
Then we're falling, and I can finally breathe.
"Your pack," Ella says. "They came for you."
"They came for both of us." I examine her throat. The cut is small but still bleeding. My wolf whines, hating that our mate is hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you're in this mess."
"You keep apologizing." She touches my face, and I realize I'm shaking. "But you just fought three killers naked to protect me. So maybe save the apologies and explain what the hell is happening."
The elevator jerks to a stop. Wrong floor—we're only on the thirty-fifth level, not the garage.
"That's not right," I say.
The doors open.
Marcus Steele stands in the hallway, surrounded by six Council guards in full tactical gear. He's older than me—late thirties—with the kind of cold, dead eyes that come from killing without guilt. Bear shifter. Massive. Dangerous.
The same man who killed my parents while I watched.
"Hello, Adrian," he says cheerfully. "Going somewhere?"
I push Ella behind me again, though we both know it's useless. We're stuck in an elevator with nowhere to run.
"This is an illegal attack on an Alpha's territory," I say, voice steady despite my fear. "The Council will—"
"The Council authorized this operation." Marcus pulls out a tablet, shows me an official paper with the Council seal. "Anonymous tip came in this morning about a Seattle Alpha harboring a human who found our kind. We're here to examine and, if necessary, eliminate the threat."
"She's my mate."
"Then you'll both die together. How romantic."
The guards raise their weapons—not guns, but dart guns filled with wolfsbane poison. One hit will stop a shifter for hours. Two will kill.
Ella grabs my hand. Her hand is sweaty but her grip is strong.
"I'm sorry," I say to her. "For all of it."
"Adrian Wolfe." Marcus laughs. "You're under arrest for treason against the Council. You and your human mate will be taken to Council headquarters for trial and execution. You have the right to—"
The building shakes.
Not from another attack. From below us. Like something huge just hit the foundation.
Marcus frowns. "What—"
The lights die fully. Red emergency lights don't even blink on this time. Total darkness except for the guards' flashlights.
Then I smell it. Something old. Something strong. Something that makes my wolf cower in instinctive fear.
"Oh no," Marcus says, and for the first time, I hear fear in his voice. "They're early."
"Who's early?" Ella asks.
A new voice answers from the darkness behind Marcus—female, pleased, and ancient beyond measure.
"The Forgotten Ones," she says. "We've come to collect what belongs to us."
Light grows in the hallway—not electric light, but something glowing from the woman's hands. Purple power crackles around her fingers.
She looks human. Young, maybe twenty-five, with silver hair and violet eyes exactly like— I look at Ella. At her violet eyes. At the silver roots showing under her brown dye job.
"Oh no," I breathe.
The woman smiles. "Hello, cousin. We've been looking for you."