(KAEL'S POV)
The smoke wasn't right.
It was too black, too concentrated. Rising in a single column like someone had poured accelerant and lit a match just to watch it burn.
"Stop here." I didn't wait for the driver to fully brake before I was moving. Door open. Boots hitting pavement. Aria still in my arms because putting her down wasn't an option.
Ashford was out a second later. "Sir, we need to secure the perimeter first—"
"Then secure it. Take four guards, circle the building, find those Omegas." I scanned the street. It was Empty. Too empty for this district at this hour. Someone had cleared it. "I want eyes on every exit. Anyone tries to leave, you stop them."
"And you?"
"I'm getting her somewhere safe."
Aria made a sound against my chest. Not words. Just need and heat and the kind of desperation that made my wolf claw at my control.
Ashford's eyes flicked to her, then back to me. Understanding. "The safe house is two blocks north. I'll have it cleared and secured in five minutes."
"Three."
"Sir—"
"Three minutes, Commander. Then you focus on finding those Omegas." I was already moving. Away from the burning building, away from the smoke that stank of gasoline and intent. "And Ashford? When you find whoever set that fire, I want them alive. Barely."
She didn't argue. Just started barking orders to her team.
The safe house was a reinforced apartment above a closed shop. Council owned, kept for emergencies, accessible only with a key I'd carried since taking the throne and never once needed.
Until now.
The lock turned smooth. Door opened into darkness that smelled like dust and disuse. I kicked it shut behind us, found the lights by memory, flooded the space with harsh fluorescent white.
One room. Bed against the far wall. Tiny kitchen. Bathroom door half open. Windows covered with steel shutters that would stop anything short of a missile.
Perfect.
I set Aria on the bed and she immediately curled into herself, shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
"Kael." My name broken into syllables. "Please. Can't—I can't—"
I knew. Could feel it through the bond. The heat building past the point where words made sense, where anything made sense except the biological imperative screaming through every nerve.
She needed relief. Needed an Alpha. Needed me.
I pulled my shirt over my head. Heard her breath hitch. Watched her eyes track the movement, pupils blown so wide there was barely any color left.
"I'm here." I moved to the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight. "I've got you."
Her eyes found mine and for a second—just a second—there was clarity there. Recognition. Fear mixed with something that looked too much like trust.
"Don't remember," she whispered. "Can't remember how we got here. Why it hurts. Just know I need—" Her hand reached for me, trembling. Fingers spreading like she wanted to touch but couldn't quite make her body cooperate. "Please."
The heat had stolen everything but sensation. Left her adrift in want with no anchor except me.
I caught her hand. Brought it to my mouth. Pressed a kiss to her palm that made her whole body shudder, a visible wave running through her.
"You're safe," I said against her skin. "Nothing's going to hurt you. I promise."
She pulled at my hand, trying to drag me closer. Trying to get what her body screamed for even if her mind couldn't form the words.
I let her pull me down. Let our bodies align. The heat of her burned through the thin fabric of her dress, seared into my skin like a brand.
She was already slick. I could smell it. Could feel the dampness when I slid my hand up her thigh, her skin fever-hot and trembling.
"Kael." A sob caught in her throat. "Please. Hurts so much."
"I know, sweetheart. I know."
I got the dress off her in one smooth motion. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Just bare skin flushed pink with heat, slick with sweat, trembling under my hands.
Beautiful. She was so goddamn beautiful it made something ache in my chest.
I kissed her. Slow. Careful. Trying to ground her, bring her back to herself even though I knew the heat wouldn't let her stay.
She melted into it. A small sound escaped her throat—half whimper, half relief—and her mouth opened under mine, desperate and seeking. Her tongue slid against mine with no hesitation, no shyness, just pure need. Her hands fisted in my hair, nails scraping my scalp hard enough to sting.
I gentled her. Slowed the kiss. Made it about comfort instead of urgency even though every instinct I had screamed to take, claim, mark.
"Shh. I've got you. We're going to go slow."
"Can't." Her voice broke on the word. "Need—need—"
"I know what you need." I kissed down her throat. Felt her pulse hammering under my lips, wild and erratic. "But we're doing this right. Not just taking the edge off. Actually making you feel good. Understood?"
She nodded. Didn't understand. Couldn't. But she trusted me enough to let me lead.
I took my time. Mapped every inch of her skin with my mouth. Found the places that made her gasp—the spot just below her ear, the curve where her neck met her shoulder. Found the spots that made her arch—the inside of her wrist, the soft skin of her inner thigh. Found the touches that turned whimpers into moans—my teeth grazing her collarbone, my tongue circling her nipple before I sucked it into my mouth.
She writhed under me. Her back arching off the bed, head thrown back, mouth open on a silent cry. Hands clutching at the sheets because she'd let go of my hair and now couldn't seem to find purchase on anything.
When I finally slid my fingers inside her, she came apart instantly. Her whole body went rigid, back bowing so sharply I thought something might snap. Her nails raked down my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. A cry tore from her throat—raw and broken and absolutely devastating.
I felt it through the bond. The white-hot pleasure crashing through her, overwhelming everything else.
I worked her through it. Didn't stop. Just kept moving, kept building, curling my fingers inside her until she was gasping my name like a prayer.
"Please. Kael please. Need you. Need—"
I knew what she needed.
Got my pants open. Positioned myself between her thighs. Let her feel how badly I wanted this too, how hard I was just from watching her fall apart.
Her legs wrapped around my waist immediately, trying to pull me in. No patience. No waiting.
"Look at me," I said.
Her eyes opened. Glazed. Lost. But there.
"Stay with me. Just for this. Stay with me."
I pushed inside and her whole body went rigid with pleasure. A sound ripped from her throat—not quite a scream, not quite a moan, something primal and wanting and mine.
Fuck. She was tight and hot and perfect. Taking me like she was made for it. Made for me.
Her eyes rolled back. Mouth falling open on a gasp that turned into a whimper when I was fully seated inside her.
I gave her a second to adjust. Watched her face. Watched the heat-haze start to lift as her body got what it needed, as that desperate edge began to ease.
Then I moved.
Slow at first. Long strokes that made her gasp, made her fingers clutch at me like I was the only solid thing in her world.
Maybe I was.
"That's it," I murmured against her ear. "That's my girl. Taking me so well."
She made a sound—half sob, half moan. Her hips started moving to meet mine, rolling and grinding, trying to get more, deeper, harder.
I gave it to her. Picked up the pace. Let myself stop thinking about politics and councils and traps. Let myself just feel.
The bond between us pulled tight. I could feel her pleasure mixing with mine, feeding back, amplifying until I couldn't tell where I ended and she began.
Her moans got louder. Breathier. Each thrust punching small cries from her throat. Her nails dug into my back, dragging down, marking me the way I couldn't mark her.
"Kael." My name clear this time. Present. Her eyes focusing on mine for just a moment. "Kael I—oh god—I can't—"
"I know. Let go. I've got you."
She shattered. I felt it through the bond before I felt her body clench around me. Felt the wave of pleasure crash through her so intense it dragged me under with it. She screamed—actually screamed—head thrown back, spine arching, every muscle going taut as the orgasm tore through her.
I buried my face in her neck as I came. Teeth scraping the spot where a bite mark would go. Fighting the urge to claim, to mark, to make this permanent.
She deserved better than being marked in a safe house while running from a trap. Deserved courting and choice and all the things I couldn't give her.
So I pulled back. Let my teeth drag over her skin without breaking it. Marked her with my scent instead of my bite.
We lay there breathing hard. Her body still trembling with aftershocks, small whimpers escaping every few seconds. Mine trying to remember how to function when every cell screamed satisfied, mine, perfect.
I pressed kisses to her shoulder. Her neck. Anywhere I could reach. Felt her slowly come back to herself, the tension draining out of her muscles.
"Better?" I asked.
She hummed. Almost purring. Her hands stroking lazy patterns on my back, fingertips tracing the scratches she'd left.
"Don't remember," she murmured. "Don't remember anything except you. Is that bad?"
"No, sweetheart. That's the heat. It'll come back when it passes."
"Don't want it to come back. Just want this."
The words hit harder than they had any right to.
I kissed her temple. Gentle. "Rest. I'll keep watch."
"Don't leave."
"Not going anywhere."
She believed me. I felt it through the bond. That absolute trust that made something in my chest crack open.
This woman was going to destroy me. Was going to make me choose between duty and desire and probably hate me when I chose wrong.
But right now, with her body wrapped around mine and her scent in my lungs, I couldn't make myself care.
The window exploded inward.
I moved on instinct. Rolled. Put myself between Aria and whatever was coming through the shattered glass.
A figure in black landed in a crouch where we'd just been. No mask. I could see his face. Young. Maybe twenty-five. Expression flat.
Professional.
He came at me fast. I barely got my hands up in time to block. The impact sent me stumbling back. Away from Aria. Away from protecting her.
That was the point.
He wasn't here for me. He was here for her.
I lunged. Caught him around the waist. We went down hard. My shoulder slammed into the floor. Pain exploded up my arm but I didn't let go.
He twisted. Got a knee up. Drove it into my ribs hard enough to crack something. White-hot pain bloomed in my chest.
I threw him off. Got to my feet. Naked and bleeding and so far past rational thought my wolf was screaming for blood.
He rolled to his feet. Pulled a blade from somewhere. Long. Wicked. Designed to kill.
Behind me, Aria made a sound. Scared. Confused. The heat had her too far gone to understand what was happening.
"Stay down," I told her.
The attacker moved. Fast. Inhumanly fast.
I blocked the first strike. The blade scored across my forearm. Shallow. Painful. Blood welled immediately, hot and slick. I grabbed his wrist. Squeezed until bones ground together.
He didn't even flinch.
Training. Military grade. This wasn't some random wolf. This was a weapon.
He dropped the knife. Caught it with his other hand mid-fall. Came at me low, aiming for my gut.
I dodged. Barely. Felt the blade whisper past my ribs, close enough that I felt the wind of it.
We were too evenly matched. He was faster. I was stronger. But if this went on much longer, I'd make a mistake. And he'd get to Aria.
Not happening.
I stopped blocking. Stopped defending. Just stepped inside his guard and pressed my palm flat against his chest.
Right over his heart.
Found that connection between human and wolf. That thread that tied the two halves together. The thing that made us whole.
I gripped it. And pulled.
His eyes went wide. Mouth opening in a scream that never came, just a choked gasp as something fundamental was ripped away.
I could feel his wolf thrashing. Fighting. Trying to hold on to what I was taking. Claws digging in, desperate and terrified.
I pulled harder.
The connection severed.
He collapsed. Hit the floor like someone had cut his strings. His whole body convulsing, back arching, hands clawing at his chest like he could reach inside and pull his wolf back.
I'd torn half his soul away. Left him hollow. Just a human with no instincts, no strength, no wolf.
It would come back. In a few minutes the connection would snap back into place and he'd be whole again.
But right now he was nothing.
I stepped over him. Went to Aria. She was curled on the bed, eyes wide, clutching the sheet to her chest.
"You're okay," I said. Gentle. "You're safe."
"What—what did you—" She was staring at the man on the floor. At the way he was convulsing, gasping for air like he'd been drowning.
"I stopped him. That's all."
The door crashed open. Ashford and four guards, weapons drawn, eyes sweeping the room for threats.
They saw me. Saw Aria. Saw the attacker on the floor and the broken window and the blood running down my arm.
"Secure him," I ordered. "I want him in interrogation the second he can form words."
Two guards moved forward. Hauled the attacker to his feet. He was still shaking. Still gasping. But his eyes were clearing, his wolf starting to claw its way back.
"The building?" I asked Ashford.
"Total loss. No bodies inside. No sign of the Omegas." Her expression was grim. "Sir, this was a setup. The fire was deliberately set to draw us here. And while we were busy—"
"Someone sent an assassin." I looked at the man being dragged toward the door. "Did he talk?"
"Not yet. But he will."
She left. Taking the guards and the attacker with her.
The door closed. Lock engaged.
Just us again. Me and Aria in a safe house that clearly wasn't safe anymore.
She was staring at me. At the blood running down my arm, dripping onto the floor. At the bruises already blooming purple on my ribs.
"What did you do to him?" Her voice was small. "I felt—I felt you do something. Felt it through the bond."
I could lie. This power wasn't something I talked about. Wasn't something anyone needed to know I could do.
But she deserved the truth.
"I can sever the connection between a wolf and their animal. Temporarily." I stopped. Tried to find words that wouldn't make it sound as bad as it was. "It's something I was born with."
"You tore his wolf away from him."
"Yes."
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Good."
The word surprised me.
"He tried to kill you," she said. "Or take me. Or both." Her hand reached for me. Still shaking but steadier now. "I don't care if it hurt him. I care that you're bleeding."
I looked down. The cut on my arm was deeper than I'd thought. Blood running down to drip off my fingers, pooling on the floor.
"It's not bad."
"Liar."
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
She pulled me down to the bed. Made me sit. Disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a first aid kit that had probably been there since the safe house was built.
Her hands were gentle on my arm. Cleaning the wound with careful touches that still stung. Bandaging it with practiced precision.
"You've done this before," I said.
"My mother was a healer. Before she died." She taped the bandage down. "There. Not perfect but it'll hold until we get back."
"Thank you."
She looked up at me. Really looked. And for a second the heat-haze was gone. She was present. Clear. Seeing me.
"They're trying to separate us," she said. "Whoever set this up. Whoever sent that assassin. They want you to have to choose between protecting me and doing your job."
"I know."
"So what are we going to do?"
I pulled her close. Let her curl into my chest. Felt her heartbeat against mine, still too fast but steadying.
"We stop playing their game."
"How?"
Through the shattered window, I could hear sirens. Voices. The northern district waking up to fire and chaos and whatever else had been set in motion tonight.
Three Omegas. Gone. A building burned. An assassin sent.
All of it designed to force my hand. Make me choose. Prove I was unfit to rule.
But they'd made a mistake.