THORNE POV
"Your husband," I say, watching Celestria's violet eyes go wide with shock, "has killed three Lunas in the past eight years. You're number four."
She stares at me like I just spoke a foreign language. "What?"
I slide the folder closer. "Open it. See for yourself."
Her hands shake as she reaches for the folder, and something twists in my chest. She's terrified. Confused. And so damn beautiful it's making my wolf pace restlessly.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Six hours ago, I was sitting in my office at Nightfall Pack headquarters, reviewing boring territory contracts and trying not to think about how empty my life had become.
Then my phone rang.
The number made me freeze. I hadn't seen it in five years. Not since I walked away from that life and built Nightfall into something legitimate. Something I could be proud of.
Crimson Veil.
I almost didn't answer. Should've let it go to voicemail. Should've deleted the number years ago.
But curiosity won, like it always does.
"Madame Rouge," I said, leaning back in my chair. "I thought we agreed—"
"I know, darling." Her voice was smooth as silk, dangerous as poison. "You're retired. You've gone legitimate. You're a respectable Alpha now. But I have a request that's... unusual."
"I don't do requests anymore."
"Not even for someone who desperately needs help?"
I closed my eyes. Madame Rouge knew exactly how to play me. For all the years I worked for Crimson Veil—doing what I needed to survive after my pack was slaughtered—she never once asked me to do something that felt wrong.
Every client was willing. Every transaction was clean. And she protected me as fiercely as I protected her business.
"What kind of help?" I asked, already knowing I'd regret this.
"A client. Female. Luna of a major Eastern pack. Her husband suggested an open marriage after years of cheating on her openly. She wants... revenge, I suppose. Or perhaps just to feel wanted for once."
My wolf perked up with interest. A Luna being mistreated wasn't unusual—I'd seen it before. But something in Madame Rouge's tone suggested this was different.
"What makes her unusual?" I asked.
"She cried when she called." Madame Rouge's voice softened. "She apologized for taking up my time. She asked if the man I sent would judge her for being desperate. Thorne, this isn't a woman looking for thrills. This is a woman who's been broken and is trying to remember how to feel whole."
Damn it.
I knew I should say no. I'd left that life behind. Nightfall Pack was thriving. I didn't need the money. Didn't need the complications.
But the image of a crying Luna, apologizing for wanting to feel wanted, made something crack in my carefully controlled walls.
"What's her situation?" I heard myself ask.
"Cheating husband. Six years of public humiliation. He parades his mistresses through their home. Recently suggested they open their marriage so he can legitimize his affairs. She's never done anything like this before. She needs gentleness. Patience. Someone who won't make her feel like she's just another transaction."
My jaw clenched. What kind of bastard treats his mate like that?
"Who's the husband?"
"I can't tell you that. Client confidentiality. But Thorne... she needs someone who'll make her feel safe. You were always the best at that."
I stood up, walking to my office window. Outside, my pack members were training. Laughing. Living lives they'd never have had if I hadn't built Nightfall from nothing.
I'd done terrible things to get here. Things I wasn't proud of. But I'd also helped people. Given them second chances. Protected the vulnerable.
Maybe I could do it one more time.
"I'll do it," I said. "But Madame—this is the last time. After this, we're done."
"Of course, darling. Tomorrow night. The Meridian Hotel, suite 2847. Eight PM."
She hung up, and I stood there wondering why the hell I'd agreed.
Now, watching Celestria's face go pale as she reads the file in front of her, I know exactly why.
Because my wolf recognized something in Madame Rouge's description. Something that called to every protective instinct I have.
A woman who needed saving, even if she didn't know it yet.
"This can't be real," Celestria whispers, her finger tracing over the first page. "Dorian's first wife... died in childbirth?"
"That's what the official report says. But look at the autopsy."
She flips the page, and I watch her face change from disbelief to horror.
"Wolfsbane poisoning," she reads aloud. "But they ruled it as... complications from delivery?"
"Because Dorian's family paid off the medical examiner. Keep reading."
She does. Page after page. Three dead Lunas. All young. All healthy before they mated Dorian. All dead within six years of marriage.
"Wife number two: fell down the stairs. Autopsy shows she was pushed. Wife number three: allergic reaction. Except she wasn't allergic to anything until someone started slipping allergens into her food."
Celestria's hands shake so badly the papers rustle. "Why would he... why would anyone..."
"Money," I say flatly. "Each Luna brought a substantial dowry. Each death allowed him to keep it and marry again. You're Luna number four, Celestria. And if my sources are correct, he's already preparing your 'accident.'"
She looks up at me, violet eyes swimming with tears. "How do you know all this?"
"Because I've been investigating Dorian Quillan for three years. Ever since my informant told me he was planning to kill his third wife."
"Then why didn't you stop him?" Her voice breaks. "Why didn't you save her?"
The accusation stings because she's right. I tried. I sent warnings. I contacted the Alpha Council. But without proof, they wouldn't move against a wealthy, connected Alpha.
By the time I gathered enough evidence, she was already dead.
"I failed her," I say quietly. "I won't fail you."
"But you didn't even know me until—" She stops, her eyes going wide. "Wait. The Crimson Veil appointment. That was you?"
I nod. "Madame Rouge called me this afternoon. Described her client. The moment she said 'Luna' and 'cheating husband,' I knew it had to be you. So I agreed to take the job."
"Why?"
"Because I've been trying to get close to you for months. To warn you. To get you away from Dorian before he kills you like he killed the others. But you're watched constantly. Guarded. The packhouse is locked down tight. This was my chance."
Celestria stands up so fast the booth shakes. "So this whole thing—the mysterious texts, the burner phone, bringing me here—it was all just a setup to get me to listen to you?"
"Yes."
"And tomorrow night? The hotel?" Her voice rises. "Were you actually going to go through with it? Sleep with me as part of some rescue mission?"
I stand too, meeting her angry gaze. "Yes. If that's what it took to get you to trust me enough to hear the truth."
She slaps me.
The crack echoes through the club. Several wolves turn to look, but one glare from me sends them back to their conversations.
My cheek stings, but I don't move. Don't react.
I deserve that and more.
"You manipulative bastard," Celestria hisses. "You've been stalking me, breaking into my room, sending creepy texts—all to what? Play hero? Make yourself feel better about failing the last woman?"
"To save your life," I say quietly. "Even if you hate me for it."
She laughs, but it's bitter. Broken. "You want to save me? Fine. Prove Dorian's a killer. Get him arrested. But don't you dare pretend you care about me when you were planning to sleep with me as part of some investigation."
She grabs her purse and pushes past me toward the stairs.
"Celestria, wait—"
"No." She spins around, tears streaming down her face. "I came here thinking someone finally saw me as more than Dorian's unwanted wife. But you're just using me too. Everyone uses me."
She runs up the stairs and disappears.
I start to follow, but Kyver blocks my path. "Let her go, brother. You screwed this up. Give her space."
He's right. But my wolf is howling, demanding I chase her. Protect her.
"She's going back to him," I growl. "Dorian will know she left the packhouse. He'll punish her—"
"Then we intervene. But stalking her more isn't the answer."
I pull out my phone, checking the tracker I planted in the burner phone I gave her.
She's driving fast. Too fast. Heading back toward Quillan territory.
Then her signal stops.
Right at the border between territories.
My blood goes cold.
"She stopped moving," I tell Kyver. "Right at the border."
"Maybe she's just—"
My phone buzzes. Unknown number.
I answer. "Hello?"
Heavy breathing. Then Dorian's voice, smooth and deadly: "Hello, Thorne. Thank you for leading my wife right into my trap. I've been waiting for her to slip up. Now tell me—how much did you really think you could investigate me before I noticed?"
The line goes dead.
And I know with absolute certainty: Celestria just walked into an ambush.