Damien’s POV 1


    After our intense encounter in the car, Sera had copsed against me, her breathing evening out into the deep rhythm of exhausted sleep. The drug,bined with everything she’d been through tonight, had finally imed her consciousness. I held her for a long moment, watching the peaceful expression on her face, before carefully adjusting her torn dress and starting the car.


    My wolf was restless, pacing anxiously in my mind. *She needs to be somewhere safe,* Alex insisted. *Home. She needs to be home.*


    The problem was, I realized with growing frustration, I had no idea where home was for her. I’d hired her, worked beside her for days,


    imed her as my mate, and yet I didn’t even know her address. The realization sat like a stone in my chest, highlighting just how much I


    still didn’t know about the woman who had turned my world upside down. 2


    I pulled over and dialed ire’s number, knowing she’d still be awake despite thete hour. She picked up on the second ring.


    “Damien? Is everything alright? How did the dinner go?”


    “ire, I need Seraphina’s home address. Now.”


    There was a pause. “What happened? Is she hurt?”


    “She’s fine,” I said quickly, though the memory of finding her drugged and helpless in that bastard’s house made my hands clench on the


    steering wheel. “I just need to get her home safely.”


    “I see.” ire’s voice carried that particr tone she used when she suspected there was far more to the story than I was telling her.


    “She lives at 47 Maple Street, apartment 2B. It’s in the Riverside district.”


    The Riverside district. I knew the area-older buildings, working-ss neighborhood, the kind of ce where people minded their own


    business and rent was cheap because the buildings hadn’t been updated since the 1970s. It was a twenty-minute drive from the glittering


    towers of the business district where I lived.


    “Thank you,” I said simply.


    Twenty minutester, I was standing outside a narrow brick building that looked like it had seen better decades. The neighborhood was


    quiet, with streetlights casting pools of yellow light on cracked sidewalks. A few cars lined the street-older models.


    I gathered Sera carefully in my arms, noting how her emerald dress-now wrinkled and torn from the evening’s events-caught the


    streetlight. She stirred slightly as I lifted her but didn’t wake, her head falling naturally against my shoulder.


    The building’s front door was secured with an old-fashioned buzzer system. I found the button for 2B and pressed it, waiting in the cool


    night air as footsteps echoed from somewhere above.


    The door opened to reveal a young woman with dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweater that suggested she’d been waiting up for Sera’s return. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of me-a stranger in an expensive suit holding her unconscious friend.


    “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, stepping protectively into the doorway despite being barely five and a half feet tall. “And what did


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    you do to Sera?”


    “I’m Damien Nightshadow,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake Sera. “Seraphina’s… employer. Are you Ophelia?”


    The woman’s mouth fell open, her eyes darting from my face to Sera’s still form and back again. “You’re… you? You’re the Alpha?”


    I nodded, shifting Sera’s weight slightly. “She had too much to drink at thepany dinner tonight. I wanted to make sure she got home


    safely.”


    Ophelia’s eyes narrowed as she studied Sera’s appearance more closely-the flushed cheeks, the disheveled hair, the torn strap of her dress that I hadn’t noticed in the dim light of the car. “Too much to drink? She doesn’t look drunk, she looks…”


    “May I bring her inside?” I interrupted, not wanting to exin the full story while standing in a public hallway. “She needs to rest.”


    After a moment’s hesitation, Ophelia stepped aside, leading me up a narrow staircase to the second floor. The hallway was cramped and dimly lit, with thin carpeting that had seen better years. She unlocked a door marked 2B and gestured for me to follow her inside.


    The apartment was tiny but immactely clean. A small living room opened into an even smaller kitchen, and I could see a single bedroom beyond. Everything was organized with the precision of someone who couldn’t afford to waste space.


    “The bedroom’s through here,” Ophelia said, still eyeing me with suspicion as she led the way.


    I followed her into a space that was barelyrge enough for a double bed and a small dresser. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and I could see children’s drawings taped beside the bed-stick figuresbeled “MOMMY” and “ME” in careful block letters.


    Iid Sera gently on the bed, making sure her head was properly supported by the pillows. In the soft light from the bedsidemp, she looked fragile and young, her dark hair spread across the pale pillowcase. Without thinking, I reached out to brush a strand away from


    her face.


    “She’ll be fine by morning,” I said quietly, though I wasn’t entirely sure that was true. “Just needs to sleep it off.”


    Ophelia crossed her arms, studying me with the intensity of a protective older sister. Before I could respond, there was a sound from the living room-small footsteps padding across the floor. A momentter, a small figure appeared in the doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes with


    tiny fists.


    “Ophelia? What’s wrong? Why are you talking so loud?”


    I turned toward the voice and felt my entire world shift on its axis.


    Standing in the doorway was a little boy who couldn’t have been more than four years old, with tousled dark brown curls and sleep-


    creased cheeks. He was wearing dinosaur pajamas and clutching a stuffed wolf that had seen better days.


    But it was his eyes that stopped my heart. Deep blue eyes that shimmered with silver light even in the dim bedroom lighting.


    “You!” he said suddenly, his sleepy confusion transforming into something sharper. He ran to the bed, positioning himself protectively


    between me and Sera despite being barely three feet tall. “Who are you? Are you a bad man?”


    Alex was howling in my mind. The scenting from the child was familiar in a way that made my wolf pace restlessly, aplex


    mixture that included something unmistakably…


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