Alex’sPOV


    Regret gnawed at me, a bitter aftertaste lingering in my mouth as Adrian’s words echoed in my


    head. I should have paid more attention, should have heeded the not so veiled threat hanging heavy


    in his final words. Instead, I’d brushed it off, convinced that whatever he had nned, I could handle


    it.


    Money, influence, power – I had it all in excess. Surely, I could weather whatever storm he intended


    to unleash. But for the first time, the weight of my arrogance pressed down on me, a suffocating


    realization of my own w.


    The first blow came swift and unexpected. News of werewolves existence was leaked to the world.


    The truth became public spectacle, sshed across headlines and dissected on every news


    channel. Panic rippled through the human poption, fear morphing into a primal hatred. Bounties


    were ced on the heads of any werewolf, turning former neighbors into hunters, friends into


    potential betrayers. We, the creatures of myth and legend, were suddenly the monsters in their


    stories.


    The world descended into chaos. Werewolves, forced out of the shadows, scrambled to protect


    themselves. Violence erupted, escting what was once a silent war into an all–out conflict. My


    focus narrowed, my priorities shifting. The pack, my responsibility, became my sole concern.


    Keeping them safe, ensuring their survival now my paramount objective. And her, Amaya, she


    remained a constant worry in the


    back of my mind.


    For a week, I managed a risky dance. The initial frenzy hadn’t reached my city yet, offering a


    temporary reprieve. From the safety of my heavily guarded mansion, I worked tirelessly at damage


    control.


    . Businesses were


    7reatened, investments sabotaged. But I had resources, a


    was a general in a silent war, fighting an unseen enemy.


    Somehow with undeniable evidence, my name the restaurants I owned, everything I’d built over the


    years,


    Then, the walls crumbled. The attack was swift, brutal, and undeniably targeted right made


    headlines revealing to the public that I was one of them. Mypanie began to go up in mes.


    The message was clear: I was no longer untouchable.


    a


    Fear wasn’t a part of the equation. It was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Anger, a simmering inferno,


    fueled my every move. But beneath it all, cold, calcting logic took hold. This wasn’t random, not a


    spontaneous outburst of violence. This was a calcted attack, methodical and precise. And deep


    down, in the pit of my gut, I knew who was behind it.


    Adrian.


    Frustration gnawed at me. Holed up in this cramped safe house, miles away from everything, I was


    strategizing. This whole situation was a tangled mess, an irritating knot that needed untying. And


    what made it even more infuriating was Christian’s refusal to pick up his damn


    phone.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice crackled through the receiver. He let out a long,


    annoyed sigh before drawling, “Look, Alex, you know you and I aren’t a thing. Stop blowing up my


    phone.”


    I red at the phone, willing him to feel the intensity of my stare. “This isn’t the time for jokes,


    Christian. Why haven’t you been taking my calls?”


    “Because, like I already said, you and I aren’t exactly in a rtionship,” he replied dryly.


    I growled, the sound a low rumble in my throat. “Christian!”


    He sighed again, this time a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. “Alright, alright, lighten up.


    It’s not the end of the world… well, wait, maybe it kind of is if everything’s going up in mes.”


    Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g


    “Your dark humor isn’t appreciated right now,” I spat. “Did you find anything?”


    A beat of tense silence stretched between us before he spoke again. This time, his voicecked its


    usual sarcastic lilt. “Things are bad, Alex. Really bad. Your headquarters in the city took another


    hit. I still haven’t been able to locate Adrian, and I got some news about Amaya.”


    My blood ran cold. Amaya. I’d specifically assigned two of my most trusted guards, both human and


    werewolf, to ensure her safety, “What happened to her?” I demanded, my voice an icy whisper.


    “She was at thepany when another attack went down,” he exined. “Her best friend’s


    husband – I don’t know his name–shifted to protect her. He got shot.”


    Tran a hand through my hair, the frustration


    “She seems okay for now, at least from what I can tell. Thest


    knotting


    even tighter in my gut. Shit. “And Amaya?”


    sighting reported her walking away in a daze.”


    “Okay. Keep searching for Adrian. That bastard j


    going to pay for all of


    Is. I have people working on stopping the attacks on my buildings.”


    He hummed in response. “You’re public enemy number one, Alex. There ar


    rumors that you have blood money and your empires were built on the blood you used the monster


    in you to kill. I know whatever I say won’t stop you from going after her, but for the love of all that’s


    holy, stay in the shadows and use your head.”


    The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone in my hand. Public reced by a suffocating


    sense of istion.


    enemy number one. The once familiarfort of power was gone,


    First things first: Amaya. She was alone, vulnerable, and the knot of worry tightening in my stomach


    threatened to choke me. I couldn’t waste


    another second.


    Leaping out of the safe house, I sprinted towards the car, ignoring the protests of the guard


    stationed outside. The engine roared to life as I mmed the door shut.


    The city, once a familiarndscape of towering buildings and bustling streets, had be a


    stranger. Smoke billowed from gaping holes in buildings, the acrid smell stinging my nostrils. Debris


    littered the streets, twisted metal skeletons of cars the remnants of recent attacks. Looters roamed


    freely, their faces twisted in a mix of fear and greed as they scavenged the wreckage.


    Fury boiled within me, hot and potent. My people, the ones I entrusted with Amaya’s safety, where


    were they? The thought of them failing me, of them letting her get hurt, sent a fresh wave of anger


    crashing through me.


    Every building that resembled the officeplex from Christian’s description became a potential


    destination. My eyes scanned the sidewalks, searching for a sh of copper hair, a familiar face,


    Minutes bled into what felt like hours, each passing second a hammer blow to my already strained


    nerves.


    Then, a flicker of movement in the distance. A sh of copper, unmistakable even from afar. Amaya.


    My heart lurched in my chest, a surge of relief battling with the anger still simmering beneath the


    surface. She was walking, her movements slow and erratic, her head hanging low. My grip tightened


    on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.


    Pulling over to the curb a safe distance away, I killed the engine. Watching her, I saw the exhaustion


    etched on her face, the way her shoulders slumped with defeat. I was probably thest person she


    wanted to see but I was here and she wasn’t supposed to be roaming the streets like a crazy


    person. It wasn’t safe. But as I reached for the door handle, a new figure entered the scene.


    A tall, broad–shouldered man emerged from the shadows. He spoke, his voice a low rumble that


    didn’t reach me, but the effect on Amaya was undeniable. Her head snapped up, a flicker of


    recognition recing the daze in her eyes. And then, to my utter annoyance, she ran. Not away


    from him, but towards him. Right into his open arms.


    Right into Ivan’s arms.


    Rage choked me, a physical sensation that constricted my throat and made it hard to breathe. I


    watched them, Amaya nestled in Ivan’s arms. Every muscle in my body screamed to act, to tear


    them apart and reim what I felt was rightfully mine. But logic, a cold hand gripping my


    16:25 Tue, 2 Jul G


    reason, held me back.


    With a deep, shuddering breath, I forced myself to turn away. Sliding back into the driver’s seat, I


    mmed the car into gear and peeled away from the curb. I didn’t know where I was going, didn’t


    care at that precise moment. All I needed was distance, some space to clear the red haze clouding


    my judgment.


    gh the t The insistent buzzing of my phone broke through fog of anger. ncing at the screen, I saw


    Christian’s name sh across the disy. With a growl, I snatched the phone up. “What?” I barked,


    my voice raw with barely contained emotion.


    “Looks like things didn’t exactly go ording to n in La La Land,” Christian drawled, his usual


    sardonic tone tempered with a hint of


    seriousness.


    “What do you want, Christian?” I snarled, the questionced with frustration. Thest thing I needed


    right now was his snarkymentary.


    The amusement vanished from his voice. “I have some good news. News that might just help you


    put all that anger to good use.”


    A flicker of curiosity sparked through the haze of rage. “Good news?” I echoed, skepticism heavy in


    my voice.


    “Yep,” Christian replied, a hint of a smirk creeping back into his tone. “The good kind. I found A