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No, I'm not. I'm in more danger than I've ever been.

Seraphina looked out the window, watching the jungle press close against the road, feeling more trapped with every passing second. "I can't wait to see Abby. Is it much further?"

"Just around the bend." Iverson's voice held a promise that made her blood run cold. "And then we can truly get to know one another."

EIGHTEEN

ORION

Orion's broad shoulders tensed as Seraphina climbed the stairs to Senator Iverson's private jet. The blue-green sundress she wore billowed slightly in the morning breeze, making her look like a siren being swept away from her rightful home. His fingers tightened into fists at his sides, the black shirt stretching across his tense shoulders.

He wanted to snarl. To shift. To claim. But centuries of discipline kept him rooted to the tarmac.

"I'll be back before you know it,"she'd promised moments ago, her voice carrying a tremor that set his instincts on high alert.

He hadn't responded. Couldn't. The wolf inside him was too busy howling at the wrongness of it all.

York followed close behind her, his lanky frame casting a predatory shadow. The aide's practiced smile did nothing to mask the victorious gleam in his eyes as he cast a final glance back at Orion.

Through the tiny window, he caught Seraphina's gaze—tears glistening in those green eyes he'd lost himself in just minutes before. But beneath the sadness lurked something darker. Fear. Raw and unmistakable.

"She had another vision," he muttered, not looking away from the plane.

Chance shifted beside him. "You think?"

"I know." Orion reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the sapphire necklace she'd pressed into his palm before leaving. "She's worried about something she's seen."

The plane began its taxi down the runway, carrying his heart away with each foot of distance gained. Without her presence grounding them both, her powers would be running wild—ambushing her with visions she wasn't prepared to handle alone.

"Was it done?" Orion asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble as the jet lifted off.

Chance nodded, his dark eyes tracking the plane's ascent. "The tracker's in place, just as you ordered. Embedded in the undercarriage where they won't find it."

"And our jet?"

"Fueled and ready. We can be airborne in ten minutes."

Orion's eyes never left the departing plane, even as he felt something shift in his chest—the mate bond stretching thinner but vibrating with increasing intensity. Through it came waves of rising panic, sharp enough to make his teeth ache.

"They're not heading toward Miami."

Chance pulled out his tablet, tapping the screen to bring up the tracking information. "Son of a bitch. You're right. They're veering northwest toward?—"

"The senator's private island." Orion's voice was lethally quiet.

"What's the plan, boss?" Chance asked, already pulling out his phone.

Orion's fingers closed tighter around the necklace, the sapphire's edges biting into his palm. "We're going after them. Now."

"The diplomatic approach? Or are we going full wolf on this one?"

A dangerous smile crept across Orion's face, one that hadn't been seen in centuries of peaceful rule. "Get the helicopter too. And tell the team to bring weapons—both kinds."

"The council?—"

"The council can go fuck themselves." Orion turned, his eyes flashing with predatory intensity. "That's my Luna they've taken. I'm done playing by human rules."

Through the bond, he sent a silent message of reassurance—though he knew she couldn't hear his thoughts, perhaps she could feel his determination.