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They approached the service entrance, two of Orion's men taking point. Inside, the marble floors gleamed under recessed lighting, the décor screaming old money and new power. Orion's tactical mind catalogued exit points, security cameras, and staff positions even as his wolf zeroed in on Seraphina's scent—jasmine and stardust, now tinged with terror.

Each step deeper into the compound made the bond pulse stronger, guiding him through the labyrinthine hallways. His blood burned with the need to shift and tear through walls and guards alike to reach her.

"Sub-level elevator requires keycard access," one of his men murmured, gesturing to a discrete door guarded by a single uniformed human.

Orion's smile was all predator. "Then let's acquire one, shall we?"

Minutes later, they stood in the elevator descending to the lower level, the guard's keycard in hand and the man himself conveniently taking an unscheduled nap in a supply closet.

As the doors slid open, the mate bond no longer just pulled—it sang, vibrating through his entire being. Seraphina was close. So close.

"She's in the third room on the left," Orion whispered, not needing surveillance to confirm what the bond told him with absolute clarity. "Two guards at the door. Iverson is with her."

The hallway stretched before them, sterile and white, a stark contrast to the opulence upstairs. This level wasn't for show—it was functional, designed for privacy and containment.

Chance checked his weapon. "Plan?"

The wolf inside Orion howled for blood, for vengeance, and for the satisfaction of tearing out Iverson's throat. But the king within him, the strategist who'd ruled for centuries, knew better.

"We go in clean. Secure my Luna first, then deal with the senator." His voice was deceptively calm, belying the storm within. "But make no mistake—he will pay for putting his hands on her."

NINETEEN

SERAPHINA

The limousine glided to a stop in front of Senator Iverson's private island estate. The white mansion's imposing structure perched dramatically on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Seraphina shifted uncomfortably, the fabric of her dress suddenly feeling too thin against her skin as a chill ran through her body. The material that had felt perfect for Orion's private island now seemed inadequate protection against what she knew was coming.

Her mind raced with the horrific visions that had assaulted her since leaving Orion's island—Iverson transforming into a monstrous wolf, tearing Orion apart, and enslaving his pack. Then the even more immediate vision of herself handcuffed to a chair, trapped and powerless.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Senator Iverson's voice was smooth as silk as he opened the limo door himself, offering his hand with practiced charm.

Seraphina hesitated before accepting it, forcing a smile. "It's... impressive."

"Wait until you see the inside. I designed it myself." He guided her up the marble steps, his fingers gripping her elbow just a little too firmly. "Abby's been quite anxious to see you."

The mention of her friend gave Seraphina a momentary spark of hope. If Abby was truly here, maybe she could signal her somehow to get help.

The mansion's interior was a study in cold elegance—white marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and artwork that probably cost more than her entire year's salary. Two men in dark suits flanked the entrance, their eyes watchful beneath expressionless faces.

"Where's Abby?" Seraphina asked, turning in a small circle, searching for any sign of her blonde friend.

The distinct sound of a lock clicking into place behind her made her stomach drop.

"About that..." Senator Iverson's charming smile twisted into something predatory. "Abby never knew you were gone."

The two suited men moved to block the entrance completely, their jackets shifting to reveal holstered weapons.

"What are you talking about?" Seraphina backed away, her heart pounding.

"I made that whole story up." He shrugged, looking almost proud of himself. "I needed your cooperation, and what better way than to convince you that your best friend was worried?"

"It was you," she whispered, realization dawning with crystal clarity. "You broke into my house in Miami."

"Guilty." He spread his hands. "When I found you weren't home, I had to improvise. Found your friend Abby's picture and contact information in your papers. It provided the perfect cover story."

Rage bubbled up inside her. "You invaded my home and then manipulated me? Why would you do all this?"

"Because you're special, Seraphina." His ice-blue eyes glinted with ambition. "Those visions of yours—they're going to help me achieve greatness. We could be partners."