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I want to bite her. Gods help me, I want to sink into her flesh and taste what it means for someone like her to fight like that. To guard like that. It isn’t about sex—not only. It’s about the kind of craving that undoes kingdoms. The kind that makes centuries-old monsters drop to their knees.

I shouldn’t want her like this. Not when she’s shaking. Not when she’s bleeding. Not when she’s looking at me like I’m the only solid thing left in a world that just cracked beneath her feet.

But I do.

And if I don’t get her out of this house, if I don’t put distance between her and whatever shadow slipped in through that window, I will lose what little control I’m clinging to.

I wait. Thirty seconds. A full breath. Then I take out my phone and call Kasar.

He picks up like he was waiting for it.

“Something happen?” This time, there’s no amusement in his voice. Kasar rarely bothers pretending to be surprised.

“There was a break-in. Blake’s place.” I glance around again—honed eyesight catching the subtle clues, the right-angle scrapes by the hallway window, the faint flutter of letter edge from a disturbed pile of mail. “In and out too fast to leave much. I didn’t get a look at his face. And there’s no scent ofanything.”

“Magically cloaked. And you think it was the wolf.”

“I don’t scent him but there’s no one else who’d do this.” My voice shakes on the edges. Not from fear. From rage.

“Unless it was a coincidence.”

Kasar’s tone makes it clear he thinks it’s a coincidence as much as I do.

I step into the living room, glancing around in hopes of a sign tonight was a standard B&E but unhelpful. I try to ignore the couch where I’d been between Blake’s legs. “Nothing looks—” my jaw snaps shut as I see a white gift box tied in ribbon on the side table.

The Nightshade’s enforcer is silent as I cross the room. With a single jerk of a hand, I rend the velvet ribbon and flip the lid off it. I nearly put my fist through her hallway at the contents. “It was him. I’m bringing both to my place. Now.”

“Problem I need to be aware of?”

“Not yet. I’ll keep you updated. Let me know as soon as you pin down where he was tonight.”

“Where who was?” Blake’s voice comes from behind me.

I hang up and turn to see her there, holding a messenger bag and tugging Charlie behind her by the hand. I take the young girl in, my protective instincts expanding to include her. Her eyes are foggy yet wide, tired from being woken in the middle of the night but too anxious to relax. She’s in an overlarge sweater with a sloth on it and her strawberry blonde hair is down around her shoulders.

“I’ll explain once we’re at my place,” I answer and try to relax so I look less threatening. I doubt it works. I meet Charlie’s blue eyes. “Your mom told me about how you two watch Married at First Sight together—” a line that has Blake narrowing her eyes at me, “—It’s actually one of my favorite shows. I have every season at my place. Maybe your mom will let you play hooky tomorrow and you can marathon it? If you want.”

Charlie looks as skeptical as her mom does and the closing of a car door stops her from answering. Both she and Blake flinch as they look towards the still open front door. Blake takes a step towards me and I try not to fucking love that she does that. Her instincts tell her I’ll protect her, even if her mind questions me.

“It’s just Ashe.” I give in to my needs, just enough to put my hand on her lower back. With a gentle nudge, she and Charlie let me guide them out to the street where Ashe waits beside the driver door of a large black Mercedes SUV. In his crisp suit, I doubt they can tell I woke him up with my call. He gives me a nod which I return and he moves to the passenger door behind his and opens it. He hands me the keys.

Blake urges Charlie in first before joining her. I close the door with a quiet click.

“Get men here,” I order lowly. “I want the whole neighborhood combed. There’s a white gift box in the living room. Have someone deliver it to the penthouse.”

Ashe nods once. “We’ll keep you updated.”

I don’t bother answering. Instead I get into the SUV and drive us through the sleeping Barrows toward the relative safety of Topside. Only in the dark of the car do I finally let myself snarl, teeth flashing in the dark.

No scent. No name. No trace.

But he was here.

And next time, I’ll be waiting.

ChapterSixteen

BLAKE