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“Oh, I think you’ll find we can be very persuasive.” Cassian’s smile turns cold. “Mathew?”

Before I can react, Mathew grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back. He has a small vial in his hand, and he pours the liquid in it down my throat.

I don’t get the chance to struggle because he pinches my nose shut and covers my mouth, forcing me to swallow.

As soon as he releases me, I begin coughing, gasping for air. “What the hell was that?”

“Just a little something to make you compliant.” Mathew pats my cheek.

“Griffin will find me,” I say, trying to sound confident and not let the fear show through. “He’ll tear you apart.”

Mathew laughs, a sound I once found endearing that now sends shivers down my spine. “The wolf king? He doesn’t even know where you are. By the time he figures it out, we’ll be long gone—with you securely in our possession.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I reply, desperately playing for time. “He’s protective of what’s his.”

“His?” Cassian raises an eyebrow. “From what I’ve heard, he rejected you quite thoroughly. Left you alone when your mother died. Danced with another woman at his coronation.”

Each word is like a knife, reopening wounds that had just begun to heal. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“We know everything about you, Maya,” Mathew says softly. “We’ve been watching you for months. Your drinking. Your isolation. Your grief. You’ve been destroying yourself quite efficiently without our help.”

I flinch, the truth in his words cutting deeper than I want to admit.

“You know what’s truly fascinating?” Mathew asks, watching me closely. “The connection between humans and shifters. The biology of it.”

I hesitate. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why some humans are naturally drawn to shifters?” Mathew continues, eyes gleaming with intellectual fervor. “Why some of us, like you, seem to understand them so instinctively?”

“I’m a scientist,” I reply cautiously. “I observe. I learn.”

“It’s more than that.” Mathew leans forward eagerly. “Some humans carry dormant shifter genes. Recessive, inactive—but present nonetheless. Evidence of interbreeding generations ago.”

I go completely still. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Mathew’s smile widens. “We’ve identified several genetic markers. Tested them extensively.”

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask, though a cold suspicion is already forming.

“You, Dr. Sorin,” Cassian interjects, “have the most promising genetic profile we’ve ever seen. With the right stimulus, the right catalyst, and just the right amount of sacrifice—”

“You could become something extraordinary,” Mathew finishes, eyes alight with scientific zeal. “We’ve been developing a serum to activate those dormant genes. We want to elevate you. To make you the bridge between the two species. Imagine the possibilities!”

“You’re insane,” I whisper. “Both of you.”

“Insanity is a matter of perspective,” Cassian says coolly. “Where are the others?”

Others? What others?

I can feel my body becoming heavy. I have to get out of here. If they’ve called in reinforcements…

I stand abruptly, knocking my chair over backward.

Mathew sighs, reaching for me, but I’m already moving. I grab the heavy wine bottle from the table and swing it hard, catching him across the temple. He staggers back, blood instantly welling from the gash.

Cassian moves with supernatural speed, but I’m running on pure adrenaline. I hurl the bottle at him and then overturn the table, sending the glassware crashing to the floor between us.

However, I lose my balance.

Before I can hit the floor, Mathew catches me. He doesn’t seem angry, just smug. Guiding me to a chair as my legs finally give out, he asks, “Do you remember when Cassian brought you to the facility? You were supposed to meet me.”

I stare at him, horror dawning even through the growing fog in my mind. “You’re the crazy scientist I was supposed to work with?”

“I prefer the term ‘visionary.’” Mathew grins, crouching to my eye level. “But yes. I was devastated when you escaped with the wolf king. Your mind, Maya—it’s extraordinary. The work we could have done together…”

My brain is getting confused now. Fear is thick on my tongue.

The door opens, but my vision swims too much to make out who enters. Voices murmur around me, distorted as if I’m underwater. I try to focus, to fight through the haze, but whatever they gave me is holding my mind in a thick fog.

“Time to go,” someone says, their voice unnervingly gentle.

Hands grip my arms, lifting me to my feet. I try to resist, but my limbs won’t cooperate, moving like they belong to someone else. I’m guided out of the restaurant. Nobody helps. Nobody questions why a barely conscious woman is being escorted out.

“Just had too much to drink,” Mathew explains to someone, his voice carrying that convincing concern that now strikes me as utterly false.

Warm air hits my face as we emerge from the building. A car idles nearby. I’m folded into the backseat, my head lolling against the window. Through half-lidded eyes, I watch the restaurant shrink behind us, its golden lights blurring into streaks as we speed away.

Time fractures, skipping forward in disjointed chunks. Highway lights. Dark forest roads. The crunch of gravel under tires. My consciousness fades in and out, never quite reaching clarity.

When the car finally stops, I’m vaguely aware of being carried. A door opens, closes. The air smells musty and unused.

“Sit her here.” Cassian’s voice, sharp with authority.

I’m placed in a hard, wooden chair. Rough rope scrapes my wrists as they are bound behind me, tight enough to bite into my skin. My ankles are secured to the chair legs, immobilizing me completely.

“She’s coming around,” Mathew observes. “The dose is wearing off.”

Cold water splashes my face, shocking me into greater awareness. I gasp, blinking rapidly as the room swims into focus. A small cabin, sparsely furnished. Medical equipment lines one wall, familiar and terrifying.

Cassian stands before me, smiling that pleasant smile that now turns my stomach. “Welcome back, Dr. Sorin.”

“What do you want?” My voice emerges as a croak. A cold knot of fear tightens inside my chest. “Griffin won’t come for me.”

“Oh, but he will.” Cassian’s hand grips my shoulder, fingers digging painfully into my flesh. “The great king, rushing to save his human pet. How predictable.”

“You’re wrong.” I force the words out, each one tasting like ash. “He doesn’t love me.”

Mathew laughs, the sound echoing harshly in the small space. “You should see your face when you say that. You’re a terrible liar, Maya.”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” I snap, struggling against my bonds. “He made his choice. He chose his kingdom, not me.”

“We’ll see,” Cassian says, moving to prepare something I can’t quite glimpse. “We’ll see exactly what the wolf king is willing to sacrifice for you.”

My thoughts are fracturing, reality blurring at the edges. Something stirs within me—a strange sensation, like an entity awakening deep in my consciousness. I’ve never felt anything like it before, a buzzing awareness that seems separate from my own mind.

Cassian lifts a needle and hands it to Mathew, who bends down.

As the needle pierces my skin, darkness creeps over the edges of my vision. The strange presence inside me grows stronger, more distinct. Is this death, finally coming to claim me? After months of emptiness, of grief, of alcohol-numbed existence, is this how it ends?

A part of me welcomes it. The release, the end of pain.

Another part—the part that spoke with Griffin this morning, that felt something other than numbness for the first time in months—rails against it. I want to tell him that I understand why he pushed me away. I want to say I forgive him, that he shouldn’t blame himself once I’m gone.

But the darkness is pulling me under, and I have no strength left to fight it.

Distantly, I hear glass shatter. Shouts. A roar that shakes the very foundation of the cabin.

Then, chaos erupts.

A massive silver wolf crashes through the window, its fur gleaming like polished metal in the dying sunlight. Teeth bared, muscles taut with deadly power, it launches straight at Cassian.

Griffin!

Despite everything, my heart leaps with recognition.

Cassian shifts in an instant, his wolf form smaller but wiry and quick. The two beasts collide in a blur of teeth and claws, snarling and snapping. Furniture splinters beneath their weight. Equipment crashes to the floor.

Two figures rush out the door, and Mathew yanks me from the chair, using me as a shield. Something cold and sharp presses against my throat—a scalpel, I realize dimly.

Griffin and Cassian break apart, both bleeding from multiple wounds. Griffin’s amber eyes find mine, and the raw anguish in them pierces through my drug-induced haze.

Cassian circles, looking for an opening.

The pressure at my throat increases, and something warm trickles down my neck. The strange presence inside me surges in response to the danger, a primal force I’ve never experienced before.

Griffin’s attention shifts from me to Cassian and back, torn between protecting me and defending himself. In that moment of distraction, Cassian strikes, sinking his teeth into Griffin’s shoulder.

Griffin roars in pain but throws Cassian off with tremendous force. The smaller wolf crashes into a wall of equipment, glass shattering around him. He staggers to his feet, bleeding heavily but still dangerous.

The two wolves circle each other, evenly matched in their fury if not their size. Blood darkens Griffin’s silver fur, but his eyes remain fixed on Cassian, calculating each move.

Mathew drags me backward toward the door. The scalpel digs deeper, and I feel more blood seeping from the wound.

A strange calm settles over me as death approaches. The darkness I see around me deepens, reality fading in and out like a bad radio transmission. The strange presence within me grows stronger still, refusing to surrender.