Page 3

Adrian

Lucien D'Arcy sits at the farthest table in the VIP section, looking every inch the aristocratic predator he is. The leader of the D'Arcy Coven, a vampire older than most buildings in this town. The restaurant is one of the few supernatural-friendly establishments in Whispering Pines, a sleek, candlelit space offering both standard meals and more… niche options for its clientele.

He is elegance and danger wrapped together, and, as usual, he looks entirely amused to see me.

The wolf in me bristles.

I don't like dealing with vampires, but I need his cooperation. The gala requires powerful allies, and Lucien's endorsement would be a game-changer. That doesn't mean I have to enjoy groveling for it.

Beside me, Maya Ramirez walks with an easy, almost careless confidence that is entirely at odds with the tension threading through my shoulders. It’s been days since Maya started working with me, and not once has she failed to draw my attention—or my attraction.

She's wearing a sleek black dress that hugs her curves just enough to make my pulse jump—striking a perfect balance between sophistication and subtle temptation. I shouldn't be noticing those details, shouldn't let my gaze drift lower, shouldn't let my thoughts wander down a path that will only lead to complications.

And yet, here we are.

The scent of pine and lavender clings to her, winding its way through my senses like a phantom touch I can't shake. My wolf stirs at the proximity, a slow, simmering awareness that tightens my jaw and coils heat low in my gut. It's instinct, I tell myself. A biological reaction. Nothing more.

I force my attention forward, locking my focus on the task at hand. Because the last thing I need right now is to be distracted by Maya Ramirez.

Lucien rises gracefully from his seat as we approach, flashing a smile that doesn't quite touch his cold, piercing gaze. "Blackwell," he greets smoothly. Then, his focus shifts to Maya, and something predatory glints in his expression. "And who is this delightful creature?"

My muscles coil instinctively. The urge to step between them, to shield Maya from Lucien's calculating gaze, surges through me with surprising force.

Mine—

No. Not mine. I shove down the intrusive thought before it can fester, but my jaw clenches anyway.

"My assistant," I state flatly. "Maya Ramirez."

If Lucien notices the growl underlying my clipped tone, he doesn't comment. He simply extends a hand, palm up, in a ridiculous show of courtly manners. "A pleasure, Miss Ramirez."

Maya doesn't hesitate—of course she doesn't. She shakes his hand with a firm grip, flashing a smile that's all polite confidence, though I catch the slight uptick in her heartbeat. "Likewise, Mr. D'Arcy."

Lucien chuckles, clearly entertained as he gestures for us to sit. "Charming," he murmurs as he settles back into his chair. His gaze flicks between Maya and me, too knowing for comfort. "She doesn't flinch at all, does she, Blackwell? Rather... refreshing."

I don't respond, but my fingers press harder against the table's surface.

A server appears, refilling Lucien's glass with something deep, red, and unmistakably laced with blood. He swirls it lazily before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving us.

"Let's skip the posturing," I say, leaning forward, my hands clasped in front of me on the table. The sooner we finish this, the better.

"Indeed," Lucien muses. "You want my support for your little gala. More specifically, you want my endorsement. The backing of the D'Arcy Coven." He tilts his head, gaze glittering. "And why, pray tell, should I offer it?"

I grit my teeth. "The gala isn't just for show. Strengthening supernatural alliances is the only way we stand a chance against the hunters. My vision for Whispering Pines—"

"Yes, yes," Lucien sighs dramatically. "Your grand vision. " He taps a single, elegant finger against the rim of his glass. "You call yourself a lone wolf, Adrian. Yet here you are, building sanctuaries, forging alliances." His smile turns razor-sharp. "One might wonder what changed."

Maya shifts beside me, and the movement draws both our attention. Her amber eyes are fixed on Lucien, thoughtful and sharp. Before I can formulate a response, she speaks.

"Funny," she says lightly, flipping her curls over one shoulder. The motion sends another wave of her scent washing over me, and I have to force myself not to inhale deeply. "I'd imagine a vampire of your status would appreciate this kind of forward-thinking, Mr. D'Arcy."

Lucien raises an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Maya shrugs, but there's steel beneath her casual tone. "I mean, it's not like your kind are thriving in isolation, either. The days of hidden covens tucked away in dark castles are kind of over, right? Everyone needs safe places, strong partnerships." Her eyes flash. "Adrian's just building something that actually makes that happen."

Lucien watches her, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. Something dark and ancient stirs in his gaze. "You have a sharp tongue, little wolf."

Maya grins, unfazed. "So I've been told."

The air between them crackles with tension, and my wolf growls, not liking the way Lucien's studying her. But there's something else too—a grudging respect in his expression that wasn't there before.

"You make a compelling point," he admits. Then he turns his gaze back to me, and there's definitely amusement dancing in those ancient eyes now. "Fine. I'll attend your gala. And I'll bring the coven's support with me."

There's no reason for the satisfaction that surges through me when Maya beams.

But there it is.

The rest of the meeting flows smoothly enough. We arrange the necessary agreements, confirm details, and by the time we step outside into the crisp mountain air, the tension in my shoulders has eased—but only slightly. Lucien might be amused for now, but I know better than to trust his good mood entirely.

"Such a delightful meeting," Lucien purrs, his silver-gray eyes fixing on Maya. "Your assistant is truly... enchanting, Adrian. A rare find indeed." He takes Maya's hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles with old-world charm. A low growl builds in my chest before I can stop it.

A sleek black car glides to the curb, and Lucien steps toward it with fluid grace. "Until next time, my dear," he says to Maya with a smile that sets my teeth on edge. The car door closes behind him with a soft thud, and I watch it disappear around the corner, my jaw clenched.

Maya stretches beside me, rolling her shoulders. The movement draws my eye to the elegant line of her neck, and I force myself to look away. "That went well," she says, casting me a sidelong glance. "You're welcome, by the way."

I shoot her an unimpressed look. "For what?"

She smirks, and something warm curls in my chest at the sight. "For reminding D'Arcy that you're not entirely devoid of good ideas."

I exhale sharply, shaking my head. "You're insufferable."

Her laughter is bright, unguarded. It hits me like a physical thing, that sound, making my wolf stir with interest I can't afford.

Something about her pulls at me, at my wolf, in ways I can't explain. She stands there, defiant and beautiful, amber eyes flashing with that familiar spark of challenge. The late afternoon sun catches in her dark curls, making them shine like polished mahogany. My fingers itch with the sudden, maddening urge to reach out and touch them, to see if they're as soft as they look. It's dangerous, this loss of control she inspires. More dangerous still is how much I'm starting to crave it.

"I'm just saying," she continues, clearly enjoying herself now. "Maybe loosen up once in a while, Blackwell. It won't kill you."

I should tell her to mind her business. I should remind her that I don't do casual conversation, that I don't indulge in idle chatter.

Instead, for reasons beyond my own understanding, I let my lips curl into a smirk.

Maya's amber eyes widen, like she wasn't expecting it. The surprise in her expression stirs something primal in my gut—a dangerous flutter of attraction I thought I'd buried. She's deceptively tempting, this small wolf with her sharp tongue and fearless attitude. The way she shifts her weight, clearly thrown off balance by my response, only intensifies the pull. I want to see that look again, want to be the cause of it.

And that's exactly why I need to stop this now. Wanting leads to caring, and caring... caring is what gets people killed. I've learned that lesson the hard way.

A sleek black car pulls up to the curb. The door swings open, and Eli leans against the hood, arms crossed, eyes glittering with amusement.

“I see we survived vampire negotiations. Impressive.” He glances between us, an all-too-knowing smirk forming. “But you… you’re in trouble, boss.”

Maya huffs out a laugh. “Finally, someone says it out loud.”

I scowl. “Get in the damn car.”

Eli just grins, and Maya? She throws one last smirk over her shoulder before turning away. Something inside me tightens as I watch her walk off, her scent unmistakable, lingering long after she’s gone.

As much as I want to deny it, Eli’s right.

I’m in deep trouble.