T he elevator doors open directly into the foyer of what I remember to be the boardroom level.

My stepsister, Zara, is waiting there to greet me, her expression a picture of anxiety.

I step out ahead of Seb and the human guard, pausing for a moment to plant my hand against the elevator door, a deliberate move on my part to tell the system to stay open a moment longer than strictly necessary.

I went a little off-script in the reception area, but my movements from this point on will be carefully controlled and by design.

My main priority now is ensuring my stepsister remains safe.

I step across the marble floor toward her, even as she hurries in my direction. She’s dressed in a black suit that matches the inky darkness of her short-cut hair.

Her heels tap the floor, and her voice is sharp as she snaps at the guard with the gun. “Put that away. If Striker wanted to kill you, he already would have.”

In the next second, she reaches for me, her voice lowering to a whisper as she pulls me into a hug.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not right now. Dad’s in the middle of a board meeting, and he’s fucking furious.

A weapons cache was stolen last night, right out from under his nose here in New York City, and?—”

At that moment, the nearby doors slam open.

“Zara!” Oliver steps from the next room, his face twisting as the door closes behind him, leaving me with only a glimpse of the boardroom members within it. “Step away from that pathetic beast.”

Zara stays right where she is, although she lets go of my arm and edges in front of me as if she intends to protect me.

I can’t stop my eyes from widening. It’s the first time she’s ever acted to defend me.

The last time I saw Zara was at the Academy, right after Peyton gave her a verbal dressing down for allowing me to be imprisoned and leaving me in a cage.

Zara didn’t try to free me while I was there, but she would bring me healing gel that she procured from an apothecary on Saber Lane in Boston.

I used that medicine on Peyton to help her wounds to heal.

Peyton was enraged by the fact that none of the other students received help like that, and it seems she held nothing back when she told Zara so.

My heart squeezes at the thought of Peyton, but I push away my sadness. She’s free now, and the loss I feel is only mine.

Focusing on the danger in front of me, I prepare to pull Zara out of the way. There’s no need for her to defend me.

I have a secret weapon in this situation, which I’ll reveal very soon.

At the same time, I’m aware of the way that Seb has angled in toward my sister’s other side. His body language telegraphs his intention to pull her away from me. It makes me wonder if he’s my father’s guard or Zara’s, but I don’t have time to ponder it.

Oliver rages toward me. He’s even thinner than the last time I saw him at the Academy, his hair whiter at the temples and his cheekbones somehow sharper. Stress radiates out from him like a palpable force.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to walk away, Striker,” he snarls. “Crawl back into whatever hole you came from. You aren’t wanted here. In fact, there isn’t a person on this Earth who wants you around.”

He knows exactly how to hurt me.

A year ago, I would have believed him.

Hell, he would have been telling the truth. I hit back at anyone who ever got close to me. I broke and stabbed and destroyed anyone who even tried.

I was broken. I had been stabbed. I was destroyed.

But now I stand my ground, my heartbeats calm and measured. “I’m here for what’s mine.”

Oliver pulls to a stop five paces away from me, laughing so loudly that his spittle flies across the space between us. “You’re here for what’s yours? And what do you think that could be?”

“My company. My life.”

He laughs even harder, but I don’t rise to the bait.

I consider how lined his face is, how wrinkled, but it’s not the lines that disgust me. It’s all the evil packed in between them.

If Peyton was here, she’d strike him down without giving him the chance to talk.

Again, my heart hurts at the thought of her, but my memories also give me strength. She fought for what she believed in. She gave everything for what was in her heart.

Well, I fucking will, too. But this time, I’m certain that I’m not alone.

Oliver’s laughter fades when I don’t respond with anger like I would have before.

“You’re serious,” he says, before he snarls a command at the guard with the gun. “Fill Striker’s body with bullets. Make him bleed.”

I’m done listening to Oliver.

Without a word, I wrap my arms around Zara and pull her to the side, pressing her face to my chest. “Don’t watch.”

“What?” Her voice is muffled against my shoulder, her body tense, but my hold is unyielding as I cradle her head against my chest, covering her eyes.

In the split second that I hear the guard aim his weapon at me, Seb darts in front of him. His claws have snapped down, and I catch sight of his bared and sharpened wolf’s teeth. Also, the fear in his eyes as he glances at Zara.

At that same moment, I raise my voice, clear and strong. “Oliver Draven, this is for murdering my mother.”

Oliver’s face is contorted in anger. He seems oblivious to the figure who appears behind him, a silent assassin. One of the most formidable.

Slade steps out of his blur, coming into view in the blink of an eye. He wraps his hand around the side of Oliver’s neck and releases his powerful wings.

Oliver doesn’t have time to shout.

Slade’s solemn eyes, flooded with silver, meet mine.

He gives me a somber nod as killing power flows through his body, an electric force that fills the air all around me, making my skin prickle. It’s a terrifying power, a force that should alarm me, but instead, I take comfort from it because I trust the man who controls it.

Zara freezes in my arms. Seb flinches. The human guard gapes and stumbles backward.

My stepfather’s eyes are already blank.

The final echoes of his curses and commands fade.

He will speak, think, and breathe no more.

Slade takes a firm hold of Oliver’s body before my stepfather hits the floor. Then he gives me another nod, and they both disappear.

The human guard appears to be in danger of shooting his weapon out of shock alone, the barrel wobbling dangerously between me and Seb.

“What the hell was that?” the guard shouts.

His exclamation confirms for me that this man probably doesn’t know anything about the supernatural world he serves, and a glance at Seb tells me that the claws and teeth he was revealing only moments before have disappeared. I doubt the human saw them.

Seb lurches forward, grabs the man’s arm, and swiftly disarms him. Then he turns back to me, and I take note of the way he hasn’t put the gun away.

“Who the fuck was that?” Seb growls.

Slade may be invisible again right now, but he won’t have left yet.

Without answering Seb’s question, I focus back on Zara.

Carefully, I release her from my hold, giving her the freedom to step away from me, but her hand closes around my arm, refusing to let me go.

She looks up at me, her lips trembling and tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks. “Father’s dead, isn’t he?”

I give her a single nod.

Pulling her gaze away from mine, she looks around the room. “Then I’m ready for my fate.” She raises her voice. “Slade Baines, I know you’re still here. I’m ready to pay for what I’ve done.”

Slade doesn’t reappear, and I keep my voice low as I speak to my sister. “You’re not dying today, Zara.”

She’s pale and wide-eyed. “I’m prepared for justice, Striker. You know I am.”

“You have a second chance, Zara.” I take her face in my hands. “Someone thought I was worth a second chance.” I pause as my heart squeezes again at the thought of Peyton. “I think you are, too. Prove me right. Okay?”

She swallows her tears, searching my eyes for a moment before she gives me a nod. “Okay.”

Her focus quickly flickers to the human guard who, while we were speaking, has veered back toward the elevator and is frantically reaching for the down button without taking his eyes off us.

Swiping the tears from her cheeks, Zara glides toward him, her hand snaking out before he can evade her. Her fingers close around his shoulder. “Be calm.”

Her power of compulsion fills the air as she speaks. It has no effect on me, but I take note of the way Seb steps further back from Zara. The person she’s touching will be most impacted, but he won’t want to experience any sort of memory wipe.

“My stepfather has been removed from his position,” Zara continues to the guard, who has relaxed completely.

“Striker Draven is now your boss. All is well, and you are safe. You will return to the first floor, open the front door, and hold it open for one minute. Then, you will lock the building down for the rest of the day. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” he replies, his facial features smooth and panic-free. “I’ll do my job.”

“Good.” Zara presses the button that the guard was reaching for so desperately only moments before.

I don’t miss the way she steps wide of the elevator doors.

None of us can sense Slade, but he will take this opportunity to leave.

When we planned for this day, Slade asked me if I wanted him to stay and help me deal with the board members. I’ve learned how to ask for help, and I trust Slade with my life, but I was also acutely conscious that Slade can only act if someone’s name is already written in his ledger.

I told him I could handle it. It’s something I need to do.

Now, even though he remains invisible, I’m certain he will have followed the guard into the elevator.

The doors close, but I’m not entirely on my own.

I turn to Seb. “You work for me now.” I focus briefly on the gun in his hand. “You don’t want to shoot your employer, do you?”

Seb looks at Zara, who tells him firmly, “It’s okay, Seb. Really. The only reason I’m still alive is because of Striker. He won’t let anything happen to me.”

Only then does Seb lower the weapon, but the worry in his eyes is clear to me and growing more intense as his gaze flickers in the direction of the boardroom.

The door had swung closed behind Oliver when he emerged.

But Seb’s wolfish senses must be telling him the same thing my own beast is warning me about: The board was already agitated, and they’re growing more so.

It will only be moments before they burst out of the room to see what’s going on—and not just because they will have sensed the magical energy out here.

Before Oliver interrupted her, Zara was saying something about a weapons cache being stolen and that it happened right here in New York. Only someone powerful or incredibly reckless would steal from Oliver in his own city.

I’m wary of what this means, but my first priority is to take control of the board members. They’re the immediate threat. Then, I can deal with whatever other dangers are evolving.

Zara follows my gaze to the closed door. “What will you do, Striker?”

I give her a grin, allowing my beast to rise for a moment, fully aware of the hellish impact he has on my facial features.

She has never seen my beast, and now she jolts backward. Stops. Then smiles at me.

“Good,” she whispers.

I don’t waste any more time, heading immediately toward the boardroom, aware of the way Seb and Zara step closer to each other behind me.

Without hesitation, I push open the door.