I discovered that my guardian, the man I secretly adored, isn't human. He's a devastatingly handsome werewolf. When I found out his secret, he chained me by the ankle. I leaned in close, pleading, "Brother? Guardian? Dad? Please, just let me go..." He loomed over me, a dangerous glint in his wolfish eyes. "The best way to keep a secret," he whispered, "is to turn the keeper into one of two things: dust... or family." I caught on immediately: "Okay, I get it! But can we maybe... try it out first?" 1 The night draped itself over the estate of my guardian, Alaric Thorne, like a shroud of damp, cold velvet. He had me cradled in his arms before the hearth, his voice a low thrum against my back, like the deep notes of a cello. The warmth of the moment felt potent enough to melt stone. My heart was a frantic bird trapped in the cage of my ribs. But then I tilted my head back, and my breath caught. Reflected in his eyes, flickering in the firelight, was a haunting, amber glow. My gaze shifted slightly, and there, behind him, a massive, thick-furred gray wolf’s tail unfurled from the shadows. A scream clawed its way up my throat, but an invisible pressure clamped it shut. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, and I jolted awake. It was a dream. But it had been so vivid I could still trace the chilling curve of his fangs in my mind. Once my pulse settled into a less frantic rhythm, I slipped out of bed, needing the cool water of the washroom. The stone floor was icy against my bare soles. I’ve never liked slippers, and the chill was a welcome shock. Tonight, the oak door at the far end of the hall was unlocked. A weak, trembling sliver of candlelight seeped from beneath it, painting a quivering line on the floorboards. That room. The one Alaric had forbidden me from ever approaching. In the dead of night, curiosity is a vine that snakes around your reason and squeezes. After a moment’s hesitation, I crept forward, my bare feet making no sound on the cold stone. At the threshold, I peered inside. The sight froze the blood in my veins. I stared, my teeth chattering uncontrollably, at Alaric. The man who took me in, the lord of the manor I secretly adored, was kneeling in a posture that wasn't human. He was before the enormous stained-glass window, moonlight pouring through it, bathing him in a silver glow. And in that ethereal light, his body was contorting, elongating—transforming into a colossal gray wolf. 2 I knew, with sickening certainty, that the wolf was Alaric. Last summer, by the lake, I’d caught a glimpse of him swimming. On his back was an old, crescent-shaped scar, like a sliver of a broken moon. And now, on the identical spot on the gray wolf’s powerful back… was the same exact scar. I swallowed hard, my body screaming to run, but my limbs were stone. My hand fumbled, bumping against the iron door ring. Creeeak. The ancient wood groaned, a sound that echoed like a death knell in the silent hall. Instantly, the great wolf’s head snapped around. Its eyes met mine. Amber, glowing, and utterly feral. Exactly like in my dream. A deep, bone-rattling chill shot up my spine. I spun to flee, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor in a heap. I watched, paralyzed, as the wolf’s form seemed to shrink and fold in on itself in the shadows, melting back into the handsome, severe features of Alaric. God, how pathetic. Even then, with my life on the line, my heart still stuttered for that face. And then—he chained me by the ankle, a prisoner in my own bedroom. 3 The candlelight overhead was dim, casting long, dancing shadows. I leaned against the headboard, the chain on my ankle a cold, heavy weight. Alaric stood over me, his presence filling the room. From this angle, his brow was severe, his features carved as if from granite. Even in the oppressive gloom, he was flawlessly, dangerously beautiful. But he wasn't human. The tension was so thick it was making me physically uncomfortable. “Alaric…” That’s what I’d always called him. Just Alaric. “I need to use the washroom.” He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a cruel smirk. He let a single word drop into the silence. “Hold it.” …So werewolves really were monsters. After a beat of silence, I leaned forward, pitching my voice to its softest, most placating tone. “Brother? Guardian? Dad? Please, just let me go…” For the first time, a real smile touched Alaric’s lips. He leaned down, his face suddenly inches from mine, so close my breath hitched. “The best way to keep a secret, Eliza,” he whispered, his breath like a winter wind, “is to turn the keeper into one of two things: dust… or family.” I caught on immediately. “Okay, Dad! I get it!” Alaric’s brow arched, a flicker of something dangerously playful in those wolfish eyes. It made him even more magnetic. “Did it ever occur to you,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, “that I was referring to… my mate?” Mate? I swallowed against a dry throat. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “An interspecies union… we couldn’t even have children.” My words seemed to amuse him. “Who said?” He leaned closer still, his lips almost brushing my ear. “Want to try?” 4 Honestly, for a split second, I was tempted. But then I met those eyes again, and the image of that powerful, wild wolf’s tail under the moonlight flashed in my mind. A shiver traced its way down my spine. “Alaric, trying or not, I really can’t hold it any longer…” The curve of his lips deepened. “Hmm,” he mused, “that does sound… more interesting.” …I was completely lost. Was this really the same man who was usually as cold and remote as a mountain peak? My shock must have been written all over my face, because in the end, he didn’t push it. He lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. The chain on my ankle clicked open. “Go.” Granted a reprieve, I practically scrambled off the bed. As I sat in the washroom, I was calculating whether a jump from the second-story stained-glass window would result in a broken leg or a broken neck when Alaric’s voice materialized right behind me. “You could try.” I whipped my head around to find him impossibly close, a ghost who’d appeared without a sound. His eyes were dancing with amusement. “Thinking of running?” I shook my head frantically, but before I could form a denial, he cut me off. “Jump.” He grabbed me by the collar of my nightgown and hauled me to the open window. “Try it.” The night air was cool on my face, but as I reached out, my hand hit something solid and invisible, like a pane of glass. I looked back at him, confused. Alaric just raised an eyebrow. “I put up a ward.” …So, just telling me that in the first place would have killed you? We were at a standoff by the window in the dead of night. I licked my dry lips, trying to pledge my allegiance. “Alaric, you have my word. I will never tell anyone.” It was useless. He dragged me back to the bed. Dangling from his grip, I couldn't help but think: werewolves are ridiculously strong. He tossed me onto the mattress, and his body followed, hovering over me. His breath was hot on my skin. This was it… was he really going to try? I squeezed my eyes shut, a wave of shame and anticipation washing over me. But the touch I was bracing for never came. Instead, a woman’s voice drifted up from the courtyard below, musical and seductive. “Alaric…” My eyes flew open. I saw the playful look vanish from his face, replaced in an instant by a cool mask. He moved to the window. “Stay here. I’m coming down.” The tenderness in his voice was a tone I had never, ever heard from him before. He shot one last glance at me, then turned and was gone. I recognized that voice. It belonged to a countess from Alaric’s circle, one of his own kind. She was also the woman who had publicly rejected his advances months ago. I sat on the edge of the bed, a leaden weight settling in my chest. Damn it. I was actually jealous over a goddamn werewolf. 5 I decided werewolves must be cold-blooded creatures. He went off for a midnight rendezvous with the countess and left me locked in my room. No phone. No laptop. The door wouldn't budge, and the window was a lie. This was a nightmare. I forced myself to fall asleep by counting the ornate plaster details on the ceiling, but my dreams were a chaotic mess of Alaric and that enormous wolf tail. In the morning, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring into space. Alaric hadn’t come back all night. It was over. He was captivated by her. That bastard. One minute he’s talking about making me his mate, the next he’s running off to someone else. I sighed, my eyes landing on the grandfather clock against the wall. Suddenly, I shot to my feet. It was nine forty-five. I’d completely forgotten. I had an arrangement to meet an old acquaintance today at ten. His name was Caleb. A friend I knew from before Alaric took me in. We were supposed to meet right at the estate gates. A surge of adrenaline hit me, and I started pacing. Caleb… he was a little unusual. I’d heard rumors his family belonged to an ancient line of hunters. My escape today depended entirely on him. As if on cue, a voice faintly called from the courtyard. “Eliza?” I rushed to the window and looked down. Sure enough, a man was standing at the gates, tall and well-built. I couldn’t make out his face from this distance. “Caleb! I’m up here!” I yelled, my voice cracking with desperation. He seemed to pause for a second, then I saw the flash of a smile. “Why climb when there’s a perfectly good gate?” And with that, he pushed open the heavy iron gates, strode through the courtyard, opened the manor’s main door, and then… my bedroom door swung open with a gentle click. I stood there, gaping. Was Alaric’s ward that weak, or was this hunter that skilled? I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Caleb was standing right in front of me. The boy I’d passed a love note to in our teens, only to be shot down with the excuse that “the pursuit of truth leaves no room for childish romance.” I hadn't seen him in a year. It seemed he’d really committed to that path. Our eyes met. I swallowed. “You… I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Caleb tilted his head, his expression as earnest and straightforward as ever. “I said I would.” 6 There was no time for catching up. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the doorway. “Caleb, break it!” He tilted his head again. “Break what?” “The ward! The barrier!” His next words almost made me choke. “There’s a ward here?” If there wasn’t a ward, I would have been gone hours ago! He must have seen the frantic seriousness in my eyes, because he stepped cautiously toward the threshold and took one slow step forward— He was thrown back as if he’d hit a trampoline, flying backward and crashing into me, sending us both sprawling to the floor by the bed. After shoving him off me, I scrambled up, frustrated beyond belief. “Caleb, you told me you were dedicating your life to the ‘truth,’ and this is all you’ve got?” Caleb helped me to my feet, his gaze sincere. “I’m the most promising new recruit in my organization.” …What kind of sham organization was he in? Before I could say anything, Caleb’s expression shifted. “He’s back.” “Who?” He gave me a complicated look. “Your father.” My father? I opened my mouth to say my father had been dead for years, then remembered what I’d desperately called Alaric just last night. Oh, great. How did Caleb know what I’d said? I didn’t have time to ask. I heard footsteps in the hall. Deliberate. Heavy. Each one seemed to land directly on my heart. And there was another sound… something heavy being dragged across the floor. My nerves screamed. What was I going to tell Alaric? How would I explain Caleb’s presence? But Alaric was impossibly fast. Before I could invent a lie, his figure filled the open doorway. Alaric. He was dressed in a dark, formal suit, looking impeccably sharp for a man who was secretly a wolf. His gaze flickered over me for a second before landing squarely on Caleb. “Who is he?” Alaric’s voice… was terrifyingly cold. I was trying to decide whether to make up the name of an impressive-sounding hunter organization to intimidate him when Caleb spoke first. “I’m the guy she hired to piss you off.” I froze. What?? This guy wasn't just useless, he was suicidal. To avoid getting an innocent hunter killed, I had no choice but to nod. “Right, I, uh… hired him.” Alaric didn’t say a word. He just crooked a finger at me. “Come here.” I shuffled forward slowly. My obedience wasn't because I was mesmerized by his face, but because I was utterly, completely terrified. When I reached the doorway, Alaric’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. He pulled, and I passed through the invisible barrier without any resistance at all. He dragged me to the bedroom next door—his room. He pushed the door open, and I gasped, sucking in a breath of frigid air. There was a woman on the bed. A woman bound hand and foot, completely naked, her head turned away from me. I couldn’t see her face. So that’s what he’d been dragging… a living person. Alaric gave me a shove from behind. I stumbled toward the bed. A moment later, a dagger clattered onto the floor at my feet, its blade gleaming with a sinister light. Alaric’s voice came from behind me, low and menacing. “Kill her, and I’ll let you go.” My knees felt weak. This day just kept getting worse. After a long moment, I managed a shaky laugh. “Alaric, this isn’t funny…” He took one step. I swear, it was only one step, but he moved from the doorway to right behind me in a blink. The next thing I knew, his hand was wrapped around my neck. His breath was cold, and the warmth was gone from his eyes, replaced by a chilling darkness. “Eliza. Kill her, or I kill you. Make a choice.”
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