KNOX
Seeing her tip backward over the bridge, I moved on instinct. My hand shot out, clamping around her wrist. One sharp pull, and she collided with my chest.
Her breath was knocked out of her. Mine hitched for a different reason.
I felt something stir inside me, something I had spent years forcing down, and I shoved it back where it belonged. I looked down at the pale, trembling woman in my arms.
Six years.
Six years I had stalked her. I watched her from a distance. Broke into her room. Memorized every damned thing about her. That wasn't a werewolf instinct. That was my own twisted habit.
For six years, I had kept her identity hidden. For six years, I convinced myself she was innocent. Her father was the one who wronged him. She had no part in it. She shouldn't have to pay the price.
But he found out.
Her scent betrayed her, strong and unmistakable even though she was human. A smell like poison, burning slow and deep every time I was near her.
And now he wanted her.
I could not hide her anymore. Not without taking the hit meant for her. Not without facing his wrath myself.
"You sought out death, yet you're afraid to face it," I murmured, fighting the urge to brush her hair behind her ear.
"I…I…" she stuttered, her sea‑green eyes bright with unshed tears. "How did you move so fast? I almost fell over!"
"I was close enough to reach you." I shrugged—perks of being a werewolf.
She trembled, whispering, "Oh god," and for a moment she clutched my shirt like it was her only anchor. I let her hold on. Then she shoved away, pushing her hair off her face with shaking hands.
Her features twisted in pain, then something else flashed in her eyes. One hand clamped over her chest.
"It's because of you."
I went still.
"It's because of you I'm in this much pain!" she suddenly shouted, tears spilling as she jabbed a finger at me. "I don't know what you want from me. Why can't you just let me be invisible like I was?"
She shook her head, voice breaking. "You ruined my life. Completely. Riley won't spare me at school after this. He'll kill me. I lost my job. I'm about to be thrown out of my apartment. Everything keeps getting worse, and it's you. I hate you!"
Her rage shot through me, enough to make me shiver. My fingers curled, and I stepped toward her before freezing in place. I wanted to reach for her. To tell her it would get better. But I couldn't, not when every word she'd thrown at me was accurate.
I ruined everything for her. Her life had been quiet until I stepped into it. Yet none of it was truly my fault, and I couldn't even tell her how doomed she was now.
She scrubbed angrily at her tears, chest rising in shaky breaths, her eyes blown wide with fear and uncertainty. Something twisted hard inside me.
"Ole… Ivy," I murmured, inching closer.
"Stay the hell away from me!" she snapped. "I'll call the police if you don't."
I groaned and stopped. Not because her threat meant anything to me, but because I didn't want to push her any further toward panic.
I watched her stumble back, turn, and flee until the night swallowed her whole.
"Fuck, Knox."
The words tore out of me as I kicked the guardrail. Pain shot up my leg, but it was nothing compared to the one tearing through my chest.
I'd hurt her. And I knew I'd never forgive myself.
—
"Where did you go?!" Tessa exclaimed.
She leaned in, dark brown hair falling over her cheek as she inhaled deeply. Her nose wrinkled.
Shit.
I didn't mask Ivy's scent. I usually let it linger, but I hadn't expected Tessa to show up.
"You reek of human and… something else." Her brows knitted as she studied me. Then her expression hardened as I heard the purring of the engine outside. "He's here, Knox."
What does he want?
Twelve years. Twelve damned years since I last saw him. And even then, he only appeared long enough to dissect me like I was a defective weapon. After that, he left without a word. I stupidly thought that was it.
I thought he had vanished from my life for good. I thought he would never return. Not after all the atrocities he committed, not after the mental torture.
And yet, he believed he could walk back into my life as if nothing had happened.
Tessa might be thrilled. She always had that perfect father-daughter connection with him. The one he never gave me. I wasn't happy he was here.
The devil stepped into the room like he owned the air in it. His gaze swept across the space, snagging on everything, and then his nose wrinkled in disgust.
His eyes locked onto mine.
The disgust deepened. He never bothered to hide the hatred he had for me.
"Princess," he grinned, lifting his arms.
Tessa walked right into them.
"You look as beautiful as ever," he murmured against her hair.
"Thanks, daddy," she giggled like she was ten again.
I scoffed, heat already crawling up my spine. My hands curled into fists at my sides. "What do you want?"
His head finally snapped up, eyes locking with mine like I was just an afterthought. Typical. I wasn't expecting less. But this was my house.
"It's either you say what your mission is," I growled, "or get the fuck—"
"It's okay, Knox," Tessa cut in, stepping back from him.
She shot me a pleading look over her shoulder. I sucked in a breath through my teeth and let her speak.
"You never wrote to us that you were coming. It was out of the blue, and we didn't prepare anything." She said in a light voice, trying to ease the tension in the room.
Our father was human. The kind that didn't believe in monsters yet would become one the second he saw one. Tessa and I had inherited the werewolf gene from our mother, who spent her entire life hiding what she was from him. After she died, we promised we'd do the same.
Because if he ever found out? If any human like him found out?
He'd have us burned to ash in the name of "order."
Humans were the real monsters. History proved that. When they found something they didn't understand, they'd go on a witch hunt; they'd dissect it—weaponize it.
That's why the supernatural council brought up laws.
• Humans must not know
• Wolves must not expose their true self
• Any supernatural act that risks discovery must be covered up
• Any human who learns must be silenced, bound, or claimed.
Tessa turned to me, a nervous laugh bubbling past her lips. "That's amazing to hear. But how long do you plan to stay?"
"Until the next full moon. That's when the killings seem to spike," he answered.
"Oh, sweet!" Tessa squealed, a little too loudly. "That means I get to see you for a long time."
She was lying through her teeth.
She wasn't excited, especially not over things that placed her under scrutiny. She was a late bloomer, had only gotten her wolf a few months ago, and still couldn't control it. Every full moon, she lost it—completely. The last time, I had to chain her down myself. And even then, she'd nearly broken through. Now he was going to be around for all of that.
"I'll head to the kitchen to make dinner," she said, flashing him a tight smile.
He nodded once, already distracted by his phone.
She passed by me, leaned in close, her voice low and tense, clenched between her teeth. "I'm leaving, going to Ruth's. Anywhere but here. I'm not staying under the same roof with him."
"Thought you loved him," I said, sarcasm lacing every word.
She shot me a glare. "Not enough for him to find out his 'lovely, innocent daughter' has been shifting right under his nose. Who knows how many silver bullets he's carrying?"
"I could've sworn I was watching a sweet father-daughter reunion back there."
"Knox," she snapped.
"Whatever." I chuckled under my breath, then added, "Go wherever you want. I'll handle him."
Her expression shifted to concern. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I'll be fine," I said, sparing a glance at our father, now fully settled on the couch like he owned the place. It wasn't like I planned on entertaining him. And if he overstepped, I'd leave. I had the pack house. It was always an option.
"Don't call me for dinner. I've lost my appetite," I muttered.
Tessa nudged my shoulder lightly, a small laugh escaping her. "I'll bring it to your room."
I shrugged and walked off. I'd had enough for one night. Primarily because of her. Oleander.
Her presence always left me feeling full, as if she were the one thing in this twisted world that made sense.
An hour later, my phone rang. I reached for it on the nightstand, jaw tightening when I saw the name flashing on the screen.
"Alpha," I murmured.
Dante groaned from his side of the line, followed by a string of Italian expletives before he spoke.
"Where is she?"
"Home," I said flatly. "I'll bring her in at midnight."
"Good. She needs to be here by morning."
"Noted, Alpha." The line went dead.
I stared at the screen long after the call ended, my grip firm around the phone.
"I'm sorry, Oleander," I whispered.
You have no idea the nightmare you're about to walk into.