MAGNUS'S POV
Three Hours Earlier
The smell of death hits me before I even see the car.
Death, wolfsbane, and dark magic—a combination that makes my wolf snarl with rage. I shift back to human form behind a tree, pulling on the clothes I stashed earlier, and force myself to walk toward what's left of Dorian's vehicle.
It's wrapped around an oak tree like a crushed soda can.
"No," I whisper, even though I already know. My best friend's scent is everywhere, mixed with blood and that gods-damned wolfsbane poison. "No, no, no—"
I rip the driver's door off with my bare hands. Metal screams. Rain pours down, washing blood off the twisted metal, and there's so much blood—
Dorian's body is cold.
My Alpha—the man who saved me when I was a rage-filled nineteen-year-old ready to murder everyone who'd killed my parents. The man who taught me how to lead instead of destroy. My brother in everything but blood.
Gone.
My wolf howls inside my chest, wanting to tear the world apart. I punch the ground so hard my knuckles crack. The earth actually dents beneath my fist.
"I'm sorry," I choke out. "Dorian, I'm so sorry. I should've been faster. Should've known they'd come for you—"
My phone buzzes. Birthday reminder: Thea turns 23 at midnight. Dorian always calls.
My stomach drops.
Thea.
Gods, Thea doesn't know yet. She's probably sitting at home right now, waiting for her father to call like he does every year. Waiting for a call that will never come.
And worse—if they killed Dorian, they're going after her next.
I dial Cade. He answers on the first ring. "Boss? Did you find—"
"He's dead. Murdered. Wolfsbane and magic." I'm already running back to where I left my car, phone pressed to my ear. "Send half our pack to guard Thea's estate. NOW. And Cade—tell them if anyone gets within a hundred yards of her, kill first and ask questions never."
"On it. Magnus... I'm sorry about Dorian."
"Save it. Just protect his daughter."
I hang up and check the time. 11:52 PM. I should wait. Should send someone else to tell her. But Dorian's last words three days ago echo in my head:
"If anything happens to me, you tell her yourself. You owe me that much, brother. Promise me."
I'd promised. Just like I'd promised the other thing—the thing that's been slowly killing me for five years.
My hands shake as I dial Thea's number. The wolf inside me whines, excited just to hear her voice. I crush that feeling down hard. She's forbidden. Off-limits. Dorian made sure of that.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times—
"Dad! I thought—"
Her voice punches through me like a knife. Soft and hopeful and so damned young. She sounds exactly like she did at eighteen when I first realized what she was to me. What she could never be.
"Miss Corvain?" My voice comes out cold. Harsh. Good. Better she thinks I'm a monster than—
"Who is this? Where's my father?"
I close my eyes. This is going to destroy her.
"This is Magnus Ravencroft. I'm your father's business partner."
Silence. Then: "Why are you calling me? Where's my dad?"
Do it quick. Like ripping off a bandage.
"Miss Corvain, I need you to sit down."
"I'm fine standing. Where. Is. My. Father?"
Gods, she's stubborn. Just like Dorian.
"Your father is dead."
I hear something hit the floor. Hear her breathing speed up, getting panicked. My wolf claws at my control, desperate to go to her. To comfort our—
No. She's not ours. She can never be ours.
"No," she whispers. "No, that's not— He was supposed to call. He always calls."
Each word cracks something inside my chest, but I keep my voice flat. Emotionless. "There was an accident tonight. His car went off Cliffside Road near the lake. He died on impact. I'm sorry."
"You're lying. This is some sick joke—"
"I don't joke about death, Miss Corvain." Anger leaks into my voice. Anger at whoever did this. Anger at Dorian for dying. Anger at myself for not saving him. "Your father was my closest friend. I wish I was lying."
I hear her slide down to the floor, sobbing. Every sound is a knife in my gut. My wolf is going insane, howling and throwing itself against my control. Go to her. Comfort her. She needs us.
I grip the steering wheel so hard it cracks.
"I need you to listen carefully," I force out. "Your father's death wasn't an accident. Someone killed him. And now they're coming for you."
She argues. Of course she argues. But I don't have time for this. I can already smell other wolves in the area—rogues, probably sent by whoever orchestrated Dorian's murder. They're closing in on her estate.
I'm still two hours away.
"Pack a bag. Essentials only. I'm leaving now and I'll be at your estate in three hours." I press the gas pedal down. The engine roars. "Do not open the door for anyone except me. Do not call the police. Do not tell anyone what I've told you. Do you understand?"
She's panicking. Understandable. Her whole world just exploded.
"THEA." Her name tastes like agony on my tongue. Like everything I can't have. "Your father left very specific instructions for if anything happened to him. Instructions about keeping you safe. I made him a promise, and I intend to keep it. But you need to trust me."
"I don't even know you!"
"You don't have a choice. Pack light. I'm coming for you. You're not safe there anymore."
I hang up before I say something stupid. Before I tell her that I've been watching over her from the shadows for five years. That I know she likes to read on the garden bench at sunset. That she talks to herself when she bakes. That she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I can never, ever touch her.
Because three days ago, Dorian looked at me with dying eyes and said: "Magnus, I need you to swear something. The most important promise you'll ever make."
"Anything, brother."
"Protect Thea. With your life, with your pack, with everything you have." His hand gripped mine with surprising strength. "But never claim her. I know what she is to you. I've known since her eighteenth birthday when you came to visit and your wolf nearly lost control. I saw it in your eyes."
My blood had run cold. "Dorian—"
"She's your mate, isn't she?"
I couldn't lie to him. "Yes."
"Then you understand why you can never tell her. Never claim her." Dorian's eyes filled with tears. "If the bond completes, she'll be dragged into our world completely. She'll be a target forever. Every enemy I've ever made will come for her. Please, Magnus. Let her have a chance at a normal life. Swear you'll protect her but never claim her. Swear it on our brotherhood."
What else could I do? He was dying and he was asking me to save his daughter's life.
So I swore.
I swore to protect my mate while never being able to touch her. To love her from a distance while she lives her life not knowing what we could be. To slowly die inside as the rejected mate bond eats away at my soul.
But at least she'd be alive.
At least she'd be safe.
My phone buzzes. Cade: Boss, we've got a problem. The guards we sent to Thea's estate aren't responding. And we just intercepted a message—there's a hit out on her. Multiple teams already in position. You need to get there NOW.
I look at my speedometer. Already going ninety. I floor it.
The engine screams as I push it to one-twenty.
"Hold on, Thea," I growl. "Just hold on."
My wolf surges forward, lending me its strength. For once, we're in complete agreement: protect our mate, no matter the cost.
Even if she can never know what she is to me.
Even if it kills me.
My phone rings. Unknown number. I answer anyway.
A cold, female voice purrs through the speaker: "Alpha Ravencroft. I believe you're on your way to collect something that belongs to us."
"Who the hell is this?"
"Someone who's been waiting a very long time for Dorian Corvain's half-breed daughter to be unprotected." She laughs. "Did you really think killing Dorian would be the hard part? Oh, Magnus. We've had people inside her estate for years. The girl is probably already dead."
The line goes silent.
No. NO.
I push the car faster, engine smoking. My wolf is a caged hurricane inside my chest.
Two hours away.
She'll never survive two hours.
Unless—
My phone buzzes. Text from an unknown number. A video file.
I shouldn't look. Should keep my eyes on the road.
But I open it anyway.
The video shows Thea's kitchen. Shows her decorating cupcakes alone, looking sad and small and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Shows a man entering behind her with a gun.
The timestamp is from three minutes ago.
"NO!" I roar, throwing the phone.
I'm too far away. Too slow. Too—
Another text. This one from Thea's number: "Help."
That's it. Just one word.
But it's enough.
I close my eyes for one second and do something I haven't done since I was nineteen and broken: I pray.
Then I drive like the devil himself is chasing me.
Because if Thea dies tonight, he will be.