I should have felt trapped. That was the logical reaction. Everything about him was too fast, too absolute, too final.

But the bond didn’t give me space for logic. It pressed emotion into everything... fear, relief, heat, instinct... until nothing felt clean enough to separate. I didn’t know if I was being taken or chosen. Only that my body had stopped treating those two things as different.

I woke slowly, caught between sleep and something heavier, more aware. For a few seconds, I couldn’t figure out what felt different. Then it settled in.

The room wasn’t mine.

And I wasn’t alone.

The air carried a faint warmth, the kind of heat left behind by someone else’s presence, and it pressed against my skin like a warning. My eyes opened to sunlight spilling through tall windows, streaking across the floor in gold and white. The quiet hum of the morning should have been calming, but instead, it amplified the steady, unmistakable feeling of being watched.

Caspian lay beside me, propped on one elbow, his silver gaze fixed on my face as if he had been studying me every second of the night. His presence was overwhelming, more than just physical and it pressed on me through the bond, a constant pull that I was still learning to recognize and resist.

"How long have you been staring?" I asked, my voice rough from sleep, betraying the tight knot of tension in my chest.

"Long enough to know you don’t sleep well," he said calmly. "You were restless." 

"That’s not an answer," I muttered, squinting against the morning light.

A faint curve touched his mouth, just enough to hint at amusement. "Three hours," he admitted plainly, almost as if it were a fact and nothing more.

I blinked at him. “That’s… not normal.”

“No,” he agreed easily. “But neither is this.”

His hand rested lightly on my shoulder as I shifted, grounding me even as the ache in my muscles reminded me of the venom still working through my system. The lingering heat under my skin, the almost imperceptible hum of the bond deep in my chest and it all pressed together in a strange, unrelenting intensity that made me feel exposed, vulnerable, and inexplicably drawn to him all at once.

I tried to sit up.

Regretted it instantly.

A dull ache spread through my body, muscles stiff and sore as though every fiber of me had been rewoven overnight. Caspian’s hand pressed gently against my shoulder, steadying me before I could twist the wrong way.

"Easy. The venom’s still settling," he said, voice calm, measured, but with a note of possession that made the hairs on my neck rise.

"How long does that take?" I asked, forcing myself to breathe through the soreness, through the way my body seemed to tingle with anticipation and residual pain at the same time.

"A day or two." His thumb brushed absently along my collarbone, casual yet deliberate, every touch threaded with the quiet satisfaction he took in my recovery. "Then you’ll feel better than you ever have."

Stronger. Faster. Changed.

I felt it through the bond, a faint echo of his pride, his possessiveness, the pull toward me that refused to weaken even for a second. It was strange, disorienting, and intoxicating all at once. My chest tightened at the awareness of him, of his thoughts and emotions wrapped around mine, and I exhaled slowly.

Pushing myself up against the headboard this time, careful not to aggravate my muscles further, I murmured, "This is going to take some getting used to." 

"It won’t take as long as you think," he said.

There was a hardness in his gaze now, a subtle shift from calm to something darker, sharper. The bond responded immediately, a low, insistent pressure in my stomach that had nothing to do with pain.

I frowned at him. "Don’t start." 

"I haven’t done anything," he said, voice deceptively neutral.

"You’re thinking about it," I accused, voice uneven.

His expression didn’t change, but through the bond, I felt the truth before he spoke. "I’m always thinking about it." 

Heat crept up my neck despite myself. "We just woke up," I said weakly, trying to maintain some control.

"And?" His tone dropped just slightly, heavy with intent. "That’s never stopped me before." 

"That’s not reassuring," I said, though the warmth curling through me told a different story.

"It’s not meant to be," he said, and his hand moved, deliberate and slow, tracing from my shoulder with a precision that made my pulse spike. Not aggressive, not rushed, just… aware. Fully aware.

I tried to focus on the ache in my muscles, the dull throb of residual venom, but my body betrayed me. Every flicker of interest, every tiny reaction was mirrored back through the bond. It was too much, exposing more than I wanted him to see.

"There it is," he murmured, and I felt the shiver of his satisfaction.

"Stop narrating my reactions," I said, glaring at him though it accomplished nothing.

"Then stop reacting," he countered, tone teasing, controlled, impossibly dominant.

I exhaled sharply, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. The bond amplified every sensation, every pulse of heat, every subtle tightening of muscles. My chest rose and fell unevenly as the awareness of him settled deep inside me.

"This is the bond messing with my head," I muttered.

"It’s not just your head," he said, calm, steady, unyielding.

My phone vibrated on the counter. The one from yesterday that I’d completely forgotten existed.

Seventeen missed calls. All unknown numbers.

"Don’t answer those," Caspian said without looking up. "Marcus trying to reach you. Kieran’s friends. People you don’t want to talk to."

I put the phone down, but it immediately vibrated again.

This time with a text message.

Unknown: He can't protect you forever. 50 million is a lot of motivation. Sleep well, Rielle.

My blood turned cold.

Caspian was there in an instant, reading over my shoulder. His rage flooded through the bond... hot, violent, barely controlled.

"They're threatening you in my safe house." His voice was eerily calm. "They're actually that fucking stupid." 

"How did they even get my number?" 

"Marcus has resources." He grabbed his own phone, fingers flying. "But so do I."

His phone rang two seconds later. David’s voice came through the speaker, dry and amused. "They're getting bold." 

"Trace it," Caspian ordered.

"Already working on it. But Caspian... there's something else. Something you need to know." 

"What?" 

"Marcus put out a second bounty. Not for Rielle." David paused. "For you. Dead only. Hundred million." 

The kitchen went dead silent.

"He's trying to remove you from the equation," David continued. "Figures if you're dead, the bond breaks, Rielle's vulnerable again and someone else claims her." 

"The bond doesn't break with death" I said. "Caspian told me..." 

"It doesn't fully break. But it weakens. Enough that another lycan could claim her if they moved fast enough." David's tone turned grim. " Marcus is betting someone will take that risk for a hundred million."

Caspian's hand found mine, gripping tight. Through the bond, I felt his fury and something else.

Fear.

Not for himself. For me. For what would happen if he failed to protect me.

" How many takers? " Caspian asked.

"So far? Twelve confirmed. All high-level hunters. Some are lycans, which is the real problem. They know what they're up against."

"Names." 

David rattled them off. Each one made Caspian's jaw tighter.

"We're going hunting," Caspian said when David finished.

"Caspian..." 

"They want me dead? Fine. Let them try. But I'm not sitting here waiting for them to come to us." He looked at me. "You're staying here. Locked down. Full security."

"No." The word escaped before I could stop it."I'm not sitting here waiting to find out if you die." 

"Rielle..." 

"The bond goes both ways, remember?" My voice was shaking but I kept going. "If you're in danger, I feel it. If you get hurt, I feel it. If you die..." I couldn't finish that sentence."I'd rather be there. Fighting with you. Than sitting here feeling you die through the bond while I can't do anything about it."

Silence fell.

Then David’s voice: "She's right. The bond makes separation dangerous. If you go down, she'll feel it and be vulnerable here alone. Better to keep her with you."

Caspian looked at me for a long moment. "You understand what you're asking? I'm going to kill people today. Probably a lot of people. And you'll be there watching." 

"I watched yesterday." 

"That was self-defense. This is preemptive hunting." His eyes were solid silver now. "This is me being the monster everyone's afraid of."

Through the bond, I felt what he wasn't saying. He was worried I'd see him at his absolute worst and realize I'd made a huge mistake. That the claiming would start feeling like a trap instead of protection.

I stepped closer, put my hand over his heart. "I've already seen the monster. I let him bite me anyway. So show me what happens when someone's stupid enough to threaten what's yours."

His smile was all teeth and violence and dark promise.

"As you wish." 

Getting ready to hunt people who wanted us dead turned out to involve a lot more weapons than I expected.

David arrived an hour later with a duffel bag that looked like it could arm a small militia. He dumped it on the kitchen table and started pulling out guns, knives, and things I didn't even have names for.

"This is excessive," I said, staring at what looked like a small grenade.

"This is Tuesday." David started checking magazines with practiced efficiency. "Caspian attracts trouble like shit attracts flies. Better to be overprepared."

"Romantic," Caspian said dryly, strapping a knife to his thigh. "Really painting a beautiful picture of my life here."

"Your life is beautiful. Violent, but beautiful." David tossed me a handgun. "You know how to use that?"

I caught it awkwardly. "Not really."

"Safety's here. Point at what you want dead. Pull trigger. Try not to shoot Caspian or me." He went back to organizing weapons. "Pretty simple."

"She's not shooting anyone," Caspian said.

"The fuck I'm not." I checked the safety like David showed me. "You said I could come. I'm not coming just to watch."

Through the bond, I felt Caspian's conflict. Pride that I wanted to fight. Terror at the idea of me in danger. Possessive need to keep me safe wrapped up with grudging respect for my stubbornness.

"Fine," he said finally. "But you stay behind me. Always. You don't engage unless you absolutely have to. And if I tell you to run..."

"I'll consider it."

"Rielle..."

"I'll consider it," I repeated firmly. "That's the best you're getting."

David snorted. "I like her. She's got balls."

"She's going to get herself killed," Caspian muttered, but I felt his resignation through the bond. He knew he'd lost this argument.

Twenty minutes later, we were armed like we were invading a small country and loading into David's SUV. I sat in back, Caspian in front, both of them tense in that way men get when violence is coming.

"First target's closest," David said, pulling onto the road. "Lycan named Viktor Sokolov. Ex-military, specializes in close combat. He's holed up in a motel about forty minutes south."

"Alone?" Caspian asked.

"According to my sources. But you know how reliable that is."

"Extremely, since you're usually the source."

David smiled. "True."

The drive was quiet. I watched the scenery pass, trying to calm my racing heart. This morning I'd woken up sore and claimed. Now I was heading to watch my mate, and wasn't that a weird word, kill someone who wanted him dead.

My life had taken a sharp left turn into insanity.

"You're spiraling," Caspian said without turning around. "I can feel it."

"I'm processing."

"Process faster. We're almost there and I need you focused, not panicking." His hand reached back, found mine, squeezed. "You'll be fine. I've got you."

"I know." And weirdly, I did. I could feel his absolute certainty that he'd keep me safe. It should've been arrogant. Instead it was... comforting.

The motel was exactly as depressing as expected. Single story, crumbling parking lot, neon sign flickering with half the letters dead. Three cars in the lot, including what David identified as Viktor's rental.

"Room eight," David said, parking several spaces down. "Ground floor, back corner. One exit unless he goes through the window."

"He won't run." Caspian was already checking his gun. "Viktor's old-school. He'll fight."

"Good." David chambered a round. "I hate it when they run. Makes everything complicated."

We got out quietly. The sun was setting, painting everything in shades of orange and red that felt way too pretty for what we were about to do.

Caspian stopped me before we got close to the room. "Last chance. You can wait in the car."

"No."

"Rielle..."

"No." I checked my own gun, trying to look more confident than I felt. "I'm seeing this through."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then nodded once. "Stay behind me. Don't hesitate if you need to shoot. And whatever you see me do, remember that he'd do worse to you if he got the chance."

"Comforting."

"Honest." He kissed me hard and fast. "Let's go."

David took position on one side of the door, Caspian on the other. I pressed against the wall behind Caspian, heart hammering so loud I was sure everyone could hear it.

Caspian didn't knock. Just kicked the door in.

The room exploded into violence.

Viktor was massive, bigger than Caspian, built like a tank, covered in scars that told stories of decades of fighting. He'd been waiting, gun already raised.

He fired.

Caspian moved faster than I could track, the bullet missing by inches. Then he was on Viktor, both of them crashing into the shitty motel furniture.

It was brutal. Efficient. Caspian fought like something that had been killing for centuries, every move precise and devastating. Viktor was good, really good, but Caspian was better.

David stood in the doorway, gun raised, not interfering. Just making sure nobody ran.

I pressed against the wall, watching, trying not to throw up.

Caspian got Viktor on the ground, knee on his chest, hand around his throat.

"Marcus paying you the full hundred million?" Caspian asked conversationally. "Or did he lowball you?"

Viktor spat blood. "Fifty up front. Fifty on delivery."

"So he's cheap and you're stupid. Good combination." Caspian's grip tightened. "How many others did he hire?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"You will. Question is whether you tell me before or after I start breaking bones." Caspian looked up at David. "How much time do we have?"

"Someone probably heard the gunshot. Ten minutes, maybe."

"That's plenty." Caspian looked back down at Viktor. "Last chance. How many others?"

"Fuck you."

I heard the bone break before I saw it. Viktor's scream was immediate and agonizing.

"That was your collarbone," Caspian said calmly. "Next is your femur. That one hurts worse. How many others?"

Through the bond, I felt nothing from Caspian. No satisfaction in the torture. No remorse. Just cold calculation about the fastest way to get information.

This was supposed to have horrified me.

But, I felt my wolf stir with approval instead. This was our mate. Protecting us. Eliminating threats.

"Twelve," Viktor gasped. "Twelve including me. Marcus hired us all. Said you were distracted, easier to kill now that you had a weakness."

"Wrong." Caspian's voice dropped to something inhuman. "She's not my weakness. She's the reason I'm going to kill every single one of you."

"Wait!"

Caspian's hand moved and Viktor's neck snapped with a sound like breaking wood.

Silence fell.

Caspian stood, covered in blood again, breathing hard. His silver eyes found mine.

"You okay?" he asked.

"You just tortured him."

"I got information. Then I killed him. That's how this works." He crossed to me, bloody hands cupping my face. "Are you okay?"

Through the bond, I felt his genuine concern. He wasn't asking if I approved. He was asking if I could handle what I'd just witnessed.

"I'm okay," I said. And weirdly, I was. "He would've killed you."

"Yeah." Caspian kissed my forehead, leaving a smear of blood. "He would've. Now he won't. Eleven more to go."

"We should move," David said from the doorway. "I'm hearing sirens."

We left the motel quickly, piling back into the SUV. David drove away at normal speed, nothing suspicious, just three people leaving a shitty motel at sunset.

"That went well," David observed.

"Viktor was sloppy. The others won't be." Caspian was texting rapidly. "I'm sending the list to my contacts. Let's see who else we can track down tonight."

"Tonight?" I asked. "We're doing this all tonight?"

"We're doing as many as we can before they realize we're hunting them." Caspian looked back at me. "The element of surprise only works once. After Viktor doesn't check in, the rest will go to ground."

"So we kill as many as possible while they're still cocky," David finished. "Smart."

"Efficient," Caspian corrected. "Smart would've been Marcus not putting a bounty on me in the first place."

His phone vibrated. He read the message and smiled. "Got another location. Lycan named Alexei Petrov. Staying at a penthouse downtown. Thinks money buys safety."

"Does it?" I asked.

"Not from me." Caspian's smile was all teeth. "Not from us."

The way he said "us", like we were a unit, a team, partners in this hunt, sent something warm through the bond.

We were in this together.

For better or worse.

Probably worse, given the body count we were racking up.

But together.

And as David drove toward downtown, toward the next name on the list, I realized something that should've terrified me.

I was okay with this.

With the violence. With the blood. With becoming the kind of person who watched her mate break bones to get information and didn't even flinch.

The claiming had changed more than just my biology, it had changed who I was.

And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.