The coffee tasted like ash in my mouth. I set the mug down too hard; it clinked against the marble island like an accusation. Damian watched me from across the counter, arms braced, every line of his body coiled like he was already mid-shift. The penthouse felt smaller suddenly, the city skyline pressing in through the glass like a thousand judging eyes.

"He's really here," I said. Not a question. The words just fell out.

Damian nodded once. "Private jet. Landed at Murtala Muhammed an hour ago. My contact at the airport flagged it. He's got four enforcers with him-standard Silvermoon muscle. No heavy weapons on the manifest, but that doesn't mean shit in our world."

I rubbed my temples. Headache blooming behind my eyes. "He'll want to see them. The kids. He'll push the pack law angle-blood heirs, alpha lineage. He won't back off easy."

"Let him push." Damian's voice was low, almost conversational. But his eyes had gone wolf-gold at the edges. "He steps one foot wrong in my territory, and Eclipse will remind him why no one crosses the Blackwood line."

I looked at him-really looked. The billionaire facade was cracking; underneath was pure predator. Tattoos peeking from his rolled sleeves: pack runes, old scars that told stories of fights I hadn't asked about yet. Mafia whispers made sense now. Not just money and power. Control. The kind that came with bodies if necessary.

"You don't have to do this," I said quietly. "This isn't your fight."

He rounded the island in two strides. Stopped just short of touching me. Close enough I could feel the heat rolling off him. "It became my fight the second the bond snapped. You think I give a damn about pack politics or old debts? You're mine, Elara. That makes your children mine to protect. End of discussion."

My breath caught. Mine. The word should have terrified me after Ryder. Instead it settled somewhere deep, warm and dangerous. My wolf stretched lazily inside me, approving. Traitor.

Before I could argue, my phone buzzed on the counter. Damian had handed it back after turning it off last night. Now the screen lit up with Ryder's name again. A text this time.

Neutral ground. The old warehouse district off Apapa-Oshodi. Noon. Bring the kids or I bring the pack. We talk like civilized wolves.

I stared at the words until they blurred. Damian read over my shoulder, body going rigid.

"He's bluffing," he said. "He doesn't have the numbers here. Lagos is Eclipse turf. Silvermoon has no foothold."

"But he knows where I live. Or suspects." Panic clawed up my throat. "Maria has them today. If he-"

"He won't touch them." Damian took the phone, thumbed a quick reply without asking: She'll be there. Alone. No pups. You try anything, you don't walk away.

He hit send. My stomach dropped.

"You just poked the bear," I whispered.

"Good. Let him bleed first."

The warehouse district smelled like rust, salt from the lagoon, and old oil. Noon sun beat down mercilessly, turning the cracked concrete into a griddle. I stood in the shadow of a derelict shipping container, arms wrapped around myself despite the heat. Damian had wanted to come. I'd refused. This was my ghost to face. But he'd insisted on eyes everywhere-his men in plainclothes on rooftops, snipers with tranqs loaded with wolfsbane derivative. "Just in case," he'd said, kissing my forehead like it was normal. Like we were already something solid.

Ryder appeared right on time. Alone, like promised. But the arrogance rolled off him in waves. Same dark hair, same gray eyes that used to make me melt. Now they just made me sick.

He stopped ten feet away. Looked me up and down like appraising damaged goods.

"You look... different," he said. Voice smooth. Too smooth.

"Three kids will do that." I kept my tone flat. No emotion. He didn't deserve any.

His jaw tightened. "Where are they?"

"Safe. Away from you."

"Elara." He stepped closer. I didn't flinch. "They're mine. Alpha blood. The pack needs heirs. Lila-"

"Don't." The word cracked like a whip. "Don't say her name. You lost the right when you fucked her in our bed."

He exhaled through his nose. "I never stopped caring. The bond with Lila... it was fate. Stronger than what we had."

"What we had was a lie. You sold me the dream while you were already looking elsewhere."

He rubbed the back of his neck. Classic Ryder tell-uncomfortable but not sorry. "I want to see them. Just see. Then we can negotiate custody. Visits. Pack training when they're old enough."

"Negotiate?" I laughed, sharp and ugly. "You think you get to negotiate after you divorced me publicly? After you let the pack whisper I was barren? Weak? You threw me away, Ryder. I built a life without you. They don't need you."

His eyes flashed. "They need a pack. A real one. Not whatever human scraps you've been feeding them in this city."

Anger surged, hot and bright. My wolf snarled inside, claws scraping bone. "They're happy. Healthy. Shifting already-controlled, careful. They're mine."

"Ours." He corrected softly. Almost gentle. "Come home, Elara. Bring them. I'll make it right. Divorce Lila if I have to. The bond-"

"The bond broke when you chose her." My voice shook. "And there's someone else now."

He froze. "Who?"

Before I could answer, tires screeched. Black SUVs rolled in from both ends of the street-Eclipse markings subtle on the plates. Doors opened. Damian stepped out first, flanked by six wolves in human skin. All business. All lethal.

Ryder's posture shifted instantly-alpha to alpha. Hackles invisible but raised.

"Blackwood," he growled. "This is between me and my ex-Luna."

Damian walked forward slow, deliberate. Stopped beside me. His hand settled on the small of my back-possessive, steadying. Heat seeped through my shirt.

"Not anymore," Damian said. Voice calm. Deadly calm. "She's Eclipse now. Under my protection. The children too."

Ryder's gaze flicked between us. Then to Damian's hand. Understanding dawned. Ugly. "Fated?"

Damian smiled. No warmth. "The moon doesn't lie."

Ryder laughed once-harsh. "You think you can just claim what's mine?"

"She's not yours." Damian's fingers flexed against my spine. "She never really was. You had her on paper. On pity. I have her by fate."

Tension crackled. Wolves on both sides shifted weight, ready.

Ryder looked at me. Really looked. Searching for the girl who'd once loved him blindly.

I met his eyes. Held them. "Go home, Ryder. Tell Lila the heirs she couldn't give you? They're thriving without you. And if you come near my family again, you'll deal with him." I nodded toward Damian. "And me."

Ryder's face twisted-anger, regret, something darker. "This isn't over."

"It is for today," Damian said. "Leave. While you still can."

Ryder held my gaze a beat longer. Then turned. Walked back to his car. The engine roared. They peeled out.

Silence fell. Heavy. Electric.

Damian's hand slid up to cup my neck. Thumb under my jaw, tilting my face to his.

"You okay?" Soft. Only for me.

I nodded. Tears burned but didn't fall. "Yeah. I think so."

He kissed me then-right there in the open, under the brutal sun. Claiming. Reassuring. His lips tasted like victory and promise. I kissed back, hands fisting his shirt, pouring everything into it: fear, relief, the first fragile threads of something new.

When we broke apart, foreheads touching, he murmured, "Let's go get our kids."

Our.

The word echoed. Scary. Beautiful.

Back at the penthouse, Maria brought them up. Asher barreled in first-six years old going on alpha already-tackling my legs. "Mama! We made cookies! Maria said they're ugly but yummy!"

Kai followed quieter, clutching a drawing. Aria last, thumb in mouth, eyeing Damian suspiciously.

I knelt, gathered them close. Their scents-milk, crayons, wildness-grounded me.

"Guys," I said, voice thick. "This is Damian. He's... a friend. A special friend."

Asher squinted up. "He smells like wolf. Strong wolf."

Damian's lips twitched. He crouched to their level. "That's because I am. And you three? You smell like trouble. The good kind."

Kai tilted his head. "Are you gonna be our new daddy?"

The room stilled.

I froze. Damian didn't. He looked at me first-asking permission with his eyes.

I swallowed. Nodded once. Tiny. Terrified. Hopeful.

Damian smiled-real this time. Soft. "If your mama says yes... yeah. I'd like that very much."

Aria reached out suddenly. Touched his hand. "You have big paws when you shift?"

He laughed low. "Biggest in Lagos."

She beamed. "Cool."

They swarmed him then-questions, touches, chaos. He let them climb like he was built for it. Patient. Gentle.

I watched from the couch, heart too full. Too scared. Too alive.

Later, when the kids were napping in the guest room (Damian had a whole nursery suite ready-don't ask how fast his people worked), he found me on the balcony. City lights glittering below.

He wrapped arms around me from behind. Chin on my shoulder.

"They're perfect," he said.

"They are." I leaned back into him. "But Ryder won't stop. Not forever."

"Then we'll be ready." His lips brushed my neck. Sparks everywhere. "Tonight, though? Just us."

Heat flared. The bond hummed approval.

I turned in his arms. Looked up. "Show me what fated really means."

His growl vibrated through me. Then his mouth crashed down.

We stumbled inside. Clothes shed like old skin. His hands everywhere-reverent, hungry. My back hit the wall; he lifted me like I weighed nothing. Legs wrapped around his waist.

"Elara," he breathed against my throat. "Mine."

"Yours," I gasped.

And for the first time since the rain, I believed it.

He carried me to his bed. Laid me down like something precious. Kissed every scar-literal and not. Worshipped until I was shaking, begging.

When he finally slid inside, slow, deep, the bond exploded-colors behind my eyes, souls tangling. We moved together like we'd done this a thousand lives.

After, tangled in sheets, his heartbeat under my cheek, he whispered, "No more running."

"No more," I agreed.

But in the quiet, a howl echoed distant-Ryder? Or warning?

Trouble wasn't done.

It was just getting started.

The sheets were still warm when I woke. Damian's side of the bed was empty, but his scent clung to the pillow-dark, grounding, like cedar smoke after rain. I stretched, muscles deliciously sore in places I'd forgotten could feel that way. Last night had been... more than sex. It was claiming. Surrender. Rebuilding. Every touch had felt like he was erasing Ryder's ghost one layer at a time.

I rolled over, glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 7:14 a.m. The penthouse was quiet except for the distant hum of the city waking up below. No kid chaos yet. Maria had taken them to the indoor play area Damian had somehow magicked into existence on the 42nd floor overnight-complete with climbing walls, foam pits, and a nanny who doubled as a beta enforcer. "Safety first," he'd said last night with that half-smile that made my knees weak. I still wasn't used to someone handling logistics like my children were already his priority.

I slipped into one of his shirts-black, soft, swallowing me whole-and padded barefoot down the hallway. The living area smelled like fresh coffee and something savory. Bacon. My stomach growled.

Damian stood at the island, back to me, phone pressed to his ear. Shirtless. Sweatpants slung low. The tattoos on his back rippled as he moved-pack sigils, crescent moons, a jagged scar that looked like it came from silver claws. Mafia ink mixed with wolf tradition. Dangerous poetry.

"...double the watch on the Apapa route. If Silvermoon tries to move product through our docks again, sink the damn shipment. Non-lethal if possible. I don't want a war yet." Pause. "Yet."

He ended the call, set the phone down. Turned. Saw me. His eyes darkened instantly-pupils blowing wide.

"Morning," I said, suddenly shy in his oversized shirt and nothing else.

He crossed the room in three strides. Didn't speak. Just cupped my face and kissed me like we hadn't spent hours tangled together last night. Slow. Deep. Possessive. When he pulled back, his thumb traced my swollen bottom lip.

"You look good in my clothes," he murmured.

"Borrowed. Not stealing."

"Keep it. Looks better on you." He kissed my forehead, then my temple, then the corner of my mouth. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

He grinned-real, boyish for a second-then steered me to the island. Two plates waited: scrambled eggs, bacon, avocado toast, fresh mango slices. Simple. Thoughtful.

I slid onto a stool. He stood between my knees while I ate, one hand on my thigh, thumb stroking lazy circles through the fabric. Domestic. Dangerous. My heart kept tripping over itself.

"Where are the kids?" I asked between bites.

"Downstairs. Playing. Guarded. Happy." He watched me eat like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "Asher challenged one of my betas to a staring contest. Lost. Kai built a fort out of couch cushions taller than he is. Aria... she just sits on top and declares herself queen."

I laughed softly. "That tracks."

He leaned in, kissed the corner of my mouth where mango juice lingered. "They're safe here, Elara. Always."

The words settled heavy. Safe. I hadn't felt that in years.

Then his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen. Face hardened.

"What?" I asked.

"Ryder didn't leave Lagos." He scrolled. "He's holed up at the Eko Hotel. Meeting with someone. My guy says it's not pack. Human. Expensive suit. Briefcase. Smells like lawyer... or worse."

My fork paused halfway to my mouth. "Worse how?"

"Could be a fixer. Could be someone who knows how to make problems disappear-legally or otherwise." Damian's jaw worked. "Or he's trying to buy information. Birth records. School enrollment. Anything to prove paternity and force a custody play."

Ice slid down my spine. "He can't take them. He doesn't even know them."

"He doesn't need to know them. He just needs the law on his side. Human courts love biological fathers with money and clean records. And pack law..." Damian exhaled. "If he drags this to the Council of Alphas, they'll side with blood lineage. Especially with no official rejection mark on you."

I set the fork down. Hands shaking. "I never got marked. The marriage was human-paper only. He never bit me."

Damian's eyes flared. "Good. That makes it cleaner. No mate bond to unravel. But it also means the triplets are technically unclaimed. Vulnerable."

I stood. Paced. "I need to get them out of here. Somewhere he can't trace."

"No." Damian caught my wrist-gentle but firm. Pulled me back between his legs. "Running again isn't the answer. He'll follow. He's already here. We end this on our terms."

"Our terms?" I searched his face. "What does that even mean?"

He was quiet a moment. Then: "It means I stop playing nice."

The words hung. Mafia undertone thick.

"You're going to... what? Threaten him? Hurt him?"

"If he forces my hand." No apology in his voice. "I protect what's mine. Always have."

I swallowed. Part of me recoiled-the human part that still believed in laws and fairness. The wolf part? She bared teeth. Liked the ruthlessness.

"I don't want blood on my hands," I whispered.

"Then let me carry it." He brushed hair from my face. "You focus on the kids. On us. Let me handle the shadows."

Us.

The word was a lifeline and a chain at the same time.

Before I could answer, the elevator dinged.

Maria stepped out, holding Aria on her hip. Asher and Kai trailed behind, sticky with what looked like jam.

"Mama!" Asher yelled, running straight into my legs. "They have a slide! Inside!"

Kai held up a half-eaten pancake on a stick. "They made us breakfast tacos. With extra cheese."

Aria reached for me. I took her, buried my face in her curls. She smelled like baby shampoo and sunshine.

Damian crouched. "Hey, troublemakers. Have fun?"

Asher nodded vigorously. "Your friends are big. Like giants. But nice."

Kai studied Damian. "You're gonna keep us safe, right? From the bad wolf?"

My breath caught. They knew. Somehow, even at six, they sensed the threat.

Damian met Kai's serious gaze. "Yeah, kid. I'm gonna keep all of you safe. Promise."

Kai nodded once-like a tiny soldier accepting orders-then hugged Damian's leg.

Something cracked open in my chest. Wide. Painful. Beautiful.

Then Damian's phone rang again. He glanced. Stood slowly.

"Stay here," he told me. Stepped into the hallway. Closed the glass door behind him.

I couldn't hear the words, but I saw his face change. From calm to lethal in seconds.

When he came back, eyes gold-rimmed.

"Ryder just filed an emergency custody petition. Lagos High Court. Claims abandonment. Emotional neglect. Unfit environment. He's asking for immediate temporary custody pending DNA and pack verification."

My knees buckled. Damian caught me.

"He's using the human system?" I choked. "He hates humans."

"He's desperate." Damian's voice was ice. "And he's got a high-priced Lagos lawyer who knows exactly which judges owe favors."

I clutched Aria tighter. Asher and Kai pressed against my legs, sensing the shift.

"What do we do?" I whispered.

Damian pulled out his phone again. Already dialing.

"We fight fire with bigger fire." He looked at me-eyes steady, deadly. "My legal team's on it. Injunctions. Countersuits. Character witnesses. And if the court leans his way..."

He didn't finish.

But I knew.

Eclipse didn't lose territory. Or family.

He ended the call. Turned to the kids.

"Hey, how about we go see the rooftop pool? Private one. Just us."

Asher's eyes lit up. "With slides?"

"With everything."

They cheered. Maria herded them toward the elevator.

Damian turned back to me. Pulled me into his arms. Held tight.

"No one's taking them," he said against my hair. "No one's taking you."

I believed him.

Because the man holding me wasn't just an alpha anymore.

He was a storm wearing a suit.

And storms don't negotiate.

They destroy.

Later that night, after the kids were asleep in their new rooms-walls painted soft blue, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, stuffed wolves on every bed-I found Damian in his office.

Glass walls. City lights bleeding through.

He stood at the window, sleeves rolled up, glass of whiskey in hand.

I walked up behind him. Slid my arms around his waist. Pressed my cheek to his back.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He set the glass down. Turned. Lifted me onto the desk. Stepped between my thighs.

"Don't thank me yet." His hands slid under the shirt-my shirt now-palms hot on my skin. "This is just beginning."

I kissed him. Hard. Hungry. Needing to feel something other than fear.

He groaned. Lifted me again. Carried me to the leather couch.

Clothes disappeared fast.

This time wasn't gentle.

It was desperate. Claiming. Reassuring.

He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand. The other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise.

"Say it," he growled against my throat.

"Yours."

"Louder."

"Yours, Damian. All yours."

He thrust deep. Once. Twice. Held.

The bond roared-white-hot, unbreakable.

When we shattered together, I cried his name like a prayer.

Afterward, sweat-slick and tangled, he traced the curve of my spine.

"If Ryder wants war," he murmured, "he's going to get one he can't win."

I pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

"Then let's make sure he never forgets who he's dealing with."

Outside, the city pulsed.

Somewhere in it, Ryder was plotting.

But here-in this tower of glass and shadows-we were building something stronger.

A family.

A fortress.

A future.

And if blood had to paint the path to keep it?

So be it.

The courtroom smelled like old paper, cheap cologne, and barely contained rage.

I sat rigid on the hard wooden bench behind the plaintiff's table, hands folded so tight my knuckles bleached white. Damian was beside me-not at the counsel table (his lawyers handled that), but close enough that his thigh pressed against mine under the table. Solid. Unmoving. A silent promise: I'm here. No one touches you.

Across the aisle, Ryder looked polished. Too polished. Navy suit, crisp white shirt, silver cufflinks shaped like crescent moons. His lawyer-a tall, thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and the kind of smile that never reached his eyes-kept leaning in, whispering. Ryder nodded once, twice. Never looked at me. Not once.

That hurt more than I expected.

The judge-a stern woman in her late fifties, hair pulled into a severe bun-rapped her gavel.

"Counsel, we're here on an emergency ex-parte application for temporary custody of three minor children. Petitioner alleges abandonment, unfit living conditions, and risk to the children's welfare due to the respondent's alleged unstable associations."

Unstable associations. Code for she's shacked up with a mafia-linked billionaire alpha.

My lawyer - Mr. Adebayo, silver-haired, calm as still water-stood.

"Your Honor, this application is premature, procedurally defective, and reeks of bad faith. There has been no prior notice, no mediation attempt, no social welfare investigation. The respondent has been the sole caregiver since birth. The petitioner only became aware of the children's existence weeks ago after years of voluntary estrangement."

Ryder's lawyer rose smoothly. "The petitioner was deliberately kept in the dark, Your Honor. The respondent fled the marital home under false pretenses, concealed a pregnancy, and has since associated with individuals known to law enforcement for organized criminal activity-"

"Objection," Adebayo cut in. "Speculation and character assassination. No evidence has been presented."

"Sustained," the judge said. "Stick to facts, counsel."

Ryder finally looked at me then. Gray eyes cold. Betrayed. Like I was the one who'd done the cheating.

I stared back. Let him see the woman he'd thrown away. Let him see I wasn't crumbling.

The judge continued. "I've reviewed the affidavits. DNA results are pending but preliminary markers suggest paternity. Given the extraordinary circumstances-supernatural elements notwithstanding, which this court will treat as cultural context-I'm inclined to grant supervised visitation pending full hearing."

My stomach plummeted.

Damian's hand found mine under the table. Squeezed. Hard.

"However," the judge went on, "the court is concerned about escalation. Both parties will refrain from contact outside supervised settings. Respondent is ordered to produce the children for visitation at a neutral location this Saturday. Failure to comply will result in immediate warrant."

Gavel. Done.

I didn't breathe until we were outside in the blinding Lagos sun.

Damian steered me toward the waiting black Range Rover, door already open, driver standing at attention.

Inside the car, tinted windows up, partition raised, I finally let the shaking start.

"They're going to make me hand them over," I whispered.

"No." Damian turned my face to his. "They're going to try. We're going to stop it."

"How? The court-"

"Courts are human. Slow. Predictable." His thumb stroked my cheek. "Ryder wants a public win. We'll give him a private loss."

I searched his eyes. "What are you planning?"

He didn't answer right away. Just kissed me-brief, fierce-then leaned back.

"Trust me."

I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

But trust had teeth marks all over it.

Saturday came too fast.

The visitation was set for 10 a.m. at a private family center in Ikoyi-neutral, monitored, cameras everywhere. Social worker present. Security on both sides.

I dressed the kids in their nicest clothes. Asher in a little button-down that made him look older than six. Kai in his favorite blue hoodie. Aria in a yellow sundress with tiny sunflowers. They didn't understand why Mama was crying in the bathroom earlier, but they knew something was wrong.

We arrived early. Damian's security swept the building first. Only then did we go in.

The room was bright, colorful. Toys. Crayons. A low table. Two-way mirror on one wall-I knew his people were behind it.

The social worker, a kind-faced woman named Mrs. Okon, smiled at the kids.

"Hello, sweethearts. Your daddy is coming to play for a little while. Is that okay?"

Asher crossed his arms. "He's not my daddy. Damian is."

My heart cracked open.

Mrs. Okon blinked. Looked at me.

I forced a smile. "They've... bonded with someone new. It's complicated."

She nodded slowly. "We'll take it slow."

The door opened.

Ryder stepped in.

Alone.

He looked smaller somehow. Less alpha in this fluorescent light. His eyes went straight to the children.

Asher stepped in front of his siblings. Protective. Tiny chest puffed.

Kai gripped my leg. Aria hid her face in my skirt.

Ryder crouched slowly. Hands open.

"Hey," he said softly. "I'm Ryder. I... I'm your dad."

Asher scowled. "You made Mama cry. A lot."

Ryder flinched. Visibly.

"I know," he said. "I was wrong. Very wrong. I want to make it better."

Kai peeked out. "You left us."

"I didn't know about you." Ryder's voice cracked. "If I had-"

"But you didn't," Asher cut in. Sharp. "And now we have Damian. He stays. He protects. He doesn't hurt Mama."

Ryder looked at me then. Really looked.

"Is that true?" he asked quietly. "You've replaced me already?"

I lifted my chin. "I didn't replace anyone. I survived. And I found someone who doesn't make survival feel like punishment."

His jaw worked. Eyes glistened.

Then Aria peeked out. Curious despite herself.

"You smell like us," she said. "But... old. And sad."

Ryder laughed once-broken sound. "Yeah. I guess I do."

He reached into his pocket. Pulled out three small velvet pouches.

"Gifts," he said. "If it's okay."

I nodded once. Tense.

He handed them over.

Tiny wolf pendants-silver, not real silver, safe for pups. Each engraved with their names.

Asher took his reluctantly. Turned it over. "It's pretty," he admitted.

Kai examined his like a puzzle. Aria immediately put hers on.

Ryder watched them. Hungry. Heartbroken.

Time passed too slowly. Thirty minutes of awkward small talk, forced smiles, kids staying close to me. Ryder tried-stories about pack runs, how he used to climb trees as a boy-but the wall was too high.

When the social worker called time, he stood.

"I'll see you again?" he asked them.

Asher shrugged. "If Mama says."

Ryder looked at me. Pleading.

I didn't soften.

"Supervised," I said. "Always."

He nodded. Left without another word.

The door closed.

Asher turned to me. "He's not bad. Just... late."

I pulled them all into a hug. Tears hot on my cheeks.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Just late."

That night, back in the penthouse, Damian waited on the balcony.

Kids in bed. Exhausted. Confused but safe.

He handed me a glass of red wine. Stood behind me. Arms around my waist.

"How was it?" he asked.

"Painful. For everyone."

He kissed my neck. Soft.

"He didn't try anything?"

"No. He was... human. Vulnerable." I turned in his arms. "It almost made me hate him less."

Damian's eyes narrowed. "Don't."

"I'm not forgiving him. I'm just... tired of carrying the hate. It's heavy."

He studied me. Then nodded once.

"Good. Let it go. But don't forget."

I leaned into him. "What happened after court? Your call with the 'bigger fire'?"

A slow smile curved his lips.

"Ryder's lawyer suddenly remembered a conflict of interest. Withdrew from the case. New counsel is... less aggressive."

I raised a brow. "You leaned on him?"

"I reminded certain people where their mortgages are paid from." Casual. Like discussing the weather. "And the judge received an anonymous tip about campaign contributions from Silvermoon-linked businesses. She's recusing herself. New judge assigned Monday. One who doesn't owe anyone favors."

I exhaled. Shaky.

"That's... a lot of power."

He cupped my face. "Power I only use for family."

Family.

The word wrapped around my heart like a vow.

I kissed him then-slow, grateful, hungry.

He lifted me. Carried me inside. Laid me on the couch like I was glass.

This time he took his time.

Every kiss deliberate. Every touch worship.

When he slid inside me, eyes locked on mine, the bond sang.

No words.

Just us.

After, lying skin to skin, city lights painting stripes across our bodies, his phone buzzed.

He ignored it.

It buzzed again.

He sighed. Reached over.

Read the message.

Face went stone.

"What?" I asked.

"Ryder's gone underground. Dropped off the grid after the visitation. My people lost him at the hotel."

Fear prickled my scalp.

"He wouldn't-"

"He might." Damian sat up. Already reaching for clothes. "If he can't win in court, he'll try another way."

I sat up too. Heart hammering.

"Pack raid? Kidnapping?"

"Or something quieter." He pulled on jeans. "I'm doubling security. No one in or out without clearance."

He looked at me-eyes blazing gold.

"Lockdown starts now."

I nodded. Numb.

The fortress had cracks.

And something was slipping through.

Outside, thunder rumbled over Lagos.

The storm wasn't over.

It was only gathering strength.