MEREDITH 

Everything felt heavy. My eyes, arms, even my head. It felt like my body didn't want to move. The first thing I noticed wasn't pain, It was the smell.

I'm a wolf so my nose is basically a superpower, even when I'm half-dead. My office smells clean and expensive. My penthouse smells soft and sweet.

This place didn't.

This place smelled bad. Like old socks, cold pizza, and cheap soap.

Oh God. Where am I?

I tried to open my eyes, but the light was too bright. It wasn't the soft light from my room. It was hard and flickering. It made a low noise.

"She's moving!"

That was Elena. She sounded like she'd been crying for three hours straight.

I forced my eyes open. The ceiling was white, but not a "clean" white. It had a weird water stain in the corner that looked like a cat. I blinked, trying to clear the blur.

"Meredith? Can you hear me?"

I groaned, the sound catching in my throat. I tried to sit up, but a hand pressed gently on my shoulder, keeping me down.

"Don't even try it," a voice barked.

Dave. Of course.

I turned my head slowly. I wasn't in a hospital. I was on a couch that felt like it was made of stones. Dave was leaning over me, looking like he hadn't slept for more than a week. His tie was loose, his hair was a mess, and he had a look on his face that was somewhere between worried and "I'm definitely going to jail for this."

"Where am I?" I rasped. My throat felt like I'd swallowed a handful of sand

"My place," he said. "In Queens. Fourth floor, not exactly the Four Seasons, but paparazzi don't know it exists."

"Queens?" I croaked. "Are you kidding me? I'm dying in Queens?"

"You're not dying," Dave said, though he didn't look entirely sure. "But someone was at your penthouse. Your security system went off right after you passed out. We couldn't take you home."

I looked around, even with the pain. The walls were dull white. There was a folding chair in the corner, used like a table. Outside the window was a brick wall and an old fire escape.

My head started to clear. The red box on the laptop. The breach.

Lucas.

Fear hit me before the pain. I tried to sit up again. I got halfway, then my side burned like fire. I gasped and grabbed my ribs.

"Meredith!" Elena was right there, her face hovering over mine. "Please, just stay still. The Detective... he said he knows what he's doing."

I looked at Elena. She looked terrified. Her perfect professional chignon was falling apart, and she was wearing a hoodie that definitely didn't belong to her.

"You... you brought her here too?" I asked Dave, glaring at him.

"I didn't have a choice," Dave said, crossing his arms. "She wasn't going to let me leave with you unless I dragged her along. Plus, she has your laptop and your bag.

I felt Elena sit on the edge of the couch. She took my hand. It was cold, but hers was warm.

"Meredith," she whispered, her voice shaking. "What is going on? Why did you say no hospitals? And why is your skin so cold?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. How do you tell your perfect PA that you're a werewolf who's been poisoned by a silver-wielding stalker?

Dave sat on the edge of the mattress. He looked at my side, where the bandage was already staining dark again. He looked back at me, his expression serious.

"Remember at your apartment? When I said I knew a doctor? Someone discreet?" Dave asked. "I wanted to call him before you even woke up. But I figured you'd probably try to sue me for medical kidnapping if I didn't ask first."

"No doctors," I said, the old fear sparking in my chest. Doctors meant blood tests. Blood tests meant the government finding out I was different "I have my own... treatments."

"Your 'treatments' aren't working, Meredith," Dave said, his voice dropping an octave. "That wound is turning a color that isn't found in nature. You're shivering, but you're burning up. If I don't call this guy, you're not going to make it.

"He's right," Elena chimed in, stepping closer. She looked at Dave, then at me.

"Look, I don't trust this guy's but he's the only one who knows we're here. If you go to a real hospital, Victor Langford will have the press there in minutes. He'll tell everyone you're unstable."

I bit my lip. The silver was moving. I could feel the poison crawling toward my heart. If I didn't get it out, I wouldn't just lose my company. I'd lose my life.

"Is he... safe?" I asked Dave, searching his blue eyes for any sign of a trap.

"He was a top-tier surgeon until he got into some trouble with the hospital. Now he works for people who need to stay off the grid. He doesn't ask questions, and he doesn't keep records," Dave promised. "He's the only shot you've got."

I looked at my shaking hands. I was a CEO. I was an Alpha. And right now, I was at the mercy of a Queens detective.

"Fine," I whispered. "Call him."

Dave nodded and stood up, reaching for his phone. As he walked out of the room, I looked at Elena.

"Elena?"

"Yeah?"

"If I die in this apartment, here, tell the police I was taken somewhere nicer," I said. "I can't be found in a place like this."

Elena gave a watery laugh. "Don't worry, boss. I'll lie for you."

But as I felt the fever take hold again, I wondered if even a doctor could fix what was wrong with me. The silver was in deep, and I could hear the howling in the back of my mind getting louder. Lucas was still out there. And I was stuck In a small apartment in Queens.

DAVE

My apartment had never felt so small. It was a one-bedroom place in Queens with wallpaper coming off the walls and a window that looked out at a brick wall. Usually, it was just me and my messy clothes. But with Meredith Stevens dying on my bed, Elena pacing like she was trapped and Doc James laying out surgical tools on my stained kitchen table, it felt like a tomb.

"The lighting is better in here," Doc James muttered, putting on a pair of latex gloves. He was a guy who'd seen too much and said too little, the perfect doctor for a someone like me who was currently breaking ten different laws.

"Move her."

I walked over to the bed. Meredith was going in and out of being awake. Her skin was very pale, almost see-through. But the cut on her side was dark purple and angry. It looked like it was rotting from the inside.

She was shaking so hard the bed frame rattled. I picked her up. She felt light, but her body was hot. It was like holding a hot kettle. I carried her to the kitchen and put her on the wooden table. It was old and wobbly, but it was all we had.

"Elena, hold the flashlight. Keep it steady," James ordered.

Elena's hands were shaking, but she grabbed the light. I stood at the head of the table, pinning Meredith's shoulders down.

"This is going to hurt," James muttered, reaching for a bottle of antiseptic. "I don't have enough anesthesia to knock her out completely, so she's going to feel this."

"Are you kidding me?" I hissed. "Just do it."

As soon as the cold liquid touched the wound, Meredith's eyes opened wide. My heart almost stopped. They weren't hazel anymore. They were the scary, beautiful gold I had seen in her apartment. They looked like melted metal, bright and strong, even while she was confused. She made a sound that wasn't a scream. It was a low growl from deep in her chest. It made the hair on my arms stand up.

"Hold her!" James yelled.

Meredith's hand shot up, fast like a snake, and grabbed my arm. Her grip was crazy. I could hear my jacket ripping. Her nails cut through my jacket and shirt and dug into my skin. For a second, I thought she might break my arm. No girl her size no person should be that strong.

I looked into those gold eyes. She was scared, lost in some kind of fever. I stopped thinking like a detective and just tried to hold her steady.

"I've got you, Meredith," I whispered, leaning close so only she could hear me. "Just stay with me. It's almost over. I'm not letting anything happen to you."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't let go. She looked at me like I was the only thing keeping her from fading away.

James leaned in with a pair of forceps. He had to go deep, past the layers of tissue that looked burned. Meredith let out a broken gasp that made me want to hit something. Her body lifted off the table, and I had to press down on her shoulders with all my strength to keep her still.

Clink

James dropped a small, sharp piece of metal into a metal bowl. It made a loud ringing sound that filled the quiet kitchen. The piece was dull and grey. It didn't look like the shiny steel of a normal pocketknife.

"Found the problem," James said, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his glove. "A piece of the blade broke off inside. High-grade silver. That's why the infection was spreading so fast. Her body was trying to get rid of it, but it was too deep."

"Who even carries a silver knife in 2026?" James said, dumping the bowl in the sink.

"That's some old-school, paranoid stuff. Like he thought he'd find a vampire or something."

I didn't answer. I couldn't tell him that the "paranoid stuff" was the reason Meredith Stevens was dying on my kitchen table. I just watched her eyes finally cloud over, and she went limp. The gold faded back to dull hazel, and she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Half an hour later, the doctor was gone. I had moved Meredith to my bed. It felt strange having her there-the billionaire "Iron Goddess" under my old blue comforter in my tiny bedroom-but it was the only place she could really rest. I'd sleep on the floor tonight, which was fine. My back was already killing me anyway.

Elena was in the kitchen, scrubbing a bloodstain off the table so hard it could take the paint off. She looked like she was a million miles away.

"Detective?" she asked, her voice small and shaky.

"Yeah?" I said, leaning against the doorframe.

"What kind of person carries a silver knife?" She looked up at me, her eyes red from crying. "And why did she act like that? The growling... the way she looked. That wasn't just a fever, was it?"

I looked at the floor. I wasn't ready to talk about this. Not when I didn't even have the answers.

"I don't know, Elena. This whole case is a mess. Just... try to get some sleep on the couch, okay? We have a long day tomorrow."

I went back into the bedroom to check on her. Meredith was completely still, breathing shallow but steady. Her phone, sitting on the nightstand next to her expensive bag, suddenly lit up with a loud, sharp ping.

I picked up the phone, my thumb hovering over the screen. It was a text from that Unknown Number again. My heart started thumping hard in my chest.

I SAW YOU LEAVE THE OFFICE IN THE DETECTIVE'S CAR, MEREDITH. QUEENS IS A LONG WAY FROM HOME. I'LL GIVE YOU ONE NIGHT TO HEAL BEFORE I COME TO GET WHAT'S MINE.

My stomach sank. To get what's mine.

I walked to the window and pulled the blinds back a little, just enough to see the street. It was late, and the streetlights were buzzing. Everything looked normal-until it didn't.

A black SUV with dark windows was parked two blocks away, under a broken streetlight. Its lights were off, but I could see the soft smoke from the tailpipe in the cold air. It was running. Just sitting there.

The man from the office. The one who broke into her penthouse. He didn't just know she was hurt. He had followed us. He had watched me carry her into this building.

I looked back at Meredith, sleeping and vulnerable. I'd lied to Miller, I'd ignored a mutated DNA report, and I'd brought a target straight to my front door.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I whispered to the empty room.

The final line of the text flashed in my mind: to collect what's mine.

He wasn't coming for her company. He was coming for her. And he knew exactly where we were. I reached for my gun on the dresser and checked it. It was going to be a long night.

I hadn't slept. I hadn't moved more than a few feet in the last few hours. But I didn't care. Not when Meredith Stevens was lying in front of me, fever burning through her like wildfire and a black SUV waiting outside like a shark in the dark.

She was pale and shivering, her hair stuck to her forehead. But the gold in her eyes, the part that came out when she was scared or hurt, flashed every time she moved.

Around 2:00 AM, Meredith started talking

At first, she was just mumbling. Then she started moving her head back and forth. Her skin was shiny with sweat, but she looked... different. Not like a CEO. She looked like a girl having a really weird dream.

I leaned forward and put a wet, cold cloth on her head.

"No," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Too cold. Stop, Dave."

"It's for your fever, Meredith. Stay still," I said, trying to stay calm.

Her eyes shot open. They weren't hazel. They were that bright, honey-gold again. But she didn't look scary this time. She looked... out of it. Like she'd had way too much to drink.

"You have really nice eyes," she said. Her voice was soft and a little loopy. "For a guy who probably eats cereal straight from the box. They're... blue. Like the ocean. I hate the ocean. It's too big. But your eyes are okay."

I felt my face get hot. Is she seriously flirting with me right now?

"You're high on the meds James gave you," I muttered. "Go back to sleep."

Elena came back into the room. She'd been on the phone with someone, judging by the panicked look on her face. She was holding a juice box like it was her only lifeline.

"She's talking about your eyes, Detective?" Elena whispered in a very tight voice. "Oh no. We're so screwed. If she remembers this tomorrow, she's going to move my desk to the basement. Meredith, please stop talking."

Meredith groaned at Elena. "Elena, shut up. You're shaking. Go find a hobby. Or a boyfriend. Not Dave. He's... busy."

"She's just delirious, Elena," I said, not looking away from the gold eyes.

Meredith suddenly grabbed my arm. Her grip was still crazy strong, even though she was lying on her back.

"Elena worries too much," she said, leaning her head toward me like she was sharing a big secret. "She thinks I'm a goddess. I'm not. I'm just... tired, Dave."

Her eyes opened a little. She reached a shaky hand for me and grabbed my wrist. Her grip was weak, but it still said, I'm not helpless.

"Don't leave," she whispered, almost lost in her fever. "You... you're... my safety blanket."

I blinked. Safety blanket? That was new.

Elena groaned softly. "Oh my God... she's delirious. She's actually talking like a teenager."

"She's fine," I said, pressing my hand on hers so she wouldn't twist. "Just... hang in there, okay?"

Meredith's lips curled into a small, playful mischievous smirk. "I... never... had... sex," she said, slow and deliberate, like it was the most important confession in the world.

Elena's hand flew to her mouth. "What? Did she just say what I think she said?"

I coughed awkwardly. "She... she's got a fever. Don't... don't take it seriously."

Meredith laughed-a dry, rough sound that hit me hard. "I'm... lonely, detective. But strong. I'm... Iron... Goddess." She flopped back on the pillow, groaning. "Even when... I'm dying... I'm still... being a pain."

Elena, hovering nervously at the edge of the bed, whispered under her breath. "What kind of drugs did that illegal doctor give her?"

Elena muttered under her breath as she paced. "Is she always like this, or...?"

"She's fine," I said again, my hand still over Meredith's. I wasn't leaving her to fight this alone. Not now. "It's just the fever. She's still in there."

Meredith's eyes opened again, gold for a second. She made a low sound, like a warning. "Don't... leave... me... Elena's... boring... talk to me..."

Elena froze. "Boring? I-I was just trying to help..."

"I said... keep talking..." Meredith rasped. "Tell... stories... detective... I... I like your voice."

I gave a tired chuckle. "Fine. You want boring? I can do boring. Did I ever tell you about the time I almost set the evidence locker on fire back in training?"

Meredith let out a small laugh. "Bad... detective," she teased. "You... you'd be lost... without me..."

"Yeah, probably," I said, smiling. "But let's focus on you staying alive first, okay?"

Her fingers twitched against mine. "You... have nice... hands," she murmured. "Hold me... don't... let go..."

I stayed close, careful not to let her move too much or hurt herself. She was all over the place-joking, honest, soft, then sharp again. But underneath it, I could see her. Not the Iron Goddess. Just a girl. Tired. Lonely. Still fighting.

Elena hovered nearby, nervous. Every time Meredith moved, Elena held her breath. "I... I can't believe she said that," she whispered.

"She's delirious," I said softly. "It's the fever. Just let her talk. It helps."

Meredith rolled her eyes, or tried to. "You're... too serious... detective... relax... life's short..."

I laughed quietly and leaned closer. "I'll relax when you're not burning up and flirting at the same time."

She smiled a little. "Fair... enough..."

After a while, the gold faded from her eyes. The sounds stopped. Her hands loosened in mine. She slipped into a light, shaky sleep.

I stayed there, my hand on her arm, feeling her breathe. Fever or not, she'd let something real show. And it made one thing clear.

The Iron Goddess wasn't just a boss or a legend.

She was just a girl.

Strong, stubborn and very human.

Elena peeked in from the doorway. "You... you actually handled her," she whispered. "And she... said some things..."

I looked down at Meredith and shook my head. "She's fine. And she's sharp. Even like this, she's still herself."

Elena let out a shaky breath. "Okay... I guess that counts as... bonding?"

I gave a small smirk. "Yeah. Bonding. Now let's hope she sleeps long enough to make it."