Chapter 1 #3
She caught Aeolus’s gaze and held it. That golden stare seared through her, sharp and unapologetic. He wasn’t offering comfort. He wasn’t there to soothe.
He was there to make sure no one ever touched her again.
Not a doctor.
Not a witch.
Not a goddamn breath of wind unless he allowed it.
The witch muttered a spell under her breath, her fingers glowing faintly with soft blue light. She pressed them against the wound.
White-hot pain tore through Candy’s side, blinding and brutal.
She screamed.
The sound shredded through the room.
Aeolus snapped.
His power surged like a wave, crashing into the walls, rattling glass, setting the air crackling with the weight of a storm.
“Enough!” he roared, voice shaking the walls, magic bleeding off him in waves of pure threat.
The witch stumbled back, hands raised defensively, mouth open in fear.
Candy’s hand lifted—not much, just enough to signal him.
“Aeolus,” she said, voice hoarse, eyes finding his again. “Let her finish.”
He stared at her for a beat.
Then, slowly, excruciatingly, he stepped back. One inch. Two. Every movement a battle. But he obeyed. Not the witch. Not logic.
Her.
She’d tethered him with a word.
The witch dove back in, working quickly now. Her spell pulsed with light, drawing the silver slug from Candy’s side. It clinked into a bowl, dark with blood.
And just like that, the worst of the pain began to ease.
The damage sealed under soft, humming magic.
But Candy barely felt it.
Because her eyes were locked on Aeolus.
And his were eating her alive.
He wasn’t just watching her.
He was claiming her with his gaze.
Laying siege to her soul with every slow drag of his stare down her body, over her face, across the wounded skin he hadn’t protected in time.
His guilt was a blade in his eyes.
His possession? A wildfire.
The moment stretched between them like a vow. One she hadn’t asked for—but one she could feel anchoring itself into her bones.
And then… darkness crept in again.
Her body was too weak. Her vision blurred. Her limbs grew heavy. The pull was too strong, the exhaustion merciless.
But before it swallowed her whole, she forced her gaze to his and whispered, just for him: “Mine.”
His lips parted. A sound—half-snarl, half-curse—rumbled from his chest.
But she was already gone.
* * *
Candy woke again to a new sensation—warmth.
Not the artificial kind that came from heated blankets or medicinal spells.
This was deeper. Denser. A living, breathing furnace pressed to her back, surrounding her with the kind of heat that made her body hum and her senses stir before her eyes even opened.
She felt it first in the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her cheek, in the rhythmic thrum of a heartbeat that didn’t belong to her.
A low purr of an engine vibrated beneath them, the soft leather seat cradling her like a lover’s embrace. The motion was slow, smooth. A car—luxury, she guessed—gliding through the city like it owned the night.
Then the scent hit her.
Not just leather. Not just aftershave.
Him.
That dangerously addictive blend of musk, power, and male.
A primal, dominant scent that didn’t just tease her senses—it wrapped around her magic and squeezed.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Aeolus.
She was curled in his lap like some sleeping beauty—and he, all six-foot-plus of lethal intent, held her as if she were made of the finest china.
One of his arms cradled her to his chest, iron-strong but careful, as if he couldn’t decide whether to protect her or bury himself in her completely. The other hand rested on her bare thigh, fingers curved possessively, the heat of his touch soaking straight through to her bones.
His thumb moved slowly—absently—stroking once across her skin.
It should’ve felt intrusive.
It didn’t.
It felt like a brand.
A silent promise.
Mine.
Candy groaned softly, trying to shift, and instantly—his grip clamped like a vise.
“Easy.”
The word rumbled from deep in his chest. Deep, rough, soaked in command and something darker. “You’re safe.”
Her throat was dry, but she managed to swallow, her voice rough. “What happened?”
Aeolus didn’t answer immediately. His jaw flexed, gold eyes hard. There was a tension in him that hadn’t eased since the theater. She could feel it in the way his muscles locked beneath her, in the way his breathing was steady—but forced.
“Bullet was spelled,” he said eventually, the words clipped and laced with fury. “Laced with a toxin designed to suppress magical energy.”
She stilled. “They wanted to strip my power.”
“Temporarily,” he growled. “Long enough for someone to take you.”
Her heart kicked hard in her chest.
“Someone else?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He looked at her then—really looked. No hesitation. No evasion.
“The vampire was a puppet.”
Ice slid through her bloodstream. She’d thought it was over. That the threat had been handled.
But this…
This was only the beginning.
“He was just the first.” Aeolus continued, eyes blazing. “The one to soften you. Scare you. Weaken you enough for the real threat to make their move.”
“And what do we know about the real threat?” she asked, her tone flat but her pulse racing.
Aeolus exhaled once through his nose. “Not enough yet. But I have people digging. Anyone who touches you again will die choking on their own blood.”
Her breath hitched.
The words should have terrified her.
They didn’t.
She studied his face—hard angles, razor-sharp lines, all of it carved by violence and fury—but under it was something deeper. Unyielding purpose.
This wasn’t about duty.
It was about her.
“So,” she said slowly, “what now?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You’re staying with me.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” His tone didn’t rise, didn’t snap. It didn’t need to. The steel in it was undeniable. “You’re not going anywhere alone ever again.”
His hand on her thigh tightened slightly, possessive as hell. “You’ll be under my protection.”
Her brows rose. “You mean like bodyguard duty?”
“I mean like full lockdown,” he said without blinking. “I mean my territory, my space, my rules. You don’t breathe without me knowing. You don’t open a door without me ten steps behind it.”
She let out a breathless laugh, more incredulous than amused. “That sounds a lot like a command.”
He leaned in.
His voice dropped—silk wrapped around a blade.
“That’s because it is.”
Their faces were close now. Too close. Her heart thudded against his chest, betraying her even as she lifted her chin in defiance.
“You think I take orders well?” she asked, arching a brow.
Aeolus smirked—dark, hungry, dangerous. “No,” he said, gaze dropping to her mouth, then lower. “But you’ll follow mine.”
She laughed. He had no idea how she worked. But he would soon find out. No one ever led a Siren.
Still, she should have snapped at him. Should have pushed him away, laid down a boundary, declared her independence.
She did none of those things.
Because deep down, something in her—some secret, molten part—thrilled at the weight of his words. At the certainty in them.
This wasn’t a man guessing his place in her life. This was a mate staking his claim.
And damn her, part of her wanted to lean into it.
She rested her head against his shoulder, letting his heat seep into her bones.
Aeolus didn’t truly know her or he would realize soon enough that she was tougher than she looked.
Candy sighed, she would simply have to teach him.
“Fine,” she murmured. “But don’t expect me to make it easy.”
Aeolus’s smile was pure sin.
“I don’t want easy,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, slow and possessive. “I want you.”
And if anyone tried to come between them?
He’d burn the world down—and smile while it burned.