Chapter 6
CADE
Sleep can’t claim me tonight. Iris might be able to make things more difficult by keeping me out of NightShade, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
I crouch on a boulder, keeping to the shadows of the forest’s tree line, eyes locked on the window that belongs to her.
Rowan. My mate.
Even now, every fiber of my being pulls me toward her like a live wire. I’m tuned to the rhythm of her breathing, the subtle shifts of her body as she tries to sleep through a nightmare no one prepared her for. Her heartbeat flutters like a hummingbird’s wings. She’s restless.
So am I.
Shadows from the branches and moon above sway around me, though none of it holds my attention as I keep watch. I don’t know what to expect, but I know there’s no lowering my guard.
I came here to end the hybrid Hollowborn. I thought I sensed her existence because that was my destiny. To kill the thing that destroyed my family.
Yet, she ends up being mine to protect.
Twisted fucking fate.
The very creature my father destroyed our family for—chased down every lead, spent years obsessed with unlocking the bloodlines of power, of immortality—is now my mate. My responsibility. My damn undoing.
I should be raging. I should be tearing through the trees, howling at the sky until the world bleeds with me. But instead, I stay still. Silent. Watching her. Protecting her from the edges of the darkness like some feral, exiled knight.
I consider killing Iris a thousand times over until she gets out of my fucking way. Rowan isn’t going to trust me easily with that wench whispering stories into her ears. Sure, most of them might be true, but they’ll be repeated out of context.
They all think I’m a monster. Fine. Let them. But I didn’t ask for this. I only ever wanted to be left the hell alone.
But they wouldn’t let me.
Not since the night my mother died. A memory that carves itself across the backs of my eyelids every time I close my eyes.
She was the one who held everything together.
The one who kept the council functioning while my father spiraled into madness, chasing immortality.
She tried to warn him. I heard her—heard the tremble in her voice as she begged him to reclaim his place, to stop playing God and start being the mate she needed.
He told her his research was vital. That this was their legacy.
That was the last time I saw her alive.
Two days later, she was found dead. Car overturned on a rural road. Her throat ripped open, heart torn from her chest like a trophy.
“Rogue attack,” the council said. A tragedy. Nothing to investigate.
But I knew better.
And when no one listened, I walked away from it all. From the pack I was meant to lead, from the people I’d promised to protect, from any hope of a future worth fighting for.
The front door of the manor creaks as it opens, then closes quietly, but enough to distract me. I tense, gaze flicking toward Rowan’s window. Still dark and no movement inside. My focus shifts to the left, where the soft crunch of grass signals someone approaching.
Liz.
She walks with practiced elegance, hips swaying, eyes already locked on me with the confidence of someone who knows she’s not prey.
The musty tang of vampire hits me like mildew in the lungs—cloying, stale, a stench that never sits right with my wolf. I straighten from my crouch.
“What do you want?” I growl.
Liz smirks. Her hazel eyes glint under the silver wash of moonlight. “Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“You know why I’m here,” I say, voice edged with warning. “You’ve been around long enough to understand how this works.”
She lifts a perfectly manicured finger and waggles it at me like I’m a disobedient dog. “No, I know why you showed up and why you’re staying, but I don’t know what you want. Rowan is special, and I’m not going to let her get hurt by you.”
I bare my teeth. “I would never hurt her.”
“Maybe not on purpose.” Liz crosses her arms. “But pain doesn’t always come from intent, Cade.
It comes from carelessness. From dragging your baggage into someone else’s war.
You’ve got blood on your hands, and she’s already going to be drowning in her own mess by the time she wraps her mind around all this. ”
My snarl reverberates through the trees, curling between branches like smoke. I want to snap back, to shut her up, and remind her that I’m not the one who drank her way through a century of politics and power-brokering.
But then my wolf speaks, low and steady. She’s right.
My fingers twitch, claws itching to extend, but I hold them back as he adds, We can’t keep doing things how we have been this past decade. Our mate needs us to be better.
Liz tilts her head, her tone softening. “You said you’d protect her. Start by giving her a reason to trust you. Killing Iris in front of Rowan? Not exactly a meet-cute.”
I grunt. “I didn’t kill her.”
“Semantics.” Her smile is grim. “You still crushed her windpipe, snapped her spine, and dropped her like a sack of potatoes.”
A long silence stretches between us as crickets hum. Something tight coils inside my chest, but I keep my darker thoughts to myself.
“I’ll be whatever Rowan needs,” I admit, voice rough. “But even you have to admit that Iris is a problem.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, you’re going to need to learn to play nice if you want Rowan to consider accepting you. Something tells me the bond won’t be enough for her. She’s her mother’s daughter, after all.”
There’s a longing in her gaze that reminds me that Liz was friends with Rowan’s mom, Jocelyn. I don’t know how close, but by the looks of it, likely more so than most knew.
Still, those are details that don’t make much difference to me. Rowan is my mate. I don’t need the advice of some bloodsucker to know how best to make this work.
I’ll remind you of that later when that Hollowborn is making you question your sanity, my wolf adds, his dark humor unappreciated.
Liz sighs heavily. “Your silence tells me all I need to know. We can have this conversation another night, when you realize that just because fate tied you to Rowan doesn’t mean you’ll be able to have your way with her, on your terms. This is going to be her way or nothing.
The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be on all of us. ”
The vampire doesn’t wait for a response. She turns on a heel and walks back toward the manor, her scent trailing like rot in the breeze.
I briefly entertain the idea of ripping a branch from above and hurling it through her cold, unbeating heart. But I don’t. I watch her go, my jaw locked, hands fisting at my sides, acknowledging that Liz might be the lesser of two evils.
Iris won’t let me near Rowan, but the bloodsucker? She’s already shown she has no issue putting that self-righteous fossil in her place. That could work in my favor.
Yes, my wolf says. The vampire could be a means to an end. We need to do whatever it takes for our mate to trust us and become who she’s meant to be.
The sound of Rowan’s growl from earlier replays in my mind. She may not understand what she is now, but the fire of her inner wolf is already there, and to see her strength—even used against me—did things to me that I don’t have time to dissect.
Will she actually be the undoing of our world as we know it? And if she is, will I be able to care?
I’ve spent years hating the Ashmark, but I already know the answer. I won’t give a shit what Rowan does or what she becomes.
I’ll help her burn this whole fucking world to the ground if that’s what she ultimately desires.
One look into her fiery gaze made that all but certain.
My stare returns to Rowan’s window. Her heartbeat is quieter, and I take that to mean she’s finally resting. Still, I return to the rock to keep watch.
I might have been drawn here because of the mate bond, but that doesn’t mean I’m the only one aware that the prophecy has begun.
NightShade may be neutral ground, but that will only deter the cowards. The worst of our kind won’t fear consequences. They break rules, shatter bones, and rip through protections like tissue paper.
Any one of the guests currently staying here could have sent word about her arrival, which is why I can’t leave.
It doesn’t matter that Iris kicked out everyone after the explosion.
Any one of the prior occupants could have sensed the energy before they left.
It was too late the moment Rowan walked through the doors.
She’s too far removed from all this to be left under the supervision of Iris and Liz. They can’t protect her on their own. Plus, even if Rowan were to shift out of pure survival instincts, she’s not ready to defend herself against those who will mean her harm.
Not yet, anyway. I plan on making sure that changes, because regardless of the possibility that Rowan might want nothing to do with me, I won’t leave her vulnerable.
More importantly, I won’t let Iris make promises that are built on weak beliefs like nothing bad can happen simply by keeping her granddaughter inside that manor.
A brittle crunch sounds behind me.
It’s faint—barely more than a shift of weight on dried leaves—but enough to make my body still and every nerve flare to life.
Someone’s here, my wolf confirms, low and lethal.
They won’t touch her, I vow, already turning toward the intruder.
Maybe they’re not here for Rowan, he offers, cautious.
I don’t care. Intent means nothing when there’s so much at stake. Even if my penchant for killing first and asking questions later keeps me from Rowan, I know I can’t take the risk of hoping this is just another guest showing up at NightShade, tonight of all nights.
I catch the scent—muted, unfamiliar, cloaked by magic—and I start stalking. Silent and deadly.
Whoever it is, they remain still, as if they think I’ll pass them by. But I see the interruption in the shadows. The outline of a figure, faceless, wrapped in glamor, moving like smoke through the trees.
This is no curious guest.
My wolf surges forward.
The shift snaps through me, bones cracking, skin stretching. Within seconds, I’m on four legs—coiled muscle, sharpened claws, and the fury of an alpha rogue with nothing left to lose.
The trespasser darts east, their speed quick.
But I’m faster.
Energy pulses through my limbs, heightened by the mate bond that already simmers beneath my skin. Every stride shortens the distance between us, the earth blurring beneath my paws. I prepare to leap with my jaws open, breath hot with bloodlust.
Just as I do, the shadow crosses the boundary line of NightShade’s grounds. He turns back to face me, revealing bright silver eyes—Glacier Crest Pack.
My snarl deepens, but before my claws can make contact, he vanishes.
One heartbeat, he’s there, showing me something I’m not sure I was meant to see. The next, only wind.
My wolf skids to a halt, nose twitching as we scent the air.
Nothing. No trace. No lingering essence. It’s like he was never here.
But I know better.
Those silver eyes tell me exactly where he’s from. And more importantly? I have no doubt that he knew who I was.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have run.
Word of the prophecy is already spreading, and so will my presence.
They can talk all they want, run back to their masters with whispers of the hybrid Hollowborn and her alpha protector. It doesn’t matter to me.
I might have walked away from my pack and the council, abandoning their politics and their thrones, but my mark? It’s been burned into this world.
And I welcome anyone foolish enough to test me.
I prowl back toward the manor, staying in wolf form now, my senses sharp and rage humming through every step.
This won’t be the last.
They’ll come again. Stronger. Smarter. More desperate.
Let them.
If they don’t run like this one, their blood will be mine.
That’s a promise I know I’ll keep.
Because I’m not leaving NightShade. Not until Rowan’s safe.
Not even if she asks me to.
Not even if I have to find a way to kill Iris Prescott, once and for all.