Lielit
My family were still pissed off at Blaidd—especially my dad. I couldn’t blame them, but I didn’t tell them that I was part hyena and he was part god-wolf. The less they knew, the safer they were. Not just from Blaidd’s megalomaniac tendencies, but from the world in general.
I wondered if Blaidd’s strange ways were because of Fenrir. I pushed the thought aside. He was such a stubborn prick that I doubted Fenrir had much influence over him at all. The man didn’t have one iota of emotional intelligence.
Still… over the last few weeks, we’d both retracted our claws.
I pulled the plastic cap from my hair and tossed it in the bin. The plant was running exceptionally well, and this would be my last visit for a while. The twins were getting harder to disguise beneath my clothes.
Anji was the only one who knew the facts.
When my phone rang, I answered without looking at the screen.
“Are you coming back to the office?” Anji asked.
“Why?” I said. “Do you want to leave early?”
“Nah. You know I don’t have a hot sex life like you do,” she lamented. “Just come back and tell me more of yours.”
“Didn’t Darius ask you out?” I sniggered.
“Please.” She snorted. “I found his profile on Grindr. That’s just being greedy. That dickhead fucks everyone.”
“Do you want me to pick up some batteries for you on the way back?” I asked, waving at Joyce as I headed out.
She was one of the new recruits who’d caught a major safety flaw while handling certain chemicals.
“You’re such a bitch,” Anji sighed. “But I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said with a smile. “Maybe you can borrow Guard 3 for an hour or two.”
“Hmm,” she hummed. I shook my head.
“Three might do as a temporary solution.”
“See you soon,” I said, pushing the door open.
It was date night, and I didn’t care what Blaidd said—he was still obsessed with fucking me into the mattress every Friday. He hit peak energy by then.
My smile faltered when I saw Guard 3 lying unconscious a few feet from the car. I rushed over to check his pulse, registering the small pool of blood on the concrete.
Silly me.
I never reached him. Someone stuck a needle in my neck.
?
?
?
How many times did a girl need to be kidnapped?
My head throbbed as I regained consciousness. A quick glance around the dark room told me this wasn’t a luxurious kidnapping. I lay on a filthy concrete floor, and when I tried to sit up, I realised one hand was cuffed to a metal pipe.
I immediately ruled Blaidd out. The floor wasn’t bleached, disinfected, or glowing. Even the stone cellar had been clean.
God. Was I normalising kidnapping?
A clicking sound came from the corner, followed by the flicker of a flame. A man lit a cigarette. From what little I could see, I didn’t recognise him.
The cigarette glowed, and I smelled the tobacco rather than seeing it.
I could shift, Bouda said cautiously.
I let my back relax against the wall.
Are you okay?
Yes. A little woozy.
That’ll pass.
I focused on the man, and with Bouda’s senses layered over mine, the darkness thinned. The room was large—possibly a warehouse or some derelict commercial building.
“I wanted to see what sort of woman aligned herself with a monster like Prothero.”
“That’s rich coming from someone like you,” I snorted.
“My client has his reasons.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Your boyfriend has made some powerful enemies.”
Boyfriend sounded strange.
“Do you think that’s news to me? Who doesn’t want to kill him?”
The man chuckled.
“That’s true.”
“What did you drug me with?” I asked, keeping my anger in check.
“Nothing that would harm your brat.”
Let me shift, Bouda growled.
We can’t. Not yet. I don’t want anyone knowing about you—and we don’t know how many people are outside this room.
I thought of Fenrir and closed my eyes.
This would not end well.
I wouldn’t mind seeing him in action, Bouda said darkly.
“Is he even human?” the man asked, stepping closer. “Rumour has it he went to a dignitary’s home and took a piss on him—just because he could.”
He’d need a sink nearby. Or wet wipes. But that kind of territorial marking, done purely because he could, did sound like Blaidd.
The man moved past me and flicked the light on.
I blinked.
He wasn’t a thug—just another prick in a suit.
“Rumour has it he’s killed.”
“And who exactly are you?” I asked, looking him up and down.
“You’re not scared,” he observed, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Mr Prothero stirs the pot. I’m the one who tries to clean up the mess he leaves.”
A fixer.
“Shouldn’t you be grateful?” I said. “He keeps you employed.”
His eyes were dark like mine—but empty. Dead. As cold as Blaidd’s had been the first time I met him. Dark hair, not black. Possibly mixed race. Eastern European, maybe.
“What do you see in him?”
“Are you my fucking therapist?”
He shrugged, flicking the cigarette away. “I’m curious. He’s never had a weakness until now.”
My hand dropped to my stomach.
“What exactly are you planning to do to me?”
“If Mr Prothero doesn’t back away from my client,” he said calmly, turning for the door, “you’ll be shipped overseas. You and your child will be sold—continuously.”
The door closed behind him.
Bouda would never allow that—but the fact that this was happening in England made my chest tighten in a way I hadn’t expected. After the lockdowns, there had been whispers and warnings shared across social media, parents posting in panic and trying to keep one another informed.
My neighbours had told my grandmother that the school had issued multiple stranger-danger notices, the kind delivered quietly and without explanation, as though acknowledging the threat too loudly might invite it closer.
Lockdown had meant restricted movement, shortages, and desperation, and the sudden surge of activity afterward felt less like recovery and more like industries scrambling to reclaim what they’d lost. There were no official reports, no investigations that made the news, only a sense that certain things were being deliberately ignored.
Human trafficking wasn’t some distant horror or foreign problem—it was alive and functioning here, operating beneath the surface where polite society refused to look. I’d only suspected before… but this was proof.
I stared at the door and understood, with a clarity that unsettled me.
There were far greater monsters in the world than Blaidd Prothero.