Chapter 4 Harkan #2
Petra. Of course. She’d been stirring up trouble ever since I refused her advances. If Sable weren’t here, she’d be climbing naked into my bed again, attempting to secure her desired position in my pack as my mate.
That ship had sailed.
"She's not wrong," I admitted, hating every syllable that passed my lips.
Sable's eyes widened slightly. "You admit it?"
As if I would even attempt to lie to the woman who bore my mark, who could taste a lie on her tongue, who made my wolf howl under my flesh.
"Varro isn't going to let this go. War was coming the moment I marked you." I shrugged, the movement deliberately casual. "Petra's just stating the obvious. The difference is, I'm prepared to fight that war. She'd rather sacrifice you to avoid it like a coward."
Another reason Petra would never warm my bed.
Worry was stamped all over her features, but Sable didn’t flinch away from reality. "And the rest of the pack? Where do they stand?"
"Divided. Some loyal to me. Some loyal to the idea of me. Some just waiting to see which way the wind blows." With so many formerly of my father’s pack, it wasn’t exactly a wonder why they were so scattered. I’d bet half of them were scared I’d turn out just like him.
"That's not exactly reassuring."
"It wasn’t meant to be. You asked for answers, not fairy tales."
Trouble chittered again, more urgently this time. Sable's hand stilled on his fur.
"Someone's coming," she said. "Multiple people. One of them smells... official."
I was already turning toward the door when the knock came.
"What?" I called, pissed off that we were getting interrupted just when she might be starting to come around.
The door opened to reveal Cara, her expression tight with barely contained fury. Behind her stood a man I didn't recognize—slender, well-dressed, carrying himself with the kind of careful neutrality that screamed “messenger.”
"This one insisted on speaking with you directly," Cara said. "Claims he has a message from Varro."
The wolf surged to the surface so fast I tasted blood.
"Let him in," I growled, my hold on my animal looser than I’d like.
Cara stepped aside, and the messenger entered. He was smart enough to look nervous—smart enough to keep his eyes on me and not let them wander to the woman in my bed, but too stupid to forget wolf custom as he stared me right in the eyes.
"Alpha Harkan." He bowed, shallow and perfunctory. "I bring word from Lord Varro."
Lord. As if that sycophant of a crime boss had ever earned a title, let alone had a shred of nobility.
"Speak," I ordered, enjoying the slight flinch in his posture as he rose.
The messenger produced a sealed envelope from his coat, holding it out like an offering.
"My master requests the immediate return of his property.
The witch known as Sable." His eyes flicked toward her despite his best efforts, then snapped back to me.
"He is prepared to overlook the deaths of his men as.
.. a misunderstanding. If she is returned within the day, no further action will be taken. "
Behind me, Sable's breath caught.
Property. The word echoed in my skull, and the wolf's rage became my own.
I took the envelope. Broke the seal. Unfolded the letter inside.
The words were exactly what I expected—threats dressed up as diplomacy, demands wrapped in false courtesy. Return what belongs to me. No harm will come to your pack. We can settle this like civilized men. Blah, blah, blah. It was all bullshit.
At the bottom was Varro's signature, and beneath that, a postscript that made my vision go red:
She was mine long before she was yours. She will be mine again.
The wolf didn't ask permission this time. Didn't even hesitate.
I let him have this one.
My claws extended before I'd made the conscious decision to shift. The letter shredded in my grip, pieces falling like snow. But that wasn't enough—couldn't be enough—so I crossed the room in two strides and slammed the messenger against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
He wheezed, feet dangling, my clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Not squeezing. Not yet. Just... holding.
"Alpha—" He choked, gasping for air.
I leaned in close, letting him smell the blood still lingering on my skin from the night before. His men's blood. The scent of what happened to people who touched what was mine.
"Tell me," I said, my voice more growl than words. "Do you know what I did to the last four men Varro sent for her?"
His eyes went wide. His body trembled.
"I see that you do." I smiled, all teeth. "Return to your master," I snarled, my voice more growled order than intelligible words. "Tell him she's not his anymore. His claim on her is just as broken as his mark on her flesh. She will never be his again."
"Alpha—"
"Tell him," I continued, leaning in close, letting him see the fangs that had descended without my permission, "that if he sends another messenger, I'll return them in pieces. If he sends men, I'll build a wall from their bones. And if he comes himself—"
My smile turned into a feral baring of teeth.
"—I'll make what I did to his men last night look like a tiptoe through the fucking tulips."
The messenger stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Cara caught him by the collar and hauled him toward the door.
"You heard the Alpha," she said. "Time to go."
"This is war," the messenger gasped, his outrage returning now that he was out of my grip. "Varro will—"
"Varro will do what Varro does." I turned my back on him, dismissing him entirely. "And I'll be waiting."
The door slammed. Footsteps retreated. Silence settled over the room like ash.
I stood there, breathing hard, claws still extended, the wolf prowling restlessly beneath my skin. It took longer than it should have to pull myself back together—to retract the fangs, sheathe the claws, force my heartbeat into something resembling calm.
When I finally turned around, Sable was staring at me.
Not with fear. Not with gratitude.
With something I couldn't quite read.
"You just started a war," she said quietly. "For me."
It was a war that was always coming, one that had been brewing for years. She was just the catalyst.
"Varro started this war the moment he burned that brand into your wrist." I moved to the window, putting distance between us, trying to ignore the way the wolf wanted to go to her, curl around her, make sure she understood that she was ours and nothing would change that. "I'm just the one delivering the bill."
"You can't win against him. He has resources, connections—"
"I have a pack."
"A pack that's already questioning your judgment." She gestured vaguely toward the door. "I heard what Cara said. Half of them think you've lost your mind."
"Then I'll change their minds."
"How? By making more threats?" She shook her head, wincing at the movement. "Varro doesn't respond to threats, Harkan. He responds to leverage. And right now, the only leverage he cares about is me."
I turned to face her. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying—" She stopped. Swallowed. When she spoke again, her voice was steady, but the fear she tried to hide was threaded beneath it. "I'm saying maybe you should let me go. Cut your losses. Tell Varro it was all a misunderstanding, and he can have his property back."
The wolf roared.
"No."
"Harkan—"
"No." I crossed the room before I could stop myself, stopping at the edge of the bed, close enough to touch but keeping my hands at my sides. "You're not property. You're not leverage. And you're not going back to him."
"You can't just—"
"I can." I held her gaze, letting her see the wolf behind my eyes. "I told you once that I don't break my word. I’m the one who put you in danger. I swore to protect you. I swore to break your chains. And I will burn this entire city to the ground before I let him touch you again."
She stared at me, searching for the lie again.
Still not finding one.
"You're insane," she whispered, her hazel eyes misting just a bit before she blinked the moisture away.
She had me there. "Probably."
"This is insane."
"Definitely."
Something flickered across her face—not quite a smile, but close. The ghost of one, maybe. A memory of what smiling used to feel like.
"I don't trust you," she said.
My lips curved into a rueful grin. "I know."
That sharp gaze narrowed. "And I'm not going to thank you for any of this."
"I don't expect you to."
She studied me for a long moment. Then she sighed, sinking back against the pillows with a wince as her eyes drifted closed.
"I still think you're insane," she murmured.
"Get some rest."
One eye cracked open. "Don't tell me what to do."
I almost laughed. Almost.
The wolf settled, satisfied for now. She was here. She was healing. She was ours, whether she accepted it or not.
And when Varro came—because he would come, sooner or later—I would be ready.
I returned to my post by the door, settling in to wait.
Outside, the pack stirred—whispers and footsteps and the low rumble of discontent. Cara was right. Half of them thought I'd lost my mind. The other half was waiting to see if they were right.
Let them wait.
Let them watch.
Let them see what happened to anyone who threatened what was mine.