Chapter 7
* * *
The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting long shadows across the forest floor. A soft halo of orange lit the thick camping blanket where Candy lay curled against Aeolus’s chest, her breathing slow and steady, her lashes fanned over flushed cheeks.
The night had deepened into that hushed, sacred stillness only ancient woods knew—where even the wind moved carefully, where the only sounds were the whisper of leaves and the low, dying crackle of flame.
And still, Aeolus didn’t sleep.
He sat upright, broad back braced against a tree stump, arms wrapped around her with the kind of possessive reverence that only a mated wolf could understand. His fingers traced slow, almost absent circles across her bare shoulder, memorizing the feel of her skin.
She looked so peaceful like this. Soft. Warm. Safe.
His.
For a few fleeting hours, he’d let himself believe they were untouchable out here. Alone in the woods. No eyes. No threats. Just the sound of her breathing and the steady beat of her heart against his.
Then his phone vibrated.
The soft hum against the ground might as well have been a war drum.
His wolf surged up like a beast unleashed, snapping to attention beneath his skin, demanding blood before the call even connected.
Candy stirred against him, mumbling something soft, but Aeolus pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, grounding her before she could fully wake.
He grabbed the phone and brought it to his ear.
“Talk.”
His voice came out low, gritted, already halfway feral.
Atlas’s voice was a cold blade slicing through the quiet.
“We found him.”
Everything inside Aeolus went still.
His jaw flexed. Muscles locked.
Atlas continued, no hesitation. “Name is Elias Dragovic. Elder vampire. Old blood. General-level rank. Strategist. Sadist. He’s been investing time, resources, and men into tracking Candy for years.”
Aeolus’s grip on the phone tightened until the casing groaned under the pressure.
“Why?”
There was a pause. Then: “He’s convinced she’s his reincarnated bride. A soul-bond that stretches back centuries. He’s not stalking her anymore, Aeolus. He’s claiming her.”
Every cell in Aeolus’s body turned to violence.
His blood thickened. His pulse slowed.
He didn’t speak.
Ares’s voice cut in then—rougher, meaner. Deadlier.
“He’s moving. No more shadow play. He’s coming for her. With force.”
Aeolus’s vision sharpened, his senses expanding outward. He could already feel the threat at their borders, smell it in the wind.
“How close?”
“Close enough to count down minutes,” Ares said. “Strike team. Ten minimum. Vampire-heavy. A few witches. Trained. Bought. Blood loyal.”
A muscle in Aeolus’s jaw ticked as he scanned the treeline, already preparing.
“Can we intercept?”
“No,” Atlas replied. “They’re too fast, and the terrain’s tight. If we move now, we lose the element of surprise. They’re coming straight for you. We hold the second line. You hold the front.”
Aeolus’s mind raced.
Then Atlas’s voice dropped, grim and final.
“There’s more. The locket.”
The one Betsy gave Candy.
Aeolus stilled.
His voice turned lethal. “What about it?”
“It’s a tracker.”
Silence.
The word dropped like a bomb.
Atlas’s voice remained steady. “Clever design. Only activates near wireless networks. Passive unless pinged. That’s why we didn’t catch it earlier. He must’ve used it to triangulate their last few locations—long enough to move, not long enough to tip us off.”
Aeolus stared down at Candy, curled into him with that goddamn locket nestled against her heart like a shield.
She didn’t know.
The one thing she’d kept close—the final connection to her sister before they were separated—had betrayed her.
“How long do we have?” Aeolus asked, voice quiet now. Deadly quiet.
Ares answered without flinching. “Less than an hour.”
Aeolus was already moving.
He eased Candy off his lap with careful, deliberate hands, setting her gently on the blanket. She murmured in protest, one hand reaching blindly for him, but he stood, towering, tense.
The decision was made.
They weren’t running.
They were fighting.
“I’ll call when we engage,” Atlas said. “We’re coming.”
Aeolus hung up without a word.
For a moment, the forest was silent again.
Then Candy stirred, her brow furrowing, the rhythm of her breath changing.
“Aeolus?” she whispered, voice thick with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with dreams—until they met his.
The second she saw his face, she snapped upright.
“What happened?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“He’s coming.”
She went still. “Who?”
He stepped forward, gaze locked on the delicate silver chain around her neck.
Her locket.
The one Betsy had given her before they left.
Without a word, he reached out—and ripped it from her throat.
The chain snapped like thread.
“Aeolus—” she gasped, scrambling up, hands out. “What the hell are you doing?”
He met her gaze, eyes dark, lips pressed in a hard, grim line. Then he threw the locket into the fire.
It hit the coals with a hiss. Metal screamed. A faint, almost invisible spark of magic lit the ashes for a split second.
Gone.
Candy’s breath caught. “That was from Betsy!”
His voice was low, unrelenting. “It had a tracker inside.”
She froze.
The world narrowed.
“No,” she whispered.
Aeolus stepped closer. “She didn’t know. But Elias did.”
Her hand lifted to her throat, to the empty space where it used to rest.
Everything in her unraveled at once.
“He’s been tracking me,” she breathed.
Aeolus nodded once.
Candy’s eyes burned. “How long?”
“Too long.”
She swayed where she stood, the betrayal of it, the violation, the violation of her trust, gutting her. The one thing she had kept close. Her sister’s last gift. A link to safety.
It had doomed them.
But then—beneath the shock, the heartbreak, the rage—something else rose.
Resolve.
She squared her shoulders. Straightened her spine.
Her voice was tight, but clear. “How much time?”
“Less than an hour.”
She blinked. Then nodded.
And just like that, Candy Laurent—siren, survivor, fighter—rose.
Her power might still be dulled, her strength not yet returned, but her spirit? Her fury?
Unshaken.
“I’m not running.”
Aeolus’s eyes gleamed with something savage.
“I wouldn’t let you,” he growled.
They stood in the firelight, wolves and sirens, fate and fury.
Not prey.
Not this time.
She reached for his hand. “We do this together.”
Aeolus’s grip crushed hers in agreement.
And behind them, the embers flared.
Because Elias Dragovic was coming—
And he was walking straight into a slaughter.
* * *
The forest had turned quiet—too quiet.
That eerie, suffocating stillness before the first drop of blood was spilled. The kind of silence that wrapped around your throat like a noose and whispered, not everyone walks away from this.
Candy could feel it in her bones. The way the trees leaned in. The wind held its breath. The way her mate moved like a storm barely restrained.
Aeolus stood just a few feet away, back to her, massive frame outlined in silver moonlight. He was still shirtless from sleep, his body streaked with dirt and sweat, muscles taut as he stared into the trees. Waiting. Listening.
The fire had long died out. Only ash remained.
“They’ll come from the east,” he muttered. “But they’ll sweep around to flank from the south.”
Candy stepped closer. “How do you know?”
“I would.”
There was something cold in his voice now. Sharp. Calculating. Like he was already stepping into the kill zone in his mind. Already laying bodies at his feet.
Her chest tightened. “Aeolus—”
He turned.
And gods help her, he looked like war incarnate.
Golden hair tousled, face set like stone, eyes like ice set on fire. He was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm a man wore before walking into the jaws of death.
“Take the northern ridge,” he said, voice low but implacable. “Stay off the trails. Run until you hit the cliffs. There’s a ranger shelter stashed between the rocks. Signal once you’re there—I’ll come find you.”
Candy froze. “No.”
His jaw flexed. “Candy—”
“No.” Her voice was steel. “You’re not doing this.”
He stepped forward, towering over her, a snarl barely contained beneath the surface. “They’re coming for you, Candy. Not me. If I draw them away—”
“You’re not a decoy,” she snapped. “You’re not bait. You’re not sacrificing yourself so I can hide in some cave and hope you survive.”
“I’m the alpha,” he growled. “This is what I do. I protect what’s mine.”
“Well, I’m your mate,” she fired back, stepping chest-to-chest with him, “and what I do is stand my damn ground.”
His hands gripped her upper arms, not rough, but firm—anchoring her. “If something happens to you—”
“Then we go down together.”
His face twisted, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You don’t get to choose for me,” she whispered fiercely. “Not anymore.”
Aeolus’s hands dropped to her waist, pulling her against him so tightly she could feel the wild, erratic rhythm of his heart. “You think I can fight knowing you’re still in the blast radius? You think I can focus when he’s hunting you like prey?”
“I think,” she whispered, cupping his face, “that you’re stronger with me at your side.”
His breath stuttered.
Her words hit like a brand.
She wasn’t just his weakness.
She was his weapon, too.
Aeolus’s forehead dropped to hers, eyes closing for a breath, two, three. Then he growled low in his chest and kissed her—hard, like a man surrendering to the only thing that ever made him feel whole.
When he pulled back, his voice was a rasp. “If we do this your way…”
Candy smiled, soft and deadly. “We make it count.”
He looked at her—really looked—and then he nodded.
The wolves would come.
The vampires would strike.
And Elias would bring an army.
But Aeolus and Candy?
They weren’t running.
They were the reckoning.
* * *
* * *
Elias Dragovic stood at the edge of the clearing, the tips of his boots damp with dew and blood.
He tilted his head.
Listened.
Smiled.
The forest held its breath, and the night bent around him like it knew who he was—what he was. The shadows parted, reverent, terrified.
And then—
He inhaled.
The scent hit him like a drug.
Candy Laurent.
Not just her perfume or the natural sweetness of her skin. No, what Elias hunted was deeper. Older. The essence of her, soaked into her blood, etched into her soul.
He moaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut in rapture.
“Finally.”
She was near. So close he could taste her on the wind.
He opened his eyes slowly, red irises glowing like twin coals in the dark. A shudder of pleasure rippled through his body, and he rolled his neck with a crack, like a man stretching before a massacre.
She didn’t understand. She never did.
But he would fix that.
He always did.
Because love, real love, is meant to hurt.
And Candy?
Candy had been hurting him for lifetimes.
Running from him. Forgetting him. Choosing to live while he died—again and again and again.
His smile widened.
“Not this time, sweetheart,” he whispered to the trees. “This time, you bleed for me.”
He reached into his coat, pulled out a crumpled photo—a candid shot of Candy taken two weeks ago, her head tilted back in laughter at a coffee shop, unaware. Vulnerable. Glowing.
His fingers smoothed over the image like a caress, his thumb pressing hard over her throat.
“I’ve missed your voice,” he murmured. “Your screams are my favorite song.”
Behind him, a figure emerged—a soldier, vampire-born, one of the best. Trained for war. Immortal.
He didn’t matter.
None of them did.
“My lord,” the soldier began, but his voice faltered under Elias’s grin. “They’ve fortified the perimeter. The wolves are here. Aeolus, Adonis—”
Elias didn’t blink.
The name tasted bitter on his tongue. Aeolus. The wolf who dared to touch her. Claim her. Defile what was his.
The soldier shifted. “The Stavros pack won’t—”
“Shhhh.” Elias pressed a finger to his own lips, his head slowly turning.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
“I don’t care about your pack wars. I don’t care about your Council. I don’t care about politics or rules or treaties.”
He took a step forward.
“She is mine.”
The soldier stiffened. “My lord—”
Elias struck.
One moment, he was yards away. The next, his hand was around the soldier’s throat, lifting him off the ground.
He leaned in, his voice velvet-coated poison. “Do you know what it’s like to watch someone live without you? To be reborn, over and over, forgetting your name, your hands, your kiss?”
The soldier gagged, clawing at Elias’s arm. Useless.
“She laughed at me once,” Elias whispered, eyes distant. “She begged me to let her go. And do you know what I did?”
The soldier choked.
Elias smiled wider. “I ripped out her heart and wore it like a jewel.”
And then—
A twist.
Snap.
The body crumpled at his feet like discarded trash.
Elias adjusted his collar, brushing imaginary dust from his lapel.
“You’re all so dramatic about death,” he sighed. “She dies beautifully, you know. She always does.”
He stepped over the corpse, his boots uncaring. The trees ahead rustled with fear as he moved forward, slow, deliberate.
This wasn’t about killing Candy.
This was about reminding her.
Reminding her who she was.
Who they were.
He would drag her screaming into memory.
He would burn the lies from her mind until there was nothing left but him.
And when she remembered?
Oh, when she finally remembered…
He would break her bones into the right shape.
Carve his name into her skin if he had to.
But this time?
This time, she would love him properly.
Whether she wanted to or not.
Elias paused at the edge of the tree line, staring into the distance.
She was there.
Warm. Breathing. Mortal.
Still his.
A twisted smile stretched across his face.
“Run, Candy,” he whispered. “Please… run.”
He licked his lips.
“I love it when they scream.”