Adrian's blood felt warm on Ann's skin. It soaked through her sleeve as she pressed her hand to his wound, trying to stop the flow. His breathing came in ragged bursts, each exhale a promise that he wasn't done fighting.
"Stay with me," she whispered, voice breaking. "Adrian, stay with me—"
He laughed. A raw, painful sound. "You're crying over a scratch?" His hand trembled as he brushed her cheek. "I've had worse, sweetheart."
Ann glanced at Thomas's lifeless body sprawled across the cabin floor. The betrayal stung worse than the coppery smell of blood in her nose. Thomas — the man who used to guard her door, carry her bags, smile at her like she was family — now a corpse because he'd chosen the old wolves over the king he once served.
"They won't stop," she whispered. "Will they?"
Adrian's jaw clenched. He struggled to sit up, and she slipped her arm under his shoulder to steady him. His shirt clung to him, wet and dark.
"No," he rasped. "But neither will I."
She helped him to the battered couch near the fireplace. He leaned back, eyes closed, breathing shallow.
Ann ran to the old kitchen, flinging open every drawer until she found a dusty first-aid kit. Her hands trembled as she knelt before him again, tearing open gauze and a half-empty bottle of antiseptic.
"Hold still," she murmured.
Adrian cracked one eye open, a crooked grin on his lips despite the blood pooling at his side. "Bossing me around already, Mrs. Kingston?"
"Shut up," she snapped, voice shaking as she pressed the antiseptic-soaked cloth to his wound. He hissed through his teeth but didn't flinch.
Outside, the wind howled through the trees. The fire crackled like an audience to their whispered curses and promises.
When the worst of the bleeding was under control, Adrian's hand closed around her wrist. His grip was weaker than usual, but his eyes burned like coals in the dark.
"You should leave," he said hoarsely.
Ann's head jerked up. "What?"
"Take the car. Drive west. There's cash in the glove box. New IDs. You can disappear."
She stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You think I'm leaving you here? Alone? Bleeding? After everything we've done?"
He tried to push himself upright but winced, a growl slipping through clenched teeth. "Ann—"
"No!" She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "You don't get to make that choice for me. You made me a promise, remember? You'd protect me. You think that only works one way?"
His eyes flickered — pride, pain, something dangerously close to love.
"I won't let them take you," he said.
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. "Then don't. But you don't get to die for me either. We fight together now, Adrian. That's how this works."
He laughed again, softer this time. "You're trouble, Mrs. Kingston."
"You married trouble," she shot back.
They sat in silence for a while. The fire popped and spat embers across the hearth. Somewhere in the woods, a branch snapped — an animal, or maybe something worse. They both stiffened.
Adrian's voice broke the quiet. "They'll send more. Thomas was just a leash. They'll keep coming until they think I'm buried next to my father."
Ann pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. "Then we bury them first."
A dark, feral smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You'd make a terrifying queen, you know that?"
She lifted her chin. "Good. Maybe they'll learn to be afraid of me too."
Adrian closed his eyes, as if he could see the chessboard of enemies shifting behind his eyelids. When he opened them again, they were cold and sharp — the CEO mask, the predator in the shadows, fully awake despite the blood loss.
"I have an offshore account," he said. "Money that even the old wolves can't trace. And blackmail files — dirt that would ruin half of them if it ever saw daylight."
Ann nodded slowly. "Then we use it."
His eyebrow arched. "It's not that simple, sweetheart."
"It is," she argued, fire in her voice now. "They came into our home. They put a gun to your head. They made me watch you bleed. They don't get to crawl back into the dark now. We drag them out, screaming if we have to."
Adrian's chest rose and fell with a harsh, broken laugh. "You really do want to watch the world burn."
She brushed the hair from his forehead, her fingers gentle against his cooling skin. "Only if you're standing next to me while it does."
He reached for her hand and squeezed it, blood and soot smudging their skin where they touched.
"Call Viktor," Adrian rasped suddenly. "He owes me. And he hates the family more than I do."
"Viktor?" Ann repeated. "Who's—"
"An old ghost." Adrian's mouth twisted into something halfway between a smile and a snarl. "Ex-enforcer. He vanished years ago, but I know where to find him."
Ann hesitated. "Can we trust him?"
Adrian's eyes flicked to Thomas's corpse. "No. But we can make him need us more than they can buy him."
She swallowed the knot in her throat. "Okay. Then tell me how."
They spent the next hour whispering plans over the crackling fire. Ann wrote down names, accounts, passwords. She listened carefully when Adrian's voice broke from exhaustion. When he drifted off for a few minutes, she watched him sleep — the shadows under his eyes, the lines carved by too many years of war.
In that moment, she understood something she hadn't before: she wasn't just in love with Adrian Kingston, the man. She was bound to the storm inside him too — the part that would never stop fighting, never stop killing if he had to.
And she would stand with him. Even if it destroyed them both.
Near dawn, she slipped out onto the porch, needing air. The forest was pitch black under a sky of bruised clouds. Somewhere far off, she thought she heard a car engine — or maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.
She turned back inside, only to find Adrian leaning in the doorway, gun in hand, his other hand pressed to the fresh bandage on his side.
"You shouldn't be up," she scolded, crossing to him.
He smirked weakly. "Can't let my queen stand guard alone."
Ann wrapped her arms around him carefully, mindful of his wound. His breath ghosted against her temple.
"Do you regret it?" she whispered into his chest. "Bringing me into this?"
He pulled back, tipping her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him. His eyes were steady — fierce.
"I regret every lie I ever told you," he murmured. "But not this. Not you."
She smiled, tears stinging her lashes. "Then we keep going."
He nodded, pressing a bruised kiss to her forehead. "Together."
Inside, the cabin felt smaller now — not a hiding place but a war room. Ann moved to the fireplace, stoking the dying embers back to life. Adrian limped after her, lowering himself into the old armchair with a hiss of pain.
She sat on the armrest, her hand resting on his shoulder. Outside, the woods were waking up — birds calling to each other in the trees, the wind sighing through the pines.
But inside, the king and his queen were wide awake — ready to bring the hunt back to the wolves.