The reinforced oak of the office door detonated inwards. A shower of wooden shrapnel and dust
exploded into the pristine room. Through the gaping, ruined maw of the doorway stepped
Marcus Thorne. He was an image of impossible calm amidst the chaos, his tailored suit
immaculate, his fury a cold, contained thing in his glacial grey eyes.
Vincent moved, a fluid shadow placing himself fully between me and the doorway.
"You will unhand my asset, DeLauro," Marcus stated. It was not a request. It was a corporate
demand.
Vincent let out a short, sharp bark of a laugh. "Your 'asset'? I believe she is my fated prize.
Possession, Thorne. It's the only law that matters."
"An outdated philosophy," Marcus countered, his voice dropping. "True power lies not in
possession, but in control."
While their immense, predatory energies were focused entirely on each other, I made a tactical
move, securing a heavy crystal decanter from the bar. I was a variable they had not properly
calculated.
The standoff was cut short by the buzzing of the office intercom. With a final, withering glare at
Marcus, Vincent stabbed a finger at the button. "What?" he snarled.
A man's voice, thin and reedy with panic, crackled through the speaker. "Sir... we have a
situation at the main entrance. It's... it's the Ashen Claws. They're here. They're asking for you."
The name dropped into the room like a nerve agent.
The change was instantaneous and absolute. The raw aggression vanished from Vincent's
posture. The cold fury in Marcus's eyes was replaced by stark, undisguised alarm. Their personal
war evaporated as if it had never existed. They turned and looked at each other, not as rivals, but
as two soldiers who had just heard the whistle of an incoming mortar shell. It was a look of
shared, profound dread.
Vincent's eyes darted to me, wide with a panic that chilled me to the bone. He knew the scent of
my unique power would be an irresistible beacon to creatures like them.
"Get her out of sight," he snapped, a harsh, urgent command directed at the man whose throat
he'd been ready to tear out. "Now."