Ariana's legs refused to move.
Kian stood so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body, mingling with the cold rain that clung to her skin. The alley behind them was silent except for the soft drip of blood from the creature he'd killed.
A creature that shouldn't exist.
She pressed her palms flat against the wall, trying to ground herself.
"Why did you call me that?" she whispered. "Why did you say I'm yours?"
Kian's eyes flickered—not confusion, not regret. Something deeper. Older.
Because he meant it.
He took a slow breath, his chest rising under the torn fabric of his shirt.
"You don't feel it yet," he said. "But you will."
Her throat tightened.
"I don't know who you are."
"That's the problem," he murmured. "You were never supposed to be raised away from us."
"Us?" Her voice broke. "You mean wolves? Packs? Monsters?"
His jaw tightened at the last word.
"You're not a monster," he said softly. "And neither am I. Not to you."
A warm shiver ran down her spine despite the fear clawing at her ribs.
He stepped closer, careful, slow—as if he were approaching something frightened but precious. Rain dripped from his hair, sliding down the sharp curve of his cheekbone. His scent hit her then—cool night air, pine, and something wild that made her breath catch.
Ariana swallowed.
"You killed… whatever that thing was. With your bare hands."
"It would have killed you," he replied simply. "You were targeted tonight."
"Why?"
"Because you're awakening."
The pressure behind her eyes throbbed again, strong enough to make her gasp and brace the wall.
Kian moved instantly—hands hovering near her waist but not touching, like he wanted to pull her close but fought the urge.
"Ariana," he said, voice low, "look at me."
She lifted her gaze.
Wrong move.
His eyes weren't just gold; they burned. Deep, alive, shifting. She felt something pull inside her chest—an invisible thread tightening, drawing her toward him. Her heart pounded a rhythm that didn't feel like panic anymore.
It felt like recognition.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "This can't be real."
Kian exhaled slowly.
"I know it's overwhelming. But tonight was just the beginning. More will come for you."
She pushed past him abruptly, stumbling into the rain-soaked street.
"No. I need to go home. I need—time. Space. Something."
Kian didn't follow immediately. He stood in the alley's mouth like a shadow sculpted from moonlight and muscle.
"If I let you walk home alone," he said, "you will not make it to your door alive."
She stopped.
Her skin prickled in cold fear—and something else. Trust? Why?
He stepped into the street.
"You don't have to like me. But you're not safe without me."
"And with you?" she shot back. "Am I safe then?"
The corner of his mouth lifted—not quite a smile. Something darker.
"With me," he said slowly, "no one on this earth or under it will touch you."
The way he said it…
A promise.
A threat.
A vow.
Ariana sucked in a sharp breath.
Her mind screamed to run.
Her body leaned toward him anyway.
Lightning cracked across the sky.
Kian extended his hand—steady, warm, waiting.
"Let me take you somewhere safe."
She hesitated only a heartbeat.
Then she stepped toward him.
Just as her fingers brushed his palm, headlights blasted into the street.
A black SUV screeched around the corner.
Tires screamed.
Doors flew open.
Figures in dark hoods leaped out—eyes glowing red.
Kian snarled—a sound too deep, too primal to be human.
"Behind me," he growled.
Ariana didn't have to be told twice.
The creatures spread out, closing in.
Kian's muscles tensed, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"They want you alive."
He glanced back at her, eyes flashing with possessive fire.
"I don't intend to let them have you."
And with a roar that shook the rain itself, Kian launched forward.
The second battle of the night had begun.