Morning arrived like a lie.
The city kept pretending it was fine.
Traffic crawled.
Anchors smiled too wide.
Nobody said the words *classified assets* on live TV.
But Nora could still feel the echo of last night—time turning to cotton in the hallway, Ace's bored voice, the warning that sounded like a joke until it didn't:
*Martyrs don't get happy endings.*
The air tasted wrong when she breathed too deep.
Rain on cut grass.
Like something had caught her scent and was taking its time following it.
Nora didn't have the luxury of hiding.
Rent didn't care about cosmic kings.
The fridge didn't care either.
She made a list and shoved it into her pocket.
Kaelen watched her from the kitchen doorway like she was a door he couldn't let close.
"You're not going out," he said.
Nora didn't look up from tying her shoes.
"I'm going to the pharmacy," she said. "And the ATM."
"You'll be seen," Kaelen snarled.
"Good," Nora said. "Let them see a woman buying cold medicine. Normal scares monsters more than guns do."
Zane, leaning against the counter, lifted an eyebrow.
"That's… almost a strategy," he said.
Kaelen's gaze flicked to him.
"Shut up."
Zane's eyes stayed on Nora.
"Take him," he said quietly. "You'll draw attention."
"I can handle attention," Nora said.
Kaelen's heat flared.
"You can't handle a crowd if someone speaks your name the wrong way."
Nora's throat tightened.
He wasn't wrong.
So she made a choice.
She stood, stepped close to Kaelen, and looked up into his burning eyes.
"May I go out," she said softly, "if you do exactly what I say?"
Kaelen's jaw clenched.
Then he swallowed, hard.
"Yes," he said.
Nora's pulse stuttered.
She hadn't expected it to feel like that.
Consent from a king.
She turned to Zane.
"And you," she said. "No watching me in the changing room."
Zane's mouth curved.
"I don't watch," he said. "I observe."
Nora pointed at the whiteboard.
Zane's smile widened.
"…Fine," he said. "No observing."
Nora opened the door.
Kaelen followed two steps behind.
Zane didn't.
He just… wasn't in the kitchen anymore.
Nora felt his presence anyway—like a shadow stitched to her heels.
A whisper brushed her ear—too close to be real.
"You didn't lock the deadbolt," Zane said.
Nora didn't jump. She refused to give him that.
"I did," she said.
A soft exhale—amused.
"Good girl."
Kaelen's head snapped toward the sound, fury instant.
Nora lifted her hand without looking at him.
"Rule three," she reminded—calm, precise. "Ask."
The stairwell felt colder for a second.
Then Zane was gone again.
They walked down the stairwell.
Kaelen's shoulders brushed the walls.
Every neighbor's door stayed shut.
Nora couldn't blame them.
Outside, the city looked normal.
People walked dogs.
A couple argued over a parking spot.
A kid rode a scooter.
Nora almost believed it.
Then her compass-cold flickered in her ribs.
Rain on cut grass.
Not here.
But closer than yesterday.
Kaelen stiffened.
"You smell that," he said.
Nora forced her voice steady.
"Walk," she ordered.
Kaelen's eyes snapped to her.
She didn't soften.
He obeyed.
They took the subway because it was faster, because she needed to feel like she could.
The station smelled like metal and old water.
Kaelen's heat turned heads.
People looked at him and then looked away too fast.
Nora kept her gaze down and her shoulders squared.
She was just another woman with a tote bag.
Until the air changed.
It hit her halfway down the stairs.
A heavy, invasive scent that didn't belong underground.
Wet earth.
Musk.
Animal heat.
Not Kaelen's clean, burning fire.
This was wild.
Predatory.
It sank into her skin like a hand.
Nora's breath caught.
Around her, the crowd shifted.
Someone coughed.
Someone whispered.
Someone started to panic without knowing why.
Kaelen's head lifted.
His eyes went sharp.
"Stay behind me," he growled.
Nora's throat tightened.
"Rule one," she said.
Kaelen's jaw clenched.
He moved—but not in front of her.
Beside her.
A shield that still let her breathe.
The train screeched in.
Doors opened.
The platform lights flickered once.
Then dimmed.
Nora stepped forward—
and a hand slammed into her shoulder from behind.
She stumbled.
A woman's voice snapped, furious and familiar.
"Move, Nora! God, you're still in the way. Some things never change."
Nora's heart dropped.
She turned.
And saw a face she hadn't seen in years.
Tessa.
Her high school shadow.
The girl who used to "accidentally" trip her in hallways and laugh when Nora fell.
The girl who'd called her invisible like it was a joke.
Tessa's eyes were wide with fear, mascara smudged, hands shaking.
She didn't recognize Kaelen as danger.
She only recognized Nora as convenient.
Tessa shoved again, trying to use her as a human shield.
Nora's stomach went cold.
Kaelen's heat spiked.
Nora felt the air tighten—
felt the exact moment Kaelen's instinct decided the girl was prey.
Nora's voice cut through it.
"Enough."
Kaelen froze.
His eyes burned.
But he held.
Nora looked at Tessa.
At the familiar cruelty.
At the panic that didn't excuse it.
"Don't touch me," Nora said, voice flat.
Tessa blinked, confused by resistance.
"Are you kidding? We're going to die—"
Something moved in the dark.
Fast.
Low.
The crowd screamed.
A blur slammed into the platform.
Not a man.
Not fully.
A beast, too large to fit in the world right, fur slick with shadow, eyes burning gold.
It didn't go for Nora.
It went for Tessa.
Tessa shrieked.
The beast's paw hit her like a car.
She flew.
Hit a pillar.
Dropped.
Still.
Nora's mouth went dry.
Kaelen's chest rose.
His hand went to his blade.
The beast turned.
Its muzzle lifted.
It looked straight at Nora.
Then it lowered its head and inhaled—deep, slow—at her throat.
Nora's skin prickled.
Not pain.
Recognition.
Possession.
The beast's voice—rough, human beneath the growl—rum bled into her bones.
"…Mine," it rumbled.
Kaelen snarled.
The entire station shook.
Nora forced air into her lungs.
Forced her voice steady.
"No," she said.
The beast's golden eyes narrowed.
It didn't attack.
It leaned closer—like a predator deciding whether she was prey or queen.
Nora's hand lifted on instinct.
Not to pet.
To test.
To choose.
Kaelen's heat surged beside her.
His hand hovered at her elbow—ready to pull her back.
He didn't.
He just breathed, hard, and waited for her to decide.
Nora glanced up at him.
Then she rewarded him—lips brushing his knuckles, the same quick, deliberate mark.
Kaelen's breath hitched.
"May I?" she whispered—because she didn't know if touching this thing would burn her, freeze her, or break her.
The beast went still.
Then, impossibly, it bowed its head.
Permission.
Nora's fingertips met fur.
Heat—different from Kaelen's.
Thicker. Earthier.
And under it, a pulse of hunger that wasn't only violence.
It was want.
The beast shuddered.
Kaelen's growl turned savage.
Nora's heart slammed.
Whatever this was—
it had found her.
And it wasn't going to let go.
Somewhere above the platform, a security camera clicked—once—like a throat clearing.
The lens pivoted.
Found her.
Tracked her.
And then it blinked a little red light that wasn't supposed to exist in a public station.
Nora's phone lit up.
Not a call.
Not a text.
A system notification—cold, official, impossible.
LIVE FEED: YOU
Her own face filled the screen, shot from above, timestamped down to the second.
Over it, words typed themselves in clean white letters.
FOUND.
MENU UPDATE PENDING.
00:12
A tone rang through the station—soft, cheerful, wrong.
Like a restaurant bell.
People looked up.
Confused.
Then the screens above the platform flashed the same words.
MENU UPDATED.
The lights stuttered.
The crowd turned into a tide.
And behind Nora, Rix breathed the word against her hair—pleased.
"Queen."