Lyra's POV
The hallway felt like a tomb. Airless.
My hand still hovered over the garbage bag. The cheap plastic slick with sweat.
Damon Storm stood in the private elevator. Stainless steel doors hissed open. Revealing a nightmare.
Seven feet of muscle. Sweat. Barely contained violence. Barefoot. His silk pajamas were shredded. Hanging off him like shed skin. Silver fabric clinging to a chest that heaved with ragged breaths.
And the veins. Black. Pulsing under his skin. Branching up his neck like corrupted ivy. Urgent. Ugly.
I couldn't look away.
Feral.
Seen it before. Six years ago. In the dungeon.
But the eyes...
Worse. Back then, crimson with madness. Now? Molten amber. Dilated so wide the black pupils nearly swallowed the gold.
He wasn't looking at me like an enemy. He was looking at me like I was water. And he was dying of thirst.
"Found..." The word scraped out of his throat. Raw. Sandpaper on stone.
Instincts screamed. Run.
Wolf whispered. Mate.
Brain calculated. Kill him. Before he smells the kids.
"Sir?" Forced my voice to squeak. The damsel. The harmless neighbor with the trash. "Are you... okay? You're bleeding."
Took a step back. Away from the elevator. Away from the predator.
Damon didn't answer. Didn't blink.
He inhaled.
Deep. Shuddering. Seemed to pull the very air from my lungs. Nostrils flared. Whole body trembled. Shoulders snapping back. Wire tight.
"Scent," he murmured. "More."
He stepped out.
One step. Floor vibrated.
"Identify yourself." Growl. Command. Heavy with Alpha authority. Meant to make me kneel. To make me bare my neck.
Gritted my teeth. Fighting the urge to submit. Clutched the garbage bag like a shield.
"I'm Lyra," I said. Backing up. Heels hit my apartment door. Trap. "Lyra Vane. I just moved in. If you're having... a medical emergency, I can call 911."
"No doctors." Another step. "Just you."
Close now. Too close. Smell of him—blood, sweat, cedar, rain. Haunted my dreams. Intoxicating. Biological trap designed to make me weak.
I wasn't weak. Not anymore.
"Stay back," I warned. Dropped the act. Hand slid into the pocket of my sweatpants. Fingers wrapped around a tactical pen. Solid titanium. One strike. Temple. Done.
Damon didn't listen. Driven by something primal. The pain of the Feral State was fading in my presence. Replaced by need. To drown in the source.
Lunged.
Not to attack. To claim.
Dodged left. Fast.
He was faster. Even half-dead. Alpha Prime.
His hand shot out. Slammed against the wall beside my head. Boxed me in. Other hand grabbed my waist. Pulled me flush against his burning body.
"Mine," he snarled.
Buried his face in my neck.
Didn't bite. Inhaled.
Pressed his nose against the pulse point under my jaw. Deep, greedy breath. Stubble scratched my skin. Breath hot. Feverish.
Froze.
Electric. A jolt of pure heat. Shot down my spine. Curled in my belly. My wolf purred.
Traitor.
It wanted this. It wanted him. I wanted to vomit.
"You smell..." groaned against my skin. Voice vibrating through my bones. "...quiet."
Quiet?
High on my scent. The herbal soup. Pheromones. My very existence was a sedative.
Faltered. His weight against me felt... right. Heavy. Grounding. Arms like iron bands. Holding me like I was the only solid thing in a spinning world.
"Please," he whispered. Plea from a King. "Don't move."
Nuzzled closer. Lips brushing the sensitive skin of my throat.
Snap.
Patience broke.
Not a romance novel. This was a hostile. An enemy. Hunting me for six years. Currently sniffing me like a drug dog.
"Get off me!"
Didn't push. Pushing an Alpha is like pushing a mountain.
Used leverage.
Grabbed his shoulders to stabilize myself. Drove my knee up.
Hard.
Right into his obsession.
THUD.
Wet sound. Bone meeting soft tissue. Military-grade strike. Years of training. Repressed annoyance.
Damon froze.
Head snapped up from my neck. Eyes wide. Gold irises flickered. Replaced by very human, very poignant shock.
Air left his lungs in a whoosh. Grip on my waist loosened.
Didn't wait. Shoved him. Stumbled back. Clutching his midsection. Face a mask of disbelief.
"You..." Wheezed. "You hit me."
"I hit a pervert!" Shouted. Channeling my inner outraged neighbor. "What is wrong with you? Is this how you welcome people? Do you sniff everyone in the building?"
Damon blinked. The pain—physical, grounding—did what the medicine couldn't. Cleared the fog.
Black veins on his neck receding. Breathing still ragged. But the animalistic glazing gone. Looked at me. Really looked.
Messy bun. Sweatpants. Garbage bag at my feet. Furious expression.
And under that... the woman who had just dropped the Alpha Prime.
"You're strong," he rasped. Straightening up. Despite the agony. Corner of his mouth quirked up. "For a human."
Lungs burned. He still thought I was human? Good. Blockers held.
"And you're insane," I countered. "Stay away from me. Stay away from my door. Or next time, I won't aim for the soft parts."
Grabbed the doorknob.
"Wait."
Step forward. Didn't look angry. Looked... fascinated.
"The soup," he said. "What was in it?"
Stared at him. "Poison. Clearly."
Slammed the door in his face.
Locked it. Deadbolted it. Engaged the security jammer.
Leaned against the wood. Sliding down to the floor. Chest heaving. Hands shaking. Neck burned where his lips had touched.
"Mommy?" Aries peeked around the corner. "Did you take out the trash?"
"Yes," I breathed. Touching my throat. Pulse jumping. "I took out the trash."
On the other side of the door. A low chuckle.
"Feisty," Damon's voice. Through the wood. "I like it."
Elevator dings. Gone.
Closed my eyes.
He liked it. Of course. Masochist.
Worse... he remembered the scent. Knew where I lived. Knew I had a temper.
Game of cat and mouse had just begun.
And the cat was living upstairs.
Damon's POV
Pain was exquisite.
Radiated from my lower abdomen. Sharp. Throbbing. But compared to the rot of the Feral Madness? Clarity.
Stood in the elevator. Ascending back to the penthouse. Leaned against the mirrored wall. Clutching my stomach. Laughing.
Rough. Rusty sound.
Staff waiting in the lobby froze. Elias dropped his tablet.
"Sir?" Dr. Lee looked terrified. "Are you... in pain?"
"Yes," I grunted. Limping out. "Excruciating."
"We need to get you to the med-bay—"
"No."
Walked past them. Burning in my blood gone. Wolf silent. Curled up. Satisfied.
Scent still clung to my clothes. To my skin.
Lyra Vane.
Single mother. Mean right knee. Scent that could tame a monster.
"Elias." Sat on the remains of my sofa.
"Yes, Alpha?"
"Cancel the search for the hacker."
Elias blinked. "Sir? But the Pig virus..."
"Doesn't matter." Touched my jaw. Remembering the heat of her skin. "New priority."
"Which is?"
Looked at the floor. Imagining the apartment below. The woman pacing in her kitchen.
"Her," I said. "I want to know everything. What she eats. Where she goes. Who hurt her enough to make her strike first."
"You want to investigate her?"
"No." Smirked. Gold in my eyes settling into a predatory burn. "I want to study her."
"Study... her?" Elias looked like he swallowed a lemon. "The broke neighbor?"
"She's not broke," I murmured. "She's the cure."
For the first time in six years. Silence in my head was complete.
I would tear the world apart to keep it.
"Prepare the car," I ordered. "And get me some ice."
"For the fever?" Lee asked.
"No." Winced. Shifting my legs. "For the bruise."
Looked out the window at the city lights.
You can hide, Lyra Vane. You can kick.
But you're mine.
And I never lose.