Five days had passed since the fight in her flat, and Alex was beginning to feel decidedly restless. She wasn't used to staying still for so long, but she had felt weak, sore, and utterly drained—she had slept almost nonstop.
That morning, however, she felt a little better. The sun must have been shining outside in a cloudless sky, judging by the amount of light filtering through the curtains. She felt a sudden urge to breathe fresh air, to feel the breeze on her face.
Taking advantage of Michael's absence—he had been thoughtful, if a little overly protective—she slowly pushed herself upright and sat up. She waited for the room to stop spinning, then carefully stood, leaning against the wall for support. A rush of blood went to her head and she closed her eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Then, slowly, she made her way to the window.
When she drew back the curtain, the view stole her breath. Her eyes widened in surprise. She had no idea where she was—the night she'd arrived, she had been unconscious, and since then, confined to that room. She certainly hadn't expected anything like this.
The lawn outside was broken up by neatly trimmed hedges, each perfectly shaped, and in the distance she could see a shimmering pond glinting in the sunlight. She opened the window, and the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers filled her lungs. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, fragrant air revive her.
"You shouldn't be up!"
Michael's voice made her jump; she hadn't heard him come in. She turned her head to look at him.
"I'm feeling better," she reassured him with a small smile. "This place is beautiful."
He stepped closer. "As soon as you're up to it, I'll take you for a walk in the park."
"Why not now?" she asked, eyes bright.
He raised an eyebrow, but she was already rummaging through her bag and had pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt.
"Give me a moment to get ready," she said, gesturing for him to wait outside.
Getting washed up had been difficult, but now she felt more like herself. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She'd seen better days. The wound on her leg had healed, and the stitches had been removed while she was unconscious, but the one on her side still ached, and she had to move carefully.
Still, that wasn't going to stop her. She needed to get out of that room—she was starting to feel like a prisoner!
---
Michael led her along the winding paths of the park, recounting the history of the estate. Built in 1688, the mansion had always belonged to the Barclay family, who also owned property in Scotland—their place of origin. Alex listened attentively, clearly intrigued. They strolled past aromatic herb gardens and neatly trimmed rose beds. Eventually, they arrived at the edge of a small lake.
"Would you like to sit and rest?" he asked.
She nodded and settled onto the soft grass near the water's edge. Michael followed suit, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his elbows, letting the sunlight warm his skin.
Alex remained quiet, watching the sunlight flicker across the lake's surface in shimmering ripples. Michael felt a pang in his chest at the thought that soon—once she had fully recovered—he would have to send her away. It was of little comfort that he wouldn't erase her memories of him, since he wouldn't see her again for who knew how long anyway. He wondered if his decision was selfish. Perhaps wiping her memories would have been kinder, but the thought of her forgetting him entirely was unbearable.
As if sensing his gaze, she turned to him. The sunlight formed a glowing halo around her head, illuminating the golden highlights in her hair.
"Why did you ever leave this place?" she asked. "It's beautiful."
He straightened up, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Unfortunately, my mother and I never got along," he said. "Eight years ago, I moved to London."
After Evelyn's death, he added silently.
"What about your family?" he asked. "Where are they?"
"I never had one." Seeing his puzzled expression, she went on, "The police found me at a gas station. I never knew who my parents were. I grew up in institutions."
"You were never adopted?"
His voice was full of surprise and disbelief.
Alex shrugged. "I wasn't an easy child."
Which is putting it mildly, she thought, turning her gaze back to the lake. She had been aggressive, withdrawn, and resistant to any form of discipline. The families who had taken her in when she was young had all returned her to the orphanage within a month or two. As she got older, she learned to hide whenever prospective adoptive parents came to visit. Then came the escape attempts. Finally, at fifteen, she managed to run away for good.
She found a job as a waitress in a pub and rented a room of her own. Later, she enrolled in a street fighting course, where her instructor quickly saw her potential. He taught her how to channel her aggression into combat, and when she became skilled enough, he introduced her to the underground fighting circuit. Eventually, she moved on to bladed combat—sword and dagger—which proved to be not only more thrilling but also more profitable, since far fewer fighters competed in that arena compared to traditional fight clubs.
Michael was speechless at her story. When Alex turned to look at him, she saw astonishment and sadness in his eyes.
"I don't want your pity," she said sharply, her jaw clenched.
He quickly looked away. "Sorry," he murmured, genuinely apologetic. "It must have been hard."
She shrugged again. "When it's your reality, it doesn't feel so different from anyone else's."
Michael fell silent, trying to imagine the world she had grown up in—a reality so different from his own, where family bonds were tight, and the pack offered a strong support system. He tried to imagine her loneliness, her guarded relationship with the world… Now, he finally understood her behavior, her instinct to keep others at a distance. And he felt honored that she had chosen to share all this with him.
"What happened eight years ago?" she asked gently.
Her question pulled him from his thoughts.
"My sister, Evelyn, died."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you by bringing it up."
He shrugged. "It was a long time ago."
But it still hurts like it happened yesterday… and I still miss her.
Her hand on his shoulder made him look up.
"I didn't mean to make you sad."
He smiled. "Looks like we both picked some heavy topics today."
She tensed for a moment, but then a faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Yeah."
Michael stood and extended a hand to help her up.
"We'd better head back to the house. I think I've worn you out enough for one day."
Alex hesitated for a second before accepting his hand. Then she grasped it and slowly got to her feet.
---
"Mick, brother!" Andy's voice reached them just as they stepped inside the villa, and a moment later he appeared. He gave Michael a quick once-over, then smiled, clearly satisfied.
"I'm glad to see you've bounced back! Christopher just filled me in on everything that happened. You should've called me—I would've come back immediately!"
Then he turned to Alex.
"Sorry," he said, extending his hand. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Andy, and it looks like we all owe you for saving our Michael."
Alex shook his hand.
"Now I'm the one in their debt," she replied with a polite smile.
"Alright, enough with the pleasantries!" Michael said, motioning toward the circular sitting room to the left, where Christopher stood waiting in the doorway. "Let's have a drink and relax. You can tell us how things went in Dublin."
"If you'll excuse me," Alex said, "I think I'll go rest."
Michael turned to her.
"Everything alright?"
She nodded.
"I'll see you at lunch then."
She gave a small wave and headed up the stairs. Once in her room, she went straight to the window and took in the view of the park. She wasn't truly tired, but the gathering downstairs felt too familiar—too close—and she just needed some time to herself.
---
"You've really got a thing for that human," Andy said once they were seated in front of the fireplace.
Michael shot him a look.
"My love life is not open for discussion."
"So it's more serious than I thought."
"There's nothing going on, Andy. And there can't be. Someone tried to kill me, and to get to me, they nearly took her out too. So once she's fully recovered, we'll take her somewhere safe. And that will be the end of it."
Andy looked like he was about to argue, but Michael raised a hand to cut him off. The other man raised an eyebrow and seemed to consider pushing the topic, but in the end he let it go.
"Alright then. So—what's the alpha saying about all this?"
"Not much, really," Christopher answered, giving his brother time to compose himself. "She's only interested in tracking down whoever was behind the attack on Michael, so they can be punished."
"She wants to protect the family's honor," Michael added, his voice almost a growl.
"But not her territory," Andy said, turning toward Christopher.
Christopher nodded.
"She didn't authorize any action on her end, so the only ones we've got in town are Raeg, Ty, Leon, and Lucian. But as you can imagine, there's only so much they can do. Raeg did catch a werewolf in the middle of attacking a human. The guy refused to surrender—he actually attacked him—so Raeg had no choice but to kill him. The disappearances keep happening, and we're powerless to stop them."
"Well, now you've got me," Andy said.
"Good," Christopher replied with a nod.
Despite his polished, elegant appearance, Andy—like Raeg, Ty, Lucian, and Leon—had a background in the special forces. Skilled in both armed and hand-to-hand combat, his heightened senses had made him a formidable soldier, and later an exceptional officer.
"And Sabrina?"
"I haven't told her what happened yet. I've postponed her return to Barclay House."
Andy's serious expression shifted suddenly.
"So, how about lunch? I'm starving!"
Michael laughed, a sound that finally cut through the lingering tension.
"Let's go!"
---
Nereus parked the SUV in the gravel lot in front of the massive warehouse. As he shut the door, one of the large iron gates slid open, revealing a man dressed entirely in black. When Nereus approached, the man stepped aside, allowing the leader to enter.
They passed through the entrance hall, monitored by security cameras, and reached the hand-to-hand combat training room. Notte was barefoot on a tatami-covered floor, moving between pairs of men engaged in sparring. He moved silently among them, observing and correcting the werewolves' techniques. Nereus watched the training for a few minutes, then moved on.
When they reached the shooting range, he observed four wolves aiming at their targets. One of them failed to hit the target entirely, while another, a redhead, managed a bullseye. The other two landed a couple of hits on the silhouettes.
"How many soldiers have we recruited so far?"
"Almost fifty, sir."
"Is their training level this poor across the board?"
"No, sir. These were just recruited this week. They're at the beginning of their training."
"Good. I want them combat-ready as soon as possible."
"We'll do our best, sir."
---
Andy left for Oldgrove in the afternoon. Raeg had already assigned him to patrol the eastern outskirts that night, paired with Lucian. He had just enough time to stop home, shower, and gear up.
When Michael reached the study, he found Christopher pacing with his phone in hand, staring into space.
"What happened?"
Christopher stopped and turned toward his brother, needing a moment to focus.
"Natalie called," he said finally. "We were right—Nereus is turning Oldgrove's humans, and he's gathered a pack of strays around him. He's training them..."
"He wants to challenge us for control of the pack and the territory?"
Christopher shook his head. Then his eyes locked onto his brother's.
"He wants much more. The werewolves Natalie spoke to are talking about a new era—one where wolves rule over humans."
"Nereus is insane!"
"We have to stop him before he exposes us!"
"Did Natalie manage to find out where they're hiding?"
"Not yet. All she knows is there's a training center somewhere outside the city."
"We need to warn our mother."
Christopher nodded. "I was about to call her. I'll tell her to come back."
Michael nodded as well, then gripped his brother's shoulder.
"We'll get through this. This territory has belonged to our family for five centuries. We're not going to let him take it."