*Twenty-four hours earlier...*
Aurora crouched in the shadows of the old oak tree across from Marcus's penthouse, her enhanced vision cutting through the darkness like a blade. She had been watching him for three hours now, and what she saw was slowly tearing apart everything she thought she knew about Marcus Blackwood.
The man pacing behind those floor-to-ceiling windows wasn't a cold-blooded killer.
He was a man destroyed by grief.
Marcus moved through his penthouse like a caged wolf, his usually perfect composure completely shattered. His shirt was torn from where he had dove into the Mississippi River. His dark hair hung in his eyes, still damp from the water. But it was his face that made Aurora's chest tighten with an emotion she refused to name.
Marcus Blackwood was crying.
Not the kind of tears she had expected from a man mourning an enemy. These were the raw, desperate tears of someone who had lost everything that mattered.
Aurora pressed herself deeper into the shadows as Marcus stopped in front of his window. Even from across the street, she could see the anguish etched into every line of his face.
*He's grieving for me,* she realized with a shock that went straight through her bones. *Really grieving. Like I meant something to him.*
But that was impossible. They had known each other for less than a week. They were supposed to be enemies.
Weren't they?
---
Aurora watched as Marcus picked up something from his coffee table—her leather jacket, the one she had left on the pier. He held it against his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.
"God, what is wrong with me?" Marcus's voice carried through the open window, raw and broken. "I barely knew her. Five days. Five fucking days, and I..."
He sank onto his couch, still clutching her jacket. Aurora's enhanced hearing caught every word, every broken breath.
"I should have protected her," Marcus whispered to the empty room. "The moment I felt the mate bond, I should have kept her safe. Instead, I let my uncle's men throw her into that river like she was nothing."
Aurora's heart clenched. *Uncle's men?* Marcus knew Vincent was behind the attack?
"She was so strong," Marcus continued, his voice barely audible. "So brave. And beautiful. Christ, she was beautiful. The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't watching... like she was fighting herself about something."
*Because I was,* Aurora thought desperately. *I was fighting falling for you.*
Marcus stood up suddenly and hurled a crystal tumbler against the wall. It shattered, sending sharp fragments across the hardwood floor.
"She's dead because of me!" he roared. "Because of my family's fucking war with everyone! Because I couldn't keep the one person who mattered safe!"
Aurora flinched at the pain in his voice. This wasn't what she had expected. This wasn't the cold, calculating killer who had supposedly ordered her family's death.
This was a man in agony.
And suddenly, Aurora realized something that made her blood run cold.
*What if I've been wrong about everything?*
---
Marcus walked to his liquor cabinet and poured himself three fingers of whiskey. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the glass.
"You know what the worst part is?" he said to Aurora's jacket, which he had carefully laid out on the couch. "I think I was falling in love with you. Stupid, right? Five days, and I would have done anything to keep you safe."
Aurora's breath caught in her throat. Through the mate bond, she could feel the truth of his words like a physical force.
Marcus drained the whiskey in one gulp and poured another.
"I should have told you about Vincent," he continued. "Should have warned you that my uncle had gone rogue. But I thought I could handle it. Thought I could keep you safe without dragging you into the pack's business."
Vincent. His uncle. Aurora's mind raced as pieces of a puzzle she hadn't even known existed began clicking into place.
"My father trusted Vincent," Marcus said quietly. "Loved him like a brother. And when Dad died, I kept Vincent close because I thought that's what Dad would have wanted. I didn't realize until tonight that he's been planning to destroy everything my family built."
Marcus finished his second drink and set the glass down with shaking hands.
"Vincent told me tonight that you were a threat to the pack. Said you were sent here by our enemies to seduce me and gather information. I didn't believe him, but..." Marcus's voice broke. "But I let him convince me to put security on you. And those men, they weren't supposed to hurt you. They were just supposed to watch."
Aurora's eyes widened in understanding. Marcus hadn't ordered her death. He had ordered her protection. And Vincent had twisted those orders into a kill command.
"When Vincent told me you had 'fallen' into the river," Marcus continued, his voice thick with self-loathing, "I knew. I knew he had done something to you. The way he smiled when he said it..."
Marcus buried his face in his hands.
"I'm going to kill him," he whispered. "I'm going to rip Vincent apart with my bare hands for what he did to you. And then I'm going to find whoever else was involved in this and make them pay."
Through the mate bond, Aurora felt the rage building in Marcus like a tsunami. Dark, violent rage that promised death and destruction for anyone who had hurt her.
It was exactly the kind of rage she had been carrying for ten years.
And suddenly, Aurora understood something fundamental about the man she had come here to destroy.
Marcus Blackwood wasn't her enemy.
He was exactly like her.
---
Aurora was so focused on Marcus that she almost missed the movement in the alley behind her.
*Almost.*
Her enhanced senses kicked in just as the first attacker lunged. Aurora spun, her hand instinctively reaching for the silver knife in her boot, but there were three of them. Professional mercenaries, by the look of their gear.
Vincent's men.
*Shit.* They had found her.
Aurora dodged the first man's grab and slashed out with her knife, opening his throat in one smooth motion. But the second attacker was already on her, and the third was raising some kind of dart gun.
*Tranquilizer,* Aurora realized. They wanted her alive.
Which meant Vincent knew she had survived the river.
Aurora fought like the three-blood hybrid she was, using speed and strength that no normal human could match. But these men knew what she was. They had come prepared.
The dart hit her in the shoulder just as she broke the second attacker's neck.
Aurora staggered, feeling the drug burning through her system. Her vision started to blur, and her enhanced strength began to fade.
*No,* she thought desperately. *Not when I'm so close to the truth.*
The third mercenary stepped toward her, another dart loaded and ready.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he said with a cold smile. "Vincent just wants to have a little chat with you. About your family."
Aurora's blood turned to ice. *Her family.* Vincent knew exactly who she was.
Which meant Marcus was in danger too.
With the last of her strength, Aurora threw her knife. It caught the mercenary in the eye, and he dropped like a stone.
But the drug was winning. Aurora's legs gave out, and she collapsed behind the oak tree, fighting to stay conscious.
*Have to warn Marcus,* she thought frantically. *Have to tell him about Vincent.*
But even as she tried to reach for her phone, the world went dark.
---
Aurora woke up in hell.
Or at least, what looked like hell. She was chained to a metal chair in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. The air smelled of rust and old blood, and the only light came from a single bare bulb hanging overhead.
Vincent Rousseau sat across from her, looking exactly like the monster from her nightmares.
"Hello, Aurora," he said pleasantly. "Or should I say, Aurora Nightshade? Last survivor of the Nightshade Pack?"
Aurora said nothing, but her mind was racing. How long had she been unconscious? Was Marcus safe?
"You know," Vincent continued, "I have to admire your dedication. Ten years of planning. A complete identity change. Infiltrating Marcus's life so perfectly that he actually fell for you."
Vincent leaned forward, his pale eyes glittering with malice.
"Did you really think I wouldn't figure out who you were? The moment Marcus told me about his new girlfriend with silver hair and violet eyes, I knew. There's only one family in the supernatural world with those particular genetic markers."
Aurora tested the chains binding her wrists. Silver, of course. They burned against her skin, suppressing her enhanced abilities.
"The question is," Vincent said, standing up and beginning to pace, "what exactly were you planning to do once you got close to him? Kill him in his sleep? Poison him? Or were you going to do something more... creative?"
"I was going to make him suffer," Aurora said quietly. "The way my family suffered."
Vincent laughed, a sound like breaking glass.
"Oh, my dear girl. You have no idea how much Marcus is going to suffer when he finds out the truth about you. When he learns that the woman he's falling in love with came here to destroy him."
"He already knows," Aurora said, meeting Vincent's gaze steadily. "I told him everything."
Vincent's smile faltered. "Impossible. Marcus would never—"
"We made a deal," Aurora interrupted. "He helps me find my family's real killer, and I help him clean up his pack."
For the first time since Aurora had woken up, Vincent looked genuinely surprised.
"You know about the pack's corruption?"
"I know about you," Aurora said softly. "I know you've been embezzling pack funds. I know you've been selling weapons to both sides of supernatural conflicts. And I know you killed my family to start a war that would make you rich."
Vincent's face went very still.
"Clever girl," he said finally. "Though not quite clever enough."
He pulled out his phone and showed Aurora the screen. It was a live video feed of Marcus's penthouse.
Marcus was still there, still holding Aurora's jacket, still lost in grief.
"One phone call," Vincent said conversationally, "and my men will put a silver bullet through his head. The last of the Blackwood line, dead because he fell for the wrong woman."
Aurora's heart clenched with terror. "What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted," Vincent replied. "Power. Control. And an end to the old bloodlines that stand in my way."
He put the phone away and walked closer to Aurora.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said. "You're going to call Marcus. You're going to tell him that you lied about everything. That you never cared about him. That you were just using him to get close enough for revenge."
"And if I don't?"
"Then he dies anyway. But at least this way, he won't die thinking the woman he loves is a liar."
Aurora closed her eyes, feeling the weight of an impossible choice.
Save Marcus's life by breaking his heart.
Or let Vincent kill them both.
*There has to be another way,* she thought desperately. *There has to be.*
But as Vincent's men brought her a phone, Aurora realized she was out of time.
And out of options.
*End of Chapter 7*