(Nyx POV)
The third knock rattled the carved doors hard enough to make the sconces tremble.
Whatever waited outside wasn't bold—it was desperate.
Dorian moved, slow and fluid, muscles sliding beneath skin still branded by my bite. The air shifted with his movement, that electric trace of power that never left a Lycan, even at rest.
He bent for his trousers, drew them on in one smooth motion, then stepped into the gray sweats tossed over the chair. The fabric clung, outlining everything I remembered from the dark.
My pulse stuttered. I stared, shameless. His mouth curved, wicked and knowing.
"Keep those thoughts, mate," he said, voice a low vibration that skimmed my skin. "I'll be back to collect them."
Heat burned my cheeks. Kelly purred in my head, Our mate's pure sin.
Another round of pounding shattered the quiet. Duty had found us.
Dorian exhaled, half-growled. "If the palace is burning, they'd still be wise to give me five more minutes."
The sheet slid off my shoulder. "Hmm, what could we accomplish in five minutes?"
Gold flickered in his eyes—Lycan rising. He ignored my question, instead, "Stay here."
"Not a chance." I reached for my leathers, not caring that I was naked. "If someone's pounding at dawn, it isn't for breakfast."
He started to argue. I touched his wrist instead. "Don't change what we are. I can be your mate first—but don't kill the soldier. Let her stay."
The bond hummed between us, alive with defiance and restraint.
He nodded once. "As you wish, soldier-queen."
I buckled the thigh sheath and holstered the Glock. The world could end; I'd still be armed.
Dorian crossed to the door, bare feet silent on marble. He unlatched the locks. Two guards nearly fell inside, faces gray.
"Sire," one gasped, bowing so fast his helmet clanked. "Forgive the intrusion—urgent matter. A body was found below the eastern tower. Assassin's gear. He fell—or was thrown."
Dorian's voice went cold. "You're certain?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. The mark on his wrist—Black Fang."
The name made my wolf bristle. Black Fang. Silent killers. If one was dead, another had finished the job—or wanted us to think so.
"There's more," the second guard stammered. "He carried a note for the Council. It read: 'Twin B was a mistake. New target: Twin A."
My stomach dropped. Liora.
Dorian's jaw locked. "Secure every corridor. No one enters or leaves without my word."
The guards fled. Silence pressed in, thick and humming.
Then the bond flared—his Lycan reaching outward. His eyes glowed faint gold—mind link.
Cassian, he snapped across the link. Report. Why wasn't I alerted?
Static. Then his Beta's voice, calm and amused: I told them to give me until dawn, so that you could finish the ritual. Iamfollowing a lead on that assassin, Your Majesty. And honestly? No way I was interrupting you and your mate unless it was critical.
A rumble built in Dorian's chest—equal parts threat and laughter. You overstep.
I survive, Cassian answered. And it isn't good. That body wasn't alone.
The link is cut. Dorian blinked, eyes dimming. "He's onto something—or someone."
I crossed my arms. "Cassian figured the universe would implode if he disturbed your honeymoon? Smart wolf."
"Remind me to demote him after breakfast."
"After breakfast with your mother? Cruel."
He gave a short laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "If we're lucky, the palace will still be standing by then."
Then—another knock. Heavier. Voices behind it this time—female, urgent, familiar.
Liora.
Dorian's head snapped toward the sound. His wolf surged to the surface, energy rippling under his skin.
"By the ancestors…" he muttered, reaching for my hand.
"Stay behind me."
"Correction, Your Highness — you stay behind me." I drew my weapon, my hand hovered over the pistol, fingers itching at the grip. The sentence landed like a blade; the corridor went very, very quiet.
He blinked once, gold in his eyes flaring. For a second, the courtly mask slipped, and I saw something like amusement and something like pride war in him. Then he closed his hand over mine—firm, grounding, a single contact that said we're not separate—but he didn't pull away. Instead, he whispered in my ear, "A lot can happen in five minutes."