Chapter 11: Midnight Intruder
1259words
Midnight found me still in Damian's study, surrounded by old photographs and journals I'd discovered hidden behind a false panel in his bookcase. They chronicled decades—centuries—of the Three Wolves Pact, including detailed accounts of previous blood moon rituals. But what captivated me most were the entries about my mother.
According to Damian's journals, he and Sophia had been lovers briefly before she met my father. Their relationship ended when she discovered the truth about the pact—that the ritual required a moon blood to choose one alpha over the others, creating an imbalance of power that had historically led to bloodshed and tyranny.
My mother had fled, choosing humanity and my father instead. Twenty-five years later, history was repeating itself with her daughter.
I closed the journal, rubbing my tired eyes. The pendant around my neck felt heavier by the hour, almost constricting. Twice I'd nearly removed it, only to stop myself, remembering my father's warning about its protective properties.
A sound from the hallway—the faintest creak of floorboards—made me freeze. The security team Damian had left behind patrolled the grounds, not the house interior. Martha and the other staff had retired hours ago.
I wasn't alone.
Silently, I moved behind Damian's desk, reaching for the letter opener—a poor weapon, but better than nothing. The study door eased open, and a tall figure slipped inside.
Not Damian or Jackson. This man moved differently—more fluid, more predatory. Even in shadow, I could see he was handsome in a sharp, dangerous way, with shoulder-length dark hair and a face that seemed carved from marble.
"Hello, Elena," he said, his voice cultured and smooth. "We meet at last—properly, that is."
"Victor," I whispered, gripping the letter opener tighter.
He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. "You recognize me. I'm flattered."
"What are you doing here?"
"Claiming what's mine." He moved closer, and I caught his scent—pine and earth and something metallic, like blood. "Damian made a tactical error, leaving you unprotected."
"I'm not unprotected." I touched the pendant.
Victor's amber eyes fixed on the silver crescent. "Ah, Robert's little trinket. Clever, but insufficient." He took another step. "That pendant can't stop what's already begun between us."
"Nothing has begun between us."
"Hasn't it?" He inhaled deeply. "Your blood calls to mine, Elena. Blackwood blood. You feel it, don't you? The pull?"
To my horror, I did feel something—a strange resonance, like a tuning fork vibrating to a matching pitch. The pendant grew warmer against my skin, as if responding to the threat.
"Stay back," I warned, raising the letter opener.
Victor laughed softly. "You have fire. Like your mother."
"Don't talk about my mother."
"Why not? I knew her intimately." His smile turned cruel. "More intimately than your father suspects."
"You killed her," I said, voice shaking with rage.
"I freed her." He moved with inhuman speed, suddenly beside me, the letter opener knocked from my grasp. "She was trapped between worlds—wolf and human—just as you are now."
His fingers brushed my cheek, and I jerked away. "Don't touch me."
"Too late for that." His eyes gleamed. "I've been inside your dreams since you arrived here. Haven't you wondered why you dream of running through forests? Of amber eyes watching you?"
A chill ran through me as I recognized the recurring nightmare. "That was you?"
"Blood calls to blood, Elena. Even across distance." His hand moved to my throat, fingers brushing the pendant. "This trinket can't change what you are. What we could be together."
The pendant burned hot against my skin as his fingers touched it. Victor hissed, withdrawing his hand as if burned.
"Stronger than I expected," he murmured. "But not strong enough."
Before I could react, he grabbed the chain, snapping it from my neck. The pendant clattered to the floor, and immediately I felt different—lighter, but also more vulnerable, as if a protective barrier had dissolved.
"There," Victor said softly. "Now I can smell you properly. Your true scent."
He leaned closer, inhaling along my neck. Every instinct screamed to run, but my body refused to obey, caught in some primal freeze response. Or was it something else—something deeper, more disturbing? A part of me responding to him despite my conscious revulsion?
"The blood moon approaches," he whispered against my skin. "Six days. When it rises, you'll have to choose. Damian thinks he's secured your loyalty with his mark, his human marriage. But blood bonds run deeper than paper promises or temporary bites."
"I'll never choose you," I managed to say.
"Won't you?" His lips brushed my ear. "Let me show you what Damian has kept from you. The true power of the bond between us."
His hand caught my wrist, turning it palm up. Before I could pull away, he sliced across it with a sharp nail, drawing blood. Then he cut his own palm and pressed our wounds together.
Pain shot up my arm, followed by something else—a rush of sensation that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Images flooded my mind: forests seen through amber eyes, running with impossible speed, the intoxicating freedom of the wolf form.
"Stop," I gasped, trying to pull away.
"This is who you are," Victor insisted, holding tight. "What you could be if you embraced your Blackwood heritage. Not just moon blood, but wolf blood."
"I'm human," I insisted.
"Are you?" His eyes held mine. "Then why can you feel the moon's pull? Why does your blood sing when I'm near? Why did Damian's wolf recognize you as mate before you even met?"
The questions struck too close to fears I'd been avoiding. What if I wasn't entirely human? What if the reason I responded so intensely to Damian—to all three alphas—was because something in me recognized something in them?
A growl from the doorway broke the moment. Jackson stood there, eyes glowing gold, body tensed to spring.
"Get away from her," he snarled.
Victor smiled, still holding my bleeding hand. "Brother. Come to protect your investment?"
"She's not an investment." Jackson's voice had deepened, taking on the growling undertone of his wolf. "She's pack."
"She's Blackwood," Victor countered. "My blood runs in her veins."
"Distantly," Jackson spat. "Not enough to claim her."
"We'll see." Victor finally released my hand, stepping back. "The blood bond is initiated. She'll feel me now, no matter where I am. No matter what Damian does."
Jackson moved into the room, positioning himself between us. "Leave. Now. Or I'll tear your throat out."
"You can try." Victor's smile was all teeth. "But not tonight. Tonight was just... an introduction."
He backed toward the window, eyes never leaving mine. "Six days, Elena. Think about what you truly want. What you truly are."
Then he was gone, leaping through the open window with inhuman grace.
Jackson was immediately at my side. "Are you hurt?"
I stared at my palm, where the cut was already closing, far faster than any normal wound should heal. "What's happening to me?"
Jackson's expression darkened as he examined my hand. "Blood bond. Victor's trying to influence your choice before the ritual."
"By doing what? Infecting me?"
"By awakening what's already there." He looked troubled. "Your Blackwood heritage. The part of you that isn't entirely human."
The room seemed to spin around me. "I need to sit down."
As Jackson guided me to a chair, I caught my reflection in a mirror across the room. For just a moment—a heartbeat—my eyes flashed amber, like Victor's. Like a wolf's.
