Chapter 6
482words
A knock. I looked up.
"Come in."
Lillian appeared—copper hair, green eyes. My oldest friend.
"Working for wolves now?" She raised an eyebrow, scanning my office at Grey Investments.
"It"s complicated." I gestured for her to sit.
"Three more marked vampires found dead in Europe." Her voice dropped. "Mental deterioration, then desiccation. All marked by werewolves."
My skin chilled. "You"re sure?"
"Saw them myself." She leaned closer. "The Council"s keeping quiet, but there"s panic. And now you"re with the Northern Pack Alpha?"
I touched my wrist where Alexander had taken my blood. His emotions—focused, determined—pulsed through our connection.
"These markings override a vampire"s free will," Lillian warned. "Especially with powerful Alphas."
"I haven"t been marked."
"But you"ve been with him during full moon, right?" When I didn"t answer, she pressed, "After what Victor did—"
"Alexander isn"t Victor," I snapped.
"All powerful men use their power eventually," she said softly. "It"s in their DNA."
I stared out the window. "I can handle myself."
"Can you? There"s something different about you. You seem… connected to someone."
Should I tell her about the blood connection? About staying with him during transformation? About how his amber eyes had looked at me with such vulnerability?
"I"m here because Victor threatens both our kinds," I said finally.
"And when it"s over?" she asked. "Then what?"
"I"ll move on. Like always."
The words felt hollow. The thought of leaving Alexander ached in my chest.
"Be careful," Lillian warned. "Blood connections make you feel things that aren"t real. They create artificial emotions, dependencies. You"ll lose yourself until you don"t recognize who you"ve become."
"That won"t happen to me."
"I hope you"re right." She squeezed my hand. "I"ve seen too many of us fall. The marked ones always end the same way—either slaves or corpses."
As Lillian left, I returned to my work, trying to focus on the code rather than her warnings. But her words had planted seeds of doubt. Was this connection with Alexander manipulating my feelings? Was I just another vampire falling into a werewolf"s trap?
I was so absorbed in these thoughts that I didn"t notice the shadow that passed by my partially open door, or the amber eyes that darkened with each overheard word.
Three hours later, my screens went black. Phone ringing.
"We"re under attack," Jackson said. "Alexander wants you in the crisis room now."
I grabbed my laptop and rushed down the hall. Something felt wrong—not just the attack, but Alexander himself. Through our connection, I sensed a cold wall where warmth had been before.
What had changed in those three hours? And why did I suddenly feel like I was walking into something far more dangerous than a cyber attack?
