CLAUDE
I sat across from my father, the room thick with the silence of the lies I was about to spin. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he studied me.
“So, you’re saying Alpha Landon wants you at this meeting with the Federal werewolves… government officials?” His voice carried doubt, his fingers tapping the edge of the table.
“Yes,” I replied, gripping my phone a little tighter.
“And he didn’t think to tell me first?” His brow furrowed deeply.
I met his gaze without flinching. “No.”
He rubbed his beard—a beard I couldn’t seem to grow no matter how hard I tried. “It sounds suspicious.”
“We’ve grown closer since our last meeting at his pack. He said he sees great potential in me as a future Alpha.” I spread my hands across the table, forcing myself to relax, or at least appear relaxed. “Don’t you think I have potential?”
My father cleared his throat, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Of course, son. This could be a big opportunity for our pack.” His tone was clipped, but I took the compliment for what it was. “You’ve done well.”
I nodded, standing up and grabbing my bag. “I’ll be off now.”
I’d made it halfway to the door when his voice stopped me cold. “Claude—did you remember your medicine? You know what happened last time.”
My hand clenched the strap of my bag as I paused. Glancing over my shoulder, I gave him a stiff nod. “How could I forget?”
Three days.
That’s how long it had been since I was taken. Chained in this dungeon, my wrists rubbed raw, the cold stone walls pressing against me. Water dripped from the ceiling, echoing in the small space, but the sound of the door unlocking cut through the steady rhythm.
A man, no older than thirty, entered, flanked by two others. His green eyes swept over me, and he strode forward, gripping my chin between rough fingers.
“This is him?” he asked the men behind him, never breaking eye contact with me.
“Yes,” one of them confirmed.
As his eyes roamed over me, something shifted deep inside me. I felt different—like something was about to change in ways I couldn’t control. And what terrified me most wasn’t that change was coming, but that I would be the one to change.
The border loomed ahead of me, a familiar checkpoint between werewolf and human territory. I stepped out of the car, gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans, the weight of my bag heavy on my shoulder. The officers guarding the border nodded after checking my letter of passage, allowing me through without question.
An hour later, I arrived at the spot I’d marked on the map. A white van approached from the distance, and I could feel my pulse quicken, my instincts sharpening. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but when the van stopped and the door slid open, the stench of humans hit me like a slap.
“Tate?” The man who stepped out squinted at me, glancing down at the tablet in his hand before meeting my eyes. “Tate Frank?”
I forced a smile, lowering my hand away from the gun. “Yeah. That’s me.”
The man eyed me for a moment before stepping aside to let me in. Four humans were already inside—three women, eyes sharp and curious, and one man who seemed determined to ignore everything around him. I slid into the seat beside a blonde girl who couldn’t have been more than twenty.
The door slammed shut behind me, and I could feel the eyes of the others burning into me. The blonde was already staring, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Um… hey. Do you know where they’re taking us?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Her smirk widened, and she let out a small giggle. “Oh, a first-timer.”
The others all turned to me, their eyes dancing with something that made my stomach tighten. Heat crept up my neck, and I realized just how little I knew about what was coming next.
She grabbed my arm and leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. “They don’t reveal the location of the yacht for security reasons, but I heard…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s headed for New York. And lucky for us, we’re not that far off.”
I nodded, trying to resist the urge to pull away from her touch. Diana seemed nice enough, but being touched by strangers wasn’t exactly my favorite thing.
“Anyway, my name’s Amelia. What’s yours?” She looked at me expectantly, her curiosity genuine. I managed a smile, reminding myself of the fake identity I’d need to use for the next two weeks—assuming this wasn’t some elaborate prank. “Tate.”
---
Well, fuck me—it was real.
I stood at the loading docks, staring up at the biggest, most expensive-looking yacht I’d ever laid eyes on. It was a sleek, towering hull, its polished white exterior gleaming in the sunlight, with elegant balconies and soft lights accentuating its luxurious design.
“Impressive, huh?” Amelia’s voice snapped me back to reality. She smiled, gesturing toward the gleaming vessel. “Wait until you see the inside.”
The van that had brought us here was already pulling away. I pulled out my phone, checking the time: just past four.
“How long have you been doing this… pet thing?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
Amelia grinned. “This is my third time. The pay’s good. I make over fifty grand each trip.”
Her eyes flicked to the phone in my hand. “Just a heads up—they don’t allow phones onboard. And you’ll be frisked by security, so…” She leaned in, placed her hand on my back and her voice lowering. “If you’ve got any weapons, now’s the time to get rid of them.”
My stomach tightened. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before slipping the gun from my waistband. With a quick flick of my wrist, I tossed it into the water and hurried to catch up with Amelia, gripping the railing of the boarding ramp.
“How did you know?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
She threw a look over her shoulder, eyes gleaming with amusement. “When you got off the bus, your shirt rode up a little.” She smirked. “I saw it.”
I exhaled sharply, cursing myself for not being more careful.
“Thank you, Amelia,” I said, just as she stopped and placed her palm against my chest.
“You don’t have to thank me.” She leaned in closer, her eyes darkening slightly. “You’re a sweet boy… I’d hate to see you go to waste.”
Her words made me frown, my mind catching on something unspoken.
With only one person left between us and security, I grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving forward. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just be careful, Tate,” she cut me off with a warm smile. “This place can be a fucking dangerous one.”
I loosened my grip, and she easily slipped her arm away, moving ahead to stand before the security guard.
“Name?” the guard asked.
“Amelia Reed,” she responded smoothly.
It was my turn next. I tightened my hold on my bag as I stepped forward.
“Name?” the man asked, his gaze drifting over me.
“Tate Frank,” I said, keeping my voice even.
The guard glanced down at his tablet, then back up at me, his eyes squinting. “It says here you’ve got brown eyes and glasses,” he said, clearing his throat.
I forced a smile. “I’m wearing contacts now.”
The guard grunted, glancing at the tablet again before muttering, “Shame. You looked better with the glasses.”
I bit back a retort, watching as he took my bag. “You’ll get it back after we search it,” he said flatly.
Once the check was complete and my phone confiscated, I followed the same path Diana had taken. Her voice drifted to me before I could fully catch sight of her.
“I’m glad you made it, Tate,” she said, smiling as she stepped closer. For once, I didn’t mind seeing her again.
I took in our surroundings—there were around thirty of us now, gathered on the deck—before turning back to Amelia. “What happens now?”
She raised her left hand, showing me a small block of chains, her smile becoming sharper. “Now, when the clock strikes six and the yacht sets sail… we meet our buyers through that door.”
CLAUDEThe yacht jolted to life the moment the clock hit six, and I felt it in my bones. Turning to my side, I caught Amelia’s gaze already locked on me.“Come on, Tate, get that chain around your neck,” she grinned, slipping out of the short black dress she’d been wearing, leaving only the barest pair of matching black underwear.“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, my eyes widening, glancing around. Everyone else? Half-naked.Amelia laughed softly, pulling my attention back to her. “Oh, you didn’t know what you were getting into?” She gave me a light pat on the arm, her gaze turning almost sympathetic. “Relax, it’s just for show. No one’s asking you to strip completely. Just the shirt.” I exhaled hard, fingers gripping the cool metal chain in my hand. There was no reason to panic. No one here knew me, and if something went south, I could easily take any one of these humans. I was stronger. Better.“Oh, God, you’re like a lost puppy,” Amelia’s voice pulled me back, her hands on my
NIKOLIAThere was something about this boy—something that kept me from walking away. I hadn’t come here to take someone. My only objective was finding information about my missing cargo—twelve containers, worth over a billion dollars. Yet here I was, tugging at my tie, my eyes trained on him—Tate.Or at least, that’s what he wanted to be called.“Before we start anything, I think it’s best we get to know each other first.” My voice was calm, controlled, as I slipped my hands into my pockets and leveled my gaze on him. He was watching me with wary eyes, like he wasn’t sure if he should trust me. Smart.“How about we start with your name?” I added, keeping my tone neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, uncertainty.“But you—”“Your real name,” I cut him off, watching the way his breath hitched, the way his chest rose and fell a little quicker now.“How did you—”“I didn’t,” I said with a small shrug. “You just don’t look
CLAUDE“CLAUDE. WAKE UP.”The command cut through my hazy dreams, and I opened my eyes, instantly aware of Nikolia’s gaze boring into me. That look alone was enough to sharpen my senses.“Christ, that was fucking weird,” he muttered, his eyes flicking over my face.I blinked, sitting up slowly and raking a hand through my hair. “What?”“Your eyes.” He gave a frustrated sigh, one hand lifting as if to explain, then letting it drop. “Forget it. Afternoon now. Figured I’d wake you for—” He looked at the clock. “Lunch,” he corrected, sinking onto the bed’s edge with a smirk.I froze as Nikolia’s hand found the back of my neck, his touch warm, possessive. He pulled me in, close enough that our breaths mingled, and he watched me like he was cataloging every flicker of my expression.“When I came out of the bathroom last night, you were already out cold,” he murmured, low and gruff, his voice tickling my ear. “It was that good, huh?”I felt a surge of hea
NiKOLAI HE WAS FINALLY HERE. Pressing against the wall, I watched Jonny Hernandez stride down the hall, flanked by two thick-necked goons. The prick had the audacity to steal from me, and now he was holed up on this swanky, heavily-guarded yacht, probably thinking he was untouchable. I usually had my men handle these sorts of personal errands, but this time... hell, I wanted to look him in the eyes myself before I made him pay. I peeked around the corner. The two guards had parked themselves outside a door, just under one lazy surveillance camera hanging in the corner. Perfect. I let my fingers tap against the wall, a small sound, just enough to get their attention. Predictably, both heads swiveled in my direction. Like clockwork. "Evening, gentlemen," I said, sliding my hands into my pockets as they stepped toward me. "Is Jonny allowing visitors?" The bigger of the two grunted, "No visitors." I shrugged, my lips curling
CLAUDE I DIDN’T HAVE the damn key to our room, which was why I’d been standing here for Gods knew how long, feeling more pissed off with every second. “You’re alone,” a voice cut through my thoughts. “I’m surprised.” I whipped my head toward the sound. Amelia was standing there, in a short, pleated skirt, black bra barely covering anything, a gold leash around her neck. She held the end of it in her hand and started walking toward me like she owned the damn place. “Amelia,” I muttered, shifting my weight to the other foot, my body tense as she got closer. “You didn’t look so thrilled to be here the first night,” she said, a sly smirk curving her lips. I chuckled. No shit. I’d been questioning my decisions—whether I was making a mistake, whether this was what I really wanted. But I had made up my mind now. “Yeah, well…” I shrugged. Her eyes flicked to the door I was leaning against, and I could feel her getting closer, measuring me u
CLAUDEEvery part of me was on fire. I was trapped between a wall and a hard place—literally—because Nikolai’s frim body pressed tightly against mine, his hips grinding into me like he had something to prove. And goddammit, it felt so fucking good. A moan slipped past my lips, swallowed by the press of his mouth against mine. His kiss was raw and hard, his tongue demanding entry I couldn’t deny. My hands clutched at his biceps, the hard muscles flexing beneath my fingers as I fought to keep my balance.“Fuck,” Nikolai growled, pulling back just enough for his dark, burning gaze to meet mine. His breath came in heavy pants, his lips brushing against my skin as he whispered, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My voice had been stolen by the heat pooling low in my stomach, by the way his teeth grazed my neck, biting and teasing like he couldn’t get enough of me. The sharp sting made me gasp, and the sound only seemed to fuel him further. “Shit—Ni
NIKOLIAI don’t know why I cared. Claude wasn’t my responsibility. He wasn’t anything to me. But when he flinched yesterday—when I saw that flicker of fear in his eyes—I wanted to rip apart whoever put it there. I’d never felt this way before. Never. The partners in my life had always been transactional. I gave them what they wanted, took what I needed, and left it at that. No questions. No complications. No strings. Yet here I was, lying in bed, the early morning light bleeding through the curtains, thinking about him. His breathing filled the room—slow, steady, but not the kind of calm you’d expect from someone still asleep. “I know you’re awake, Claude.” My voice cut through the silence, and I heard the subtle shift of sheets as he tensed. I turned my head toward him, though the space between us still felt like miles. He didn’t answer. Just drew in a sharp breath. “You have an accent,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter than usual. “I noticed it yesterday whe
CLAUDE I COULDN’T FIND it. My hands tore through the piles of clothes scattered on the floor, my pulse a pounding rhythm in my ears. My breath hitched, shallow and ragged. Think, Claude. Think. I knew I’d brought the damn pills on board. I wouldn’t forget something that important. Then it hit me. The guards. I’d handed my bag to the security guards. A cold wave of dread washed over me. What if they’d taken them? My body trembled as I pressed a thumb hard into my eye. Fuck. This is bad. Really bad.I glanced toward the bathroom door, steam curling beneath it, the shower still running. Nikolia had no idea what was happening on the other side of that door, and I needed to keep it that way. Without thinking twice, I grabbed my jacket and stormed out, the salty sea air slapping me in the face as I stepped onto the ship’s terrace. The place was almost deserted—just the endless horizon of water and sky. But I wasn’t alone. I caught it then. Fain
CLAUDEI didn’t know how long I sat there, my hands throbbing from pain, every muscle pulling too tight. The room felt like it was impossibly small, the silence felt like it was enough to crush me. I stared at the door, willing it to open—willing Nikolai to come back. Just give me a chance to explain. Let me speak. Let me fix this. But when the door finally creaked open hours later, it wasn’t Nikolai.It was them.Men dressed in black stepped inside, their presence making my throat tight. Guns sat heavy at their hips, as casual as the smirks they wore.“I don’t understand why the boss gives a prisoner a good room,” one sneered, his accent thick as he crossed his arms and looked me over like I was something beneath his boot. “I don’t even get a good room, and this American gets one?”A short laugh came from another as he stepped closer, crouching in front of me and began to undo the chains. “Maybe his hole is that good.” His grin like it was some kind of hidden joke.My stomach churne
CLAUDEMY HEAD THROBBED like it had been cracked open, the kind of ache that made it hard to think straight. Every nerve in my body was screaming, and the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere close only made it worse, each echo hitting like a hammer. My back ached where something cold and sharp pressed into it, scraping against bone, and no matter how I shifted, I couldn't find relief.And my wrists—fuck. The sting of metal biting into my skin was enough to remind me I wasn’t going anywhere.I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. They felt heavy, like I’d been drugged. Voices buzzed around me, tangled and overlapping, but I couldn’t make out the words.“Ya slyshal, on byl s bossom na tom korable. Dumayesh, on gey?” “Zatkní svoy gryóbanyy rot. On prosypáetsya.”Then one sentence broke through, clear despite the heavy accent.“Go tell boss that he’s awake.”Boss.My pulse jumped. Even through the haze, I knew exactly who that meant.I forced my eyes open, but darkness greeted m
CLAUDEMy fingers wrapped around the lock, the silver biting into my skin the second I touched it. I slammed it to the side with everything I had, ignoring the burn that tore through my hands.The lock broke with a snap, and I stumbled back, panting hard, my chest heaving as pain radiated up my arms. My palms throbbed, raw from the contact, but I didn’t care.I shoved the door open, the hinges groaning under the weight, and Nikolai was already on his feet. His brows pulled together, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked at me, like he couldn’t decide what had just happened.“What the hell…” he muttered, his voice low and rough, and I couldn’t miss the way his whole body tensed, like he was bracing for a fight.I couldn’t help it. A grin broke across my face. “We’re free,” I rasped, the words leaving me on a shaky exhale. My heart was slamming so hard it felt like it was trying to break free too. His eyes snapped to mine, and for the briefest second, they softened. But it was
CLAUDE SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I’d felt it the moment he was shoved back into the cell. The way he looked at me—sharp, cutting, like I was a problem he didn’t want to solve. And that kiss... It wasn’t affection. It was a punishment, cold and bruising, before he pushed me away as though the taste of me was bitter.How long had it been since he’d spoken to me? Minutes? Hours? Each minute dragged as he refused to answer my calls, refused to acknowledge me with anything other than that deadly glare.My lips had healed, but I still felt the phantom sting of that kiss. Still felt the ache like an open wound every time I dared glance at him. His rage wasn’t subtle—it rolled off him like waves.I watched him now, my eyes tracing every line of his tense frame. But Nikolai didn’t move. His gaze stayed fixed on the door, pointedly avoiding me even though I knew he could feel my stare.The sound of the door slamming open ripped my focus away. My head snapped toward it and I was surprised. They didn
NIKOLAI"HOW MANY FUCKING times do I have to tell you—I didn’t take your shit. This is pathetic,” I bit out, wincing as pain flared through my side. Another punch landed, sharp and painful, but I barely flinched.My glare snapped to the brute in front of me, my mind already calculating. Ways to slice him open. Methods to break him apart. He’d regret every goddamn hit the moment I got free—or when my people found me, whichever came first.The bastard sighed, dragging a hand over his shaved head like he was the one dealing with a headache. He started pacing again, heavy boots echoing off the grimy walls, and I stared at him from under my lashes, biting back the urge to spit in his face.“It isn’t about the crystals, is it?” I laughed low, shaking my head. “There’s something else.”The truth was simple: if someone had stolen from me—even a pen—I wouldn’t waste my time. They’d be dead before they could even apologize. No explanations, no second chances. A bullet, point-blank. End of story
CLAUDEI COULDN’T SETTLE.Not since I woke up to find the bed empty. Not since Nikolai had been ripped away from me. The pain in my leg was the least of my worries now, because the world felt wrong without him. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, my heart hammering in my chest as I thought about the worst.What if he was gone?The thought tightened my throat, my pulse spiking with panic.What if I never saw him again?I couldn’t breathe at the thought.Then, the door creaked open. Footsteps, heavy and uneven. My senses were flooded with blood before I saw him. The metallic tang hit my nose like a punch, and there he was—Nikolai, shoved inside, collapsing before I could think. I lunged, catching him just before his body hit the ground. The door slammed shut behind him, the loud noise ringing in my ears.“Nikolai,” I whispered, guiding him to the wall, my arm hooked under his, my palm pressing against the heat of his ribs.He groaned, sinking down until he was seated, head lolling back agai
NIKOLAII WANTED TO put a bullet through her skull. The thought burned bright, searing through every rational part of me.But it was Claude’s unsteady steps that dragged my attention. He limped back towards me, his movements sluggish, and I was on my feet before I could think twice.“Christ,” I muttered, catching him as he stumbled. I pulled him flush against me, feeling the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body sagged.Guiding him to the wall, I eased him down until he was sitting. His skin was pale, his breathing uneven.“You’re pushing too hard, Claude.” My voice came out low, softer than I intended, and I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “You need to rest.”He didn’t argue, his head leaning back against the wall, his expression tight with pain. My eyes dropped to his stomach, fabric of the bandage darkened with dried blood, and let out a low breath of relief. Thank Christ they weren’t bleeding anymore.“That girl,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “she was with Antonio, wasn’t
CLAUDEFuck.That was the first thing that ripped through my head as I came to, groaning like I’d been hit by a freight train. My eyes blinked open, unfocused, until I caught sight of him—Nikolai.His lap was my goddamn pillow, his hands steady on my shoulders. And those eyes—sharp and steady—locked on mine before his lips twitched into that lazy, lopsided smile of his.“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he murmured, like I’d just woken up from a nap instead of—I groaned, trying to shift, but my body felt heavy, like my limbs didn’t belong to me. “Where are we?” My words came out rough, my throat raw.When I tried to sit up, Nikolai’s hands pressed me back down. “Don’t,” he said, his tone low. “You got shot, Claude. Pretty fucking badly, I might add.”I looked down. My chest was bare, bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, blood seeping through faintly. Not silver, though. I’d heal. A couple of days, tops.“And,” Nikolai continued, like he was delivering a punchline, a chuc
NIKOLAIIt didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d been kidnapped. This wasn’t some random terrorist attack. No, this was planned, deliberate. My head throbbed, a sharp ache that pulsed behind my eyes as I forced myself upright. The room was dark, the only light coming from the weak flicker of a bulb above. It wasn’t enough to see much, but it was enough to hear—to feel. Someone was here with me.The groan came low and ragged, dragging my attention to the far side of the room. My chest tightened. Claude had been with me during the shootout, shielding me when he shouldn’t have. But that didn’t mean the figure slumped in the shadows was him.“Claude?” My voice was rough, edged with suspicion.The unmistakable groan of pain answered that question, and I scrambled toward the voice. My hands found him—his body slack against the floor—and I turned him onto his back. “Fuck, Claude.” The words fell from my lips as my gaze dropped to the stain spreading across his shirtI crawled toward him, my