Chapter 5

"Red blood's home."

Male. Low. Like he's standing right behind me.

I spin around. Nothing. Just Cain's guest room, gray walls, black-out curtains still drawn. My duffel bag in the corner where I dropped it an hour ago after that disaster of a meeting with Ivy.

The mark flares hotter.

"Got eyes on the fire escape. Northwest corner. She's alone."

Not through the wall. Through the *window*.

I move without thinking, flattening myself against the wall beside the curtain. My wolf surges up under my skin, claws itching to break through. I shove her back down. Can't shift. Not here. Not in his territory with his pack all over this building.

But if the hunters are outside—

Footsteps in the hall. Heavy, fast.

The door slams open.

Cain.

He's in a black shirt and jeans, no shoes, hair still wet like he just got out of the shower. His eyes go straight to me pressed against the wall, then to the window.

"How many," he says.

Not are you okay. Not what's wrong.

How many.

"Two voices," I say. "Maybe more. They called me red blood."

His jaw tightens. He crosses to the window in three strides, yanks the curtain back an inch. I see his shoulders go rigid.

"Four," he says. "Rooftop across the street. Sniper setup."

My stomach drops. "They're not here for you."

"They're on my land." He lets the curtain fall, turns to me. "You bring a hunter mark into my house and don't tell me?"

"I didn't *bring* it. I was born with it. And you didn't exactly give me time to write up my full medical history before you dragged me back here."

His eyes flash gold. Alpha command creeping in at the edges. "Show me."

I hold up my wrist. The mark is a thin scar, maybe two inches long, just below my palm. Right now it's glowing faint red, pulsing with my heartbeat.

Cain grabs my arm. Not rough, but not gentle either. His thumb presses against the mark.

The heat cuts out like someone flipped a switch.

I suck in a breath. "What did you—"

"Alpha command. Tells your blood to shut up for a minute." He's still holding my wrist, staring at the mark. "This is old. You've had this since you shifted?"

"Since before. My mom had one too." I yank my arm back. "They track it. I don't know how. I stayed off their radar for three years and then last week it just lit up and they've been on me ever since."

"Last week." His voice drops. "When you shifted under the full moon."

"Yeah."

"So they know you're crimson."

I don't answer. I don't have to.

Cain turns back to the window, pulls out his phone. "Stay away from the glass."

He makes a call. It picks up on the first ring.

"North perimeter," he says. "Four hostiles, rooftop across from guest quarters. Hunters. I want them gone in ten minutes."

A pause.

"No," Cain says. "No contact. Just push them off my land. If they resist, break bones."

He hangs up.

I should feel relieved. I don't.

"They'll just come back," I say.

"Then I'll break more bones."

"You don't get it. They don't care about pack law or territory lines. They think I'm an abomination. They'll burn this whole building down if it means getting to me."

Cain looks at me. Really looks at me, the way he did in the forest when he used his Alpha voice to cut my shift short.

"Then we make sure they can't track you," he says.

"You can't just turn off a hunter mark."

"No. But I can bind it."

I go still. "Bind it to what."

"To me."

The room feels too small all of a sudden. I take a step back. "That's not— You can't—"

"It's a dominance lock. I override the mark with my claim. They'll still see the scar but the blood signal cuts off. As long as you're under my protection, they can't track you."

"And if I leave?"

"Then it comes back."

Of course. Of course there's a leash. There's always a leash.

"What's the catch," I say.

He tilts his head. "Catch?"

"You threw me out three years ago. Now you want to bind my blood to yours. So what do you get out of it?"

Something flickers across his face. Too fast for me to read.

"I get a wolf who can fight," he says. "And you get to stop running."

Before I can answer, the window explodes.

Glass everywhere. I throw my arms up, feel it slice across my forearms. Cain moves in front of me, fast enough that I don't see it, just feel his body blocking mine.

Something metallic *thunks* into the wall behind us.

A bolt. Crossbow bolt, thick as my thumb, black metal tip still vibrating.

There's a cable attached to the end.

Cain reaches for it. I grab his wrist. "Don't—"

Too late.

The bolt sparks. Current runs up the cable, slams into Cain's hand. He jerks back, hits the floor hard.

I drop beside him. His eyes are rolled back, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I can smell burning skin.

"Cain. Cain, stay with me."

Nothing.

The cable retracts an inch. Then another. Someone's reeling it back in. Which means someone's coming through that window.

I look at the bolt in the wall. At Cain on the floor. At my bleeding forearms.

My blood.

Crimson blood.

I don't think. I just move. Press my arm against the burn on his hand, let the blood drip into the wound.

The reaction is instant. His back arches. His eyes snap open, gold bleeding into white, and he says my name.

"Lila."

Not a question. A command. Like he's calling me back from somewhere.

I open my mouth to answer.

The cable goes taut. Cain's whole body jerks toward the window, dragged by the bolt still sparking against his burned palm. I grab his shoulders, try to hold him down, but he's too heavy and the pull is too strong.

He slides three feet across the floor.

Four.

His head's almost at the window now. I can see shadows moving on the rooftop across the street. Two figures in black, one pulling the cable hand over hand.

Cain's eyes meet mine. Still gold. Still aware.

"Let go," he says.

"Like hell."

The cable yanks him again. This time I go with him, skidding across broken glass on my knees. The edge of the window frame is right there, jagged with leftover glass.

If they pull him through, he's done.

I grab the cable with both hands. The current hits me like a fist to the chest. My vision whites out. I hear someone screaming, realize it's me.

Then the fire escape window slams open and Cain gets yanked sideways, through the frame, legs kicking once before he's gone.

The cable snaps loose from my hands.

I lunge for the window.

All I see is the rooftop, empty now, and a smear of blood on the fire escape railing.

Cain's blood.

And he's gone.