Chapter 5 · Move In With the Wolves

I don't sleep.

I sit on the edge of the bed with Mom's photo on my phone and the signed contract on my lap. The paper's still warm from the printer in Darius's office. Six months. Twenty thousand. One investigation into a four-year-old car crash that smells more like murder every time I think about it.

And tomorrow I move in with a pack of wolves who want me dead.

Great plan, Isla.

I shove the contract into my backpack and check my phone. Three texts from my landlord asking about next month's rent. Two missed calls from a number I don't recognize. I delete all of it. That life's over. I signed it away an hour ago in a South Side boxing gym that smells like blood and sweat and something I can't name.

Something that makes my skin buzz.

I think about Darius's eyes going gold when he leaned over the desk. The way his voice dropped when he said *dormant wolf blood*. The way he looked at me like I was a problem he couldn't solve and couldn't walk away from.

I hate that look.

I hate that it made me feel safer than I've felt in four years.

Someone knocks. Three hard raps on the door.

I'm on my feet before I think about it. "Who is it?"

"Kyle." The voice is flat. No warmth. "Darius wants you downstairs. Now."

I grab my hoodie and open the door. Kyle's standing there with his arms crossed, dressed in the same black jacket from earlier. His face is stone. No smile. No pretense.

He looks me up and down like I'm a stain.

"Sleep well?" he asks.

I pull the hoodie on. "I didn't."

"Good. You shouldn't." He turns and walks toward the stairs. "Come on."

I follow him down. The gym is darker now. Most of the overhead lights are off. There's maybe a dozen people scattered around—some sparring in the cage, some lifting weights, some just standing in clusters and talking in low voices. Everyone stops when I come down the stairs.

Every single one of them looks at me.

Kyle doesn't slow down. He walks straight through the middle of the gym toward the office in the back. I keep my head down and follow. I can feel their eyes on me. Hear the whispers starting up behind us.

"That's her?"

"Smells wrong."

"Darius is out of his mind."

Kyle shoves the office door open. Darius is standing behind the desk with his phone to his ear. He glances up when we walk in, then holds up one finger. Wait.

Kyle shuts the door and leans against it. He doesn't look at me. Just stares at Darius with his jaw tight.

Darius finishes the call and sets the phone down. "Vivienne's people were at your apartment an hour ago."

My stomach drops. "What?"

"They kicked the door in. Trashed the place. Left a message on the wall." He pulls up a photo on his phone and turns it around.

It's my bedroom. The mattress is flipped. My clothes are all over the floor. And on the wall above the bed, someone spray-painted two words in red.

*DEAD SOON.*

I can't breathe.

Darius puts the phone down. "You're not going back there. Ever."

"I—" My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. "I need to get my stuff."

"Already done." He nods toward the corner. There's a black duffel bag I didn't notice before. "One of my people grabbed what was left. It's not much."

I stare at the bag. Everything I own fits in one duffel. Four years of working doubles and skipping meals and it all fits in one bag.

Kyle makes a noise in his throat. "This is a bad idea."

Darius doesn't look at him. "I know."

"She's bait. Vivienne's going to come for her and you're going to do something stupid."

"Probably."

"Darius." Kyle pushes off the door. "I watched Elise die. I'm not watching you go down the same way."

The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees.

Darius turns his head slowly. His eyes aren't gold yet but they're close. "I'm not talking about this."

"Too bad. I am." Kyle jerks his chin at me. "She shows up out of nowhere, patches you up, smells like mate, and you're just going to bring her into the pack? You don't know anything about her."

"I know enough."

"You know she's dormant. You know she's connected to Vivienne somehow. You don't know if she's working for her."

I step forward. "I'm not."

Kyle finally looks at me. "You'd say that either way."

"I would. But it's true." I meet his eyes. "Vivienne Lake killed my mother. I don't know how yet. But I'm going to find out. And when I do, I'm going to make her pay."

Kyle stares at me for a long moment. Then he laughs. It's not a nice sound. "You? You're going to take down Vivienne Lake?"

"Eventually."

"Jesus." He shakes his head. "She's insane. Perfect match for you, boss."

Darius ignores that. "Is the loft ready?"

"Yeah. I had Mari air it out and stock the fridge. She's not happy about it, by the way. No one is."

"They'll deal."

"Will they?" Kyle's voice goes hard. "Because half the pack thinks you're compromised. They think you're going to get us all killed over a girl who might be a plant."

"Then they can leave." Darius picks up his keys. "Anyone who doesn't trust my call can walk. I'm not holding anyone here."

Kyle's jaw works. "You know they won't."

"Then they'll shut up and fall in line." Darius grabs my duffel bag and tosses it to me. I catch it on reflex. "Let's go."

He walks out. I follow. Kyle stays in the office for a second, then comes after us.

The gym goes quiet again when we cross the floor. Darius doesn't stop. He heads straight for the side door that leads to the alley. I keep close. Too close, maybe, but I don't care. I can feel the hostility coming off the pack like heat.

Someone steps into our path.

It's a woman. Maybe thirty, with short black hair and a scar across her eyebrow. She's wearing a tank top and her arms are ripped. She looks at Darius, then at me.

"Alpha," she says. Her voice is respectful but there's an edge to it. "Is this really happening?"

Darius stops. "Mari."

"I cleaned the loft like you asked. But I need to know." She looks at me again. "Is she pack?"

"She's under my protection."

"That's not what I asked."

Darius's eyes shift. Just a flash of gold. "She's mine. That's all you need to know."

Mari goes still. Then she steps aside. "Understood."

We walk past her. No one else tries to stop us.

Outside, the alley smells like garbage and rain. Darius's truck is parked at the curb. He unlocks it and I climb into the passenger seat. Kyle gets in the back.

No one talks.

Darius drives north through Pilsen. The streets are quiet. A few bars still lit up. Some late-night taquerias. We turn onto a side street and pull up in front of a three-story brick building with a mural of La Virgen on the side.

Darius parks and gets out. I follow him to a door next to a closed storefront. He unlocks it and we go up a narrow staircase that smells like paint and old wood. The loft is on the third floor.

He opens the door and flips the lights on.

It's one big room. Exposed brick on two walls. Big windows facing the street. A kitchen in the corner. A bed against the far wall. A couch and a coffee table in the middle.

It's nicer than anywhere I've ever lived.

Darius drops his keys on the counter. "It's secure. Windows are reinforced. Door's steel core. Kyle's got people watching the street."

I set my duffel down. "You're not staying?"

"Not tonight. I've got pack business." He looks at me. "You'll be safe here."

"Will I?"

"Yes."

Kyle's phone buzzes. He looks at it and his face changes. "Darius."

Darius turns. "What?"

Kyle holds up his phone. "Vivienne just posted on the pack network. She's calling a gathering. Three nights from now. She's formally challenging your claim."

Darius goes very still. "On what grounds?"

"She says you're compromised by an outsider. She's demanding you present your mate for inspection or step down."

My stomach twists. "Inspection?"

"It's a formal challenge," Kyle says. "If you claim someone as your mate, the old-money packs can demand proof. Scent match. Bite mark. Blood test."

I look at Darius. "I don't have any of that."

"Not yet," he says quietly.

Kyle swears. "You're not seriously considering—"

"I don't have a choice." Darius runs a hand through his hair. "If I don't present her, Vivienne takes the pack. If I present her without a mark, Vivienne calls me a liar and takes the pack anyway."

"So what are you going to do?" Kyle's voice is tight.

Darius looks at me. His eyes are gold now. Full wolf. "I'm going to mark her."

My heart stops.

"Three nights," he says. "That's how long you've got to decide if you're in or out. Because once I bite you, there's no going back."

I open my mouth. Close it. My hand goes to my shoulder. The place where I can still feel the phantom heat from earlier.

"What happens if you mark me?" I ask.

"You'll carry my scent. My bite. The bond will activate—dormant blood or not." He steps closer. "And every wolf in the city will know you're mine."

"Including Vivienne."

"Especially Vivienne."

Kyle makes a disgusted noise. "This is insane."

"It's the only play we have." Darius doesn't take his eyes off me. "Three nights. Think about it."

He turns and walks toward the door. Kyle follows.

I stand there in the middle of the loft with my duffel at my feet and my heart hammering in my chest.

The door closes.

I'm alone.

I go to the window and look out at the street. It's empty. Just parked cars and shadows and the glow of a streetlight two blocks down.

I pull my phone out. Open the photo of Mom's necklace.

The Lake family crest stares back at me.

I zoom in on the symbols around the edge. There's something I didn't notice before. A small crescent moon at the top of the crest. And inside the crescent, a tiny star.

I turn my wrist over.

The birthmark on the inside of my left wrist is shaped like a crescent moon. I've had it my whole life. Never thought anything of it.

But now, standing in the lamplight, I can see something I've never seen before.

There's a star inside the crescent.

Exactly like the one on Mom's necklace.

My hand starts shaking.

I pull my sleeve down and back up. The mark is still there. Faint. Like a scar. But it's glowing.

Actually glowing.

Pale silver light, just bright enough to see in the dark.

I hear footsteps on the stairs.

The door opens.

Kyle's standing there. He's staring at my wrist. His face has gone sheet-white.

"Where did you get that mark?" His voice is barely a whisper.

I pull my sleeve down. "I was born with it."

"That's not possible."

"Why?"

He takes a step into the room. His hand goes to the knife on his belt. "Because that's the moon mark. Royal bloodline. The last one died sixteen years ago."

I back up. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." His eyes are wild now. "You're not dormant. You're royal. And if Vivienne finds out, she won't just kill you."

He stops.

"She'll burn this whole city down to make sure you're the last."

The glow on my wrist flickers.

And the lights in the loft go out.