Chapter 125
Kara
Asher's hand covered my ear, but I still heard it. The wet crack of bone, the heavy thud of a corpse hitting hardwood. The awful, final silence that followed.
Oh my God. Oh my God. He's dead. Blake killed him.
My stomach lurched violently. I tasted bile.
Blake killed him. Just like that. No hesitation. No trial. No questions. He'd looked at a threat to me and ended it in three seconds flat.
A man is dead on my bedroom floor.
Because of me.
Through the bond, I felt his savage satisfaction. Felt Cole's cold approval. Felt Asher's grim acceptance, like this was just another Tuesday.
They're not horrified. They're not guilty.
They're... satisfied.
This was what being Luna to three Alphas meant. This was the reality I'd signed up for when I accepted their marks. When I let them bite into my flesh and bind me to them forever.
They're killers, I thought distantly, my mind strangely detached from my body. And they killed for me. They'll keep killing for me.
Should I be horrified? Should I be grateful?
I was both. And neither.
I was just... numb .
And maybe a little bit turned on, which is definitely something I should feel guilty about but can't quite manage.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Asher finally released my face, turning me away from the scene with gentle but firm hands. "Breathe, Kara. Just breathe."
I sucked in air. Out. In again. My white-musk-and-snow scent was a jagged, panicked mess, all the smoothness gone, replaced with sharp edges of fear and adrenaline.
My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.
"Did he..." My voice cracked. "Did he touch me?"
"No." Blake was suddenly there, his hands cupping my face, those gold eyes searching mine desperately, fear and fury warring in their depths. "No, baby. You called for me before he could. You did everything right."
I called for you. Not Asher. Not Cole. You.
Because some part of me knew you'd kill fastest.
"He had chloroform." The words came out flat, disconnected. "He was going to drug me. Take me somewhere."
Somewhere I'd never come back from.
Like my parents. Gone without a trace.
"He was." Asher's tone was ice over steel. "He failed."
Because I screamed. Because Blake came. Because they're mine and I'm theirs and this is what that means.
Violence. Protection. Death.
Cole crouched by the body, flipping it over with clinical efficiency. Pulled back the ski mask.
A stranger. Middle-aged man, dark hair going gray, olive skin, stubble on his jaw. No one I recognized. Just... a person. Who'd been alive three minutes ago and now wasn't.
Because Blake broke his neck like it was nothing.
"Russian tattoos on his neck," Cole reported, his mint scent cold and clinical as he examined the corpse like it was a biology specimen. "Looks like Bratva work. Organized crime."
"Konstantin," Blake snarled, and the name sent ice through my veins.
The man who might have killed my parents.
Who might kill me.
Who just tried.
---
The next few minutes were chaos—controlled chaos, the kind that came from years of Alpha training, but chaos nonetheless.
Beta Keaton arrived within ten minutes—a mountain of a man with deep olive skin, short black hair, and sharp dark eyes that missed nothing. Nearly six-foot-four, built like a tank, wearing tactical gear that made him look like he'd just walked off a battlefield.
Good. We need a battlefield.
He didn't ask questions. Just assessed the scene with cold efficiency—took in the broken window, the corpse, my shaking hands—then turned to the three Alphas.
"Secure the Luna first. I'll handle cleanup and investigation."
Cleanup. Like this is a spilled glass of wine instead of a dead body.
Like this happens all the time.
Maybe it does.
"He came in through the back access near the frozen bay," Asher said, his voice clipped and commanding, slipping seamlessly into Alpha mode. "Avoiding most cameras. Keaton, initiate Level Three lockdown. Ten elite warriors minimum, rotating twenty-four-hour patrol. Double guards at every entry point. Upgrade surveillance—full infrared thermal imaging."
Level Three lockdown. That sounds serious.
That sounds like war.
Blake added, "All pack members in or out get logged. No exceptions. Outside wolves are barred from the territory. Notify border checkpoints—any suspicious vehicles get reported immediately."
We're under siege. In our own home.
Fuck.
Cole looked to Keaton, his mint-and-ozone scent sharp with focus. "Investigate this man's identity. Especially the neck tattoo. I suspect Konstantin connection."
Keaton nodded once, sharp and military-precise. "Understood, Alphas." Then his gaze shifted to me, and his expression softened fractionally—just enough to show he saw me as a person, not just an asset to protect. "Luna, I apologize for the security breach. It won't happen again."
It better not. I can't handle this twice.
My voice came out smaller than I wanted, barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Beta Keaton."
He inclined his head, then gestured to two other warriors who'd appeared in the doorway like ghosts. They moved with practiced efficiency, lifting the body and carrying it out like it was cargo instead of a corpse.
A man. They're carrying out a man who was alive ten minutes ago.
I watched them go, my mind strangely detached, floating somewhere above my body.
This is my life now. Dead bodies removed from my bedroom. Security lockdowns. Assassination attempts.
What the actual fuck.
---
"We need to talk about sleeping arrangements," Asher said after Keaton left, after the room had been swept for evidence, after the window had been temporarily sealed with boards and plastic sheeting.
We were in his bedroom now—neutral territory, since mine had been... compromised . Tainted. I sat on the edge of the massive bed, wrapped in one of Cole's hoodies because I couldn't stop shivering despite the roaring fireplace.
Shock. I'm in shock.
Or maybe just losing my mind.
"Rotating guard," Blake said immediately, his protective instincts in full overdrive. "One of us with her at all times. Three-shift rotation."
"I'll take first watch," Asher agreed without hesitation.
"Second," Blake countered, like they were arguing over who got the last slice of pizza instead of who got to guard me from assassins.
"I'll take third, then." Cole looked at me, his expression gentle but serious. "Kara, is that acceptable? We won't leave you alone until we're sure—"
"Yes." The word came out hoarse, my throat tight. "I... I don't want to be alone right now."
Ever again , I didn't add. But they heard it anyway through the bond, felt my desperate, clinging fear.
I'm pathetic. I'm supposed to be Luna and I'm falling apart.
Fuck it. I'm allowed to fall apart. Someone just tried to kidnap me.
Blake crossed the room in three strides and pulled me into his lap, his fire-and-gunpowder scent wrapping around me like a shield, like armor, like home . "You're not alone, baby. Never again."
Promise?
Can you promise that?
"He could've—" My voice broke, tears finally spilling over. "If I'd been there. If I'd walked in and he—"
"But you didn't." Asher knelt in front of me, his black-ebony-and-tobacco scent solid and grounding, his hands covering mine. "You were smart. You screamed. You called for us. And we came."
"We'll always come," Cole added softly, his hand settling on my shoulder, completing the circle of protection.
Through the bond, their certainty flooded into me. Their fierce, unshakable promise.
One pack. One Luna. Three Alphas.
Protected.
Mine.
But for how long? How long until the next assassin? The next threat?