Chapter 211
Lynette's POV
The SUV's heated seats did nothing for the cold settling in my chest.
I watched snow drift past the window. Thick flakes that stuck to the glass before melting into water trails.
Tomorrow I'd be gone.
Back to the Greys. Back to Elara in my old body. Back to Mom's fussing and Dad's quiet pride and Ethan's overprotective bullshit.
Back to home.
My fingers tightened on the door handle.
"Miss Lynette?" Natasha's voice cut through my thoughts. Warm. Professional. "We're here."
I blinked.
The Natural History Museum sat before us—red brick covered in a thin layer of snow. Old European architecture. Probably some rich asshole's estate before they converted it eighty years ago.
"It's the oldest museum in town," Natasha said. Her tone shifted to tour guide mode. "Though if you're interested in historical collections, Master Kael's manor has a far more extensive—"
"I'm not here to sightsee," I said. Kept my voice flat. "I'm meeting someone."
Her mouth closed.
Good.
I pushed the door open before she could offer to escort me inside.
Cold air hit my face. Sharp. Clean.
I breathed it in deep.
The museum lobby was nearly empty. Just a handful of visitors wearing masks. Their footsteps echoed on marble floors.
I scanned the space.
Left wing. Fossil exhibit.
There.
A familiar figure stood with his back to me. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark jacket. He was staring at a saber-tooth tiger skeleton like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.
Fucking Cole.
Always with the dramatics.
I walked toward him. My boots made no sound on the polished floor—old habit. Twenty years of sneaking up on enemies didn't just disappear.
He didn't turn around until I was three feet away.
"Alpha." His voice was low. Careful. "I thought you'd go straight back to Canada."
"Can't," I said. "Not until everything's handled."
Cole finally turned to face me.
He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes. Jaw tight with stress.
"Wild Hunt's remnants," I continued. Kept my voice quiet. "I need you to make their lives hell."
His eyebrows rose. "Using what angle?"
"The shipping incident." I crossed my arms. "Let the Council believe Wild Hunt violated protocol. Attacked civilians. Broke the Accords."
"We don't have proof—"
"We don't need proof." I cut him off. "We just need doubt. Suspicion. Let the Council dogs tear them apart while we watch."
Cole's expression shifted. Understanding dawned.
"You want them busy," he said slowly. "Too busy to come after your family."
"Exactly."
He nodded once. Sharp. Efficient.
This was why I trusted him. No questions. No judgment. Just execution.
"Consider it done," he said.
Silence settled between us.
Not uncomfortable. Just... weighted.
Cole shifted his weight. His fingers drummed against his thigh—nervous tell he'd never quite broken.
"When are you leaving?" he asked.
"Tomorrow."
His head snapped up. "That fast?"
I looked past him toward the museum windows. Snow was falling harder now. Covering the streets in white.
"I have family waiting," I said. My voice came out softer than I meant. "People who actually give a shit if I come home or not."
Cole's jaw worked.
"You know what that's like?" I asked. Turned back to meet his eyes. "Being wanted? Not because you're useful. Not because you're strong. Just... because you're you?"
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he looked away.
"No," he admitted. "I don't."
Something twisted in my chest.
Cole had followed me for five years. Through blood and snow and endless fucking war. He'd taken orders without question. Killed without hesitation. Bled for me more times than I could count.
And he'd never asked for anything in return.
"I'm worried," he said quietly. "That once you go back... you won't come back at all."
My throat tightened.
"Cole—"
"Don't." He held up a hand. "Don't make promises you can't keep. You deserve that life, Lynette. The normal one. With people who love you."
He stepped closer. His hand landed on my shoulder. Heavy. Warm.
"You've given enough," he said. "More than enough. So if you decide to stay with them forever?" His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Good. That's fucking good."
My eyes burned.
Shit.
I reached up. Covered his hand with mine.
"You're a good man, Cole."
"I'm a killer."
"So am I." I squeezed his hand once. Hard. "Doesn't mean we can't want better."
He nodded.
We stood there in the empty fossil exhibit. Two predators pretending to be civilized.
"I'll handle Wild Hunt," Cole said finally. "You focus on your family."
"Thank you."
He glanced at his watch. "Tomorrow evening. I'll pick you up at six."
"I'll be ready."
"Good." He turned toward the exit, then paused. "And Lynette? Pack light. You're coming back."
It wasn't a question.
"Yeah," I said. "I am."
He nodded once and walked away.
This time I didn't watch him leave.
The evening of my departure came too fast.
I stood in the manor's entrance hall with my suitcase at my feet. Black leather. Compact. Everything I needed for the trip home.
Kael was waiting by the door.
He looked... fuck.
Black sweater. Dark jeans. Hair slightly messy like he'd been running his hands through it.
Those amber eyes locked onto mine.
"Drake can take you to the airport," he said. His voice was carefully neutral.
"Cole's picking me up."
Something flickered across his face. Too quick to read.
"I see."
Silence stretched between us.
I should say something. Thank him for the protection. For the resources. For the coat he'd given me last night that still smelled like cedar.
But my throat felt tight.
"Kael—"
"Be safe," he interrupted. Stepped closer. "If anything happens. Anything at all. You call me."
It wasn't a request.
"I will," I said.
He studied my face. His gaze moved over my features like he was memorizing them.
"I mean it, Lynette." His voice dropped lower. Rougher. "Day or night. I don't care. You call."
My heart did that stupid stuttering thing again.
Fucking hell.
"Okay," I managed.
Headlights swept through the windows. Cole's car pulling up the drive.
Kael's jaw tightened.
"That's my ride," I said.
"Yeah."
Neither of us moved.
The air between us felt charged. Heavy with things neither of us would say.
I grabbed my suitcase handle.
"Thank you," I said. "For everything."