Lyra's POV
I didn't wake up to an alarm. I woke up to a heartbeat.
It was a slow, steady rhythm against my ear. Thump... thump... thump. A living metronome. It was soothing, hypnotic, and completely wrong.
My bed didn't have a heartbeat.
My eyes snapped open, but I didn't move. Years of sleeping with a weapon under my pillow had taught me stillness. Assess first. React second.
I was warm. Too warm. My body was draped over something solid and unyielding, my leg thrown over a pair of heavy thighs, my fingers curled into the fabric of a white dress shirt.
A shirt that smelled like ozone, expensive whiskey, and danger.
Damon.
The memory of last night crashed into me. The bio-weapon. The fever. The way I'd practically mauled him on the couch. I am the fire, I'd said. God. I wanted to die. I wanted to phase into a cockroach and scuttle under the floorboards.
I slowly lifted my head.
Damon was awake.
He was propped up against my headboard, one arm resting casually on his raised knee, the other lost somewhere in the tangle of sheets near my waist. He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, twirling it absently. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the ceiling, his profile sharp enough to cut glass against the morning light filtering through the curtains.
"You drool," he said. His voice was a morning rasp, deep and textured like rough velvet.
I froze. "I do not."
"You do." He finally turned to look at me. His eyes were clear, the gold fragments in his irises catching the sun. There was no trace of the feral wolf from last night, but the predator was still there, lounging beneath the surface. "And you have a grip like a constrictor snake. I tried to leave three times."
I scrambled back, untangling my limbs from his with as much dignity as I could muster. Which was none. "I fell asleep on the couch."
"You fell asleep shivering," he corrected. He didn't move to help me, just watched with that infuriatingly lazy amusement. "The couch is drafty. I moved you."
"You carried me?"
"You're not exactly heavy, Lyra. You eat like a bird." He brought the unlit cigarette to his lips, then thought better of it and tucked it behind his ear. "Besides, you didn't complain. You purred."
I felt the heat rush up my neck. "That was the succubus blood. It's... parasitic. It seeks heat sources."
"Is that what I am?" He leaned forward, the sudden movement closing the distance I'd just created. "A heat source?"
He smelled wonderful. It was unfair. He smelled like crisp linen and the lingering smoke of the city and him. My traitorous body leaned in before my brain could scream stop.
"Last night," I started, my voice wavering. "You left."
"I did." His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up. "But I came back. I'm an Alpha, Lyra. I don't leave my territory unguarded."
Territory. The word hung in the air, heavy and possessive. He wasn't talking about the apartment.
"I'm not your territory," I said, but the protest lacked conviction. My pulse was hammering in my throat, a traitor to my own cause.
"Keep telling yourself that." He reached out, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. His skin was rough, calloused from years of fighting, but his touch was shockingly gentle. "You missed a spot. Drool."
I swatted his hand away, scrambling off the bed. "I have to check the kids."
"They're asleep. I checked ten minutes ago."
Of course he did. I grabbed my silk robe from the floor—when had that come off?—and wrapped it tight around me like armor. I needed distance. I needed caffeine. I needed a plan.
Plan B.
The thought hit me like a bucket of ice water. The kids. The DNA. The bond. Every second I stayed here, every second I let him play house, was a second closer to him finding out everything. If he knew about the triplets... if he knew they were his...
He wouldn't just claim them. He would take them to the storm stronghold. He would lock me up in a gilded tower "for my own safety." Or worse, the Council would find out.
I needed to run. Now.
"I need a shower," I lied, backing towards the bathroom.
Damon narrowed his eyes. The playful lazy energy evaporated, replaced by sudden alertness. He sat up straighter. "You're running."
"I smell like a bio-lab dumpster. I'm showering."
"You have that look," he said, swinging his legs off the bed. He was still wearing his slacks and the wrinkled shirt from last night. barefoot. "The 'I scan the exits every time I enter a room' look. What are you planning, Lyra?"
"Breakfast," I snapped.
My phone on the nightstand buzzed.
It wasn't a text vibration. It was a rhythmic, three-short-one-long pattern.
Starfire Priority One Alert.
Current dropped through my stomach. I lunged for the phone. Damon was faster. He snatched it up, his frown deepening as he looked at the screen.
"Encrypted," he muttered. "Who is 'S'?"
"Give it to me." I didn't wait. I grabbed his wrist, twisting a pressure point. He didn't even flinch, but he let me take the phone.
I unlocked it. The message was a single line of red text against a black background.
LEGION INBOUND. ETA 2 MINUTES. SIGNATURE: JAX VANE.
The blood drained from my face. Two minutes. Jax wasn't just sending a message; he was sending a hit squad.
"We have to go," I said, my voice turning into steel. "Now."
Damon saw the shift. He didn't ask questions. He stood up, his body flowing into combat readiness. "What is it?"
"Company." I threw the phone onto the bed and sprinted for the closet. "Get the kids. Don't let them pack. Shoes only."
"Lyra, talk to me. Who is coming?"
"Your past. My nightmare. Does it matter?" I ripped open the false back of my closet, revealing the heavy go-bags I'd packed three years ago. Weapons. Cash. Fake IDs. "They'll be here in... ninety seconds."
WHOOSH.
The air pressure in the room dropped. A split second of silence before the roar.
"DOWN!" Damon shouted.
He didn't run for cover. He ran for me.
He hit me like a linebacker, driving me into the floor just as the world exploded.
The balcony doors disintegrated. A shockwave of heat and glass shards swept over us. I curled into a ball, but I didn't feel the impact. I felt Damon. He was covering me completely, his body a heavy, solid shield. I heard the wet thud of debris hitting his back. I heard him grunt, a low, pained sound that vibrated through his chest into mine.
Dust choked the air. The fire alarm blared, a piercing shriek.
"Damon?" I pushed against his chest. He was heavy. "Damon!"
He lifted his head. There was a cut on his cheek, bleeding sluggishly. Glass dust coated his dark hair like snow. "I'm fine," he coughed. "Clear the room."
I shoved him off and rolled to my feet. The apartment was a wreck. heavy smoke billowed in from the shattered balcony. Through the haze, I saw the sleek black shapes of drones hovering outside.
Hunter-Killers. Jax had upgraded his toys.
"The kids!" I screamed.
I didn't need to check. The door to the triplets' room burst open. Three small figures in matching pilot pajamas stood there. They weren't crying. They weren't even scared.
Leo adjusted his glasses, scanning the room. "RPG-7 based on the acoustic signature. Modified payload."
Cyra held her stuffed rabbit by the ears. "They broke my window."
Aries was already holding his mini-crossbow. "Can I shoot them, Mom?"
"No shooting," I ordered, grabbing two duffel bags. I tossed one to Damon, who caught it one-handed, looking from the kids to the bags to me with wide, shocked eyes. "Plan B, soldiers. Stairwell. Go."
"Plan B?" Damon demanded, following us as we sprinted into the hallway. "You have an evacuation plan for an artillery strike?"
"I have a plan for everything," I said, kicking the stairwell door open. "Except you."
Another explosion rocked the building. The floor tilted. Plaster rained down on our heads.
"Move!" Damon barked, his Alpha voice cutting through the chaos. He scooped up Cyra, who looked delighted to be carried. "Where are we going?"
"Garage," I said, checking the magazine of my Glock. "I have a car."
"My SUV is armored," he countered.
"My car has missiles."
We hit the landing. Below us, heavy boots stomped upwards. Jax's ground team. We were trapped.
"Up," Damon commanded. He stopped, handing Cyra to me. His eyes were glowing, the gold burning bright enough to pierce the smoke. "Go to the roof. My chopper is inbound."
"You called a chopper?"
"I'm a billionaire, Lyra. I always have a chopper." He turned to face the stairs, rolling his shoulders. "I'll buy you time."
"No!" I grabbed his arm. His skin was hot, fever-hot. "There are too many of them. They're enhanced. Jax used the serum."
"I don't care if they're gods," Damon snarled, a low growl ripping from his throat. claws elongated from his fingertips, sharp and lethal. "They woke up my kids."
My kids.
He didn't know. He couldn't know. But he claimed them anyway.
"Damon," I said, my voice softening.
He looked back. For a second, just a second, the wolf receded.
"Don't die," I said. "You still owe me that sleep."
A corner of his mouth twitched. "Get them safe. Or I'll hunt you down myself."
He turned and charged down the stairs into the smoke.
"Go!" I yelled at the triplets.
We ran up. Behind us, the stairwell erupted in the sounds of tearing metal and screams that weren't entirely human.
I didn't look back.
Run, little wolf.
But this time, I wasn't running away from him. I was running so I could come back.
Jax Vane wanted a war?
I touched the cold metal of my gun.
I'd give him an apocalypse.