The morning light was an intruder. It cut through the thin, floral curtains of Aria's living room, stinging my eyes and pulling me back from the first peaceful sleep I'd had in five years.
I shifted on the sofa, a groan escaping my throat. My chest felt tight, but the searing,
poisoned heat of the Iron-Thorn silver was gone. I looked down, peeling back the edge of the makeshift bandage. The skin was pink and new. No human should have healed that fast. My wolf might be locked away, but Aria's touch—the touch of the White Queen—had done the impossible.
Then, the vibration started.
My phone, tucked into the pocket of my ruined trousers on the floor, was buzzing incessantly. I reached for it, my joints stiff. The screen was a wall of notifications.
68 Missed Calls: Marcus (Manager)
114 Unread Messages: Public Relations Team
I hit dial. Marcus picked up on the first ring, his voice sounding like he was in the middle of a heart attack.
"Boss? Thank God. Where are you? I've been calling since 3:00 AM!"
"I'm safe, Marcus," I said, my voice low as I glanced toward the hallway. I didn't want to wake Aria. "Report."
"Safe? Boss, you're the top trending topic on every news cycle from here to the capital! The library footage leaked. It's not just a 'robbery' story. The headlines are calling it 'The Falcon's Mystery Woman.' They're analyzing the footage, sir. People are pointing out that the attacker didn't look human. They're asking why a billionaire CEO threw himself in front of a librarian he supposedly just met."
I closed my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose. In my world, I was a King. In this world, I was a brand. And I had just compromised both.
"And it gets worse," Marcus continued, his voice dropping. "The paparazzi are scouring the city. If they find out you disappeared with her, they'll confirm there's a scandal. They'll tear her life apart to find out who she is. Where are you?"
"I'm at her apartment," I whispered.
"Oh, no. Boss, you have to get out of there. Now. If a single camera catches you leaving that building, Aria is no longer a librarian—she's a target for every tabloid and every rival business predator you have. I'm five minutes away in the armored sedan. Be downstairs. Now."
I hung up, the weight of the phone feeling like a lead weight. For a moment, I had forgotten I was the head of Falcon Enterprises. I had been so consumed by Aria, by the scent of her home and the way she looked when she was healing me, that I had forgotten how dangerous my shadow was to a "normal" human life.
The Quiet Before the Storm
I stood up, my body protesting, and walked toward the kitchen.
Aria was there. She was wearing an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair tied in a messy bun. She was hovering over a coffee pot, the steam curling around her face. She looked so soft, so blissfully unaware of the media firestorm currently devouring her anonymity.
"You're awake," she said, her voice warm. She didn't look at me like a CEO. She
looked at me like a man who had bled for her. "How is your chest?"
"Better," I said, stepping into the small kitchen. The space was tiny, making me feel
like a giant in a dollhouse. "Aria, I... I have to leave."
She paused, the coffee mug halfway to her lips. A flash of something—disappointment?
Loneliness?—flickered in her brown eyes before she masked it with a polite smile. "Of course. You're a busy man. I'm sure your office is wondering where you are."
I wanted to reach out and take the mug from her hands. I wanted to tell her that I didn't want to go to an office; I wanted to stay in this cramped kitchen and watch the sun
move across the floorboards.
"It's not just work," I said, stepping closer. I could smell the coffee and the faint
scent of lilies that always clung to her. "The incident yesterday... it's on the news. My presence here makes you a target for people who want to sell a story. I won't let my life ruin yours."
Aria looked down at the counter. "My life isn't exactly a headline, Finn. I'm just a girl who works at a library."
"Not anymore," I murmured. I reached out, my fingers grazing her chin, tilting
her head up so she had to look at me. "To the world, you are the woman I chose to protect. And the world is very cruel to the people I choose."
Her breath hitched. The "static" returned, that hum of electricity between us that defied
human logic. For a second, I saw it again—that tiny spark of violet in her pupils.
"Why did you choose to protect me?" she whispered. "We're strangers."
You were my life for five hundred years, I thought. You were the light to my shadow.
"I saw something in you," I said instead. "Something worth more than all the gold in my vaults."
The sound of a heavy car door closing echoed from the street below. Marcus was here.
The Invisible Shield
I pulled away, the loss of her warmth feeling like a physical ache. I grabbed my ruined jacket, the CEO mask sliding back into place. My face became a wall of granite.
"Thank you for the coffee, Aria. And for... everything else."
I walked out of the apartment without looking back. If I looked back, I wouldn't leave.
In the back of the blacked-out sedan, Marcus was already on his laptop, his fingers flying across the keys. "We're scrubbing what we can, sir, but the internet is forever. We need a statement."
"Forget the statement," I growled, staring out the window at the brick building where
Aria lived. "I need security. But not Falcon security. I don't want black suits and earpiees. She'll notice."
Marcus looked up, surprised. "Undercover?"
"I want our best. I want them stationed in the apartment across from her. I want them
following her to the library. If a rogue dog so much as barks at her, I want it neutralized. But she must never know they are there. To her, the world must stay as quiet and safe as it was before I arrived."
"That's an expensive shadow, Boss," Marcus noted.
"I don't care about the cost," I said, my amber eyes flashing as the car pulled away.
"The Iron-Thorns know she is waking up. They'll be watching the news too. They think she's my weakness."
I gripped the armrest until the leather groaned.
"They're right. She is my only weakness. And I will burn this city to the ground before I let them touch her again."
Aria
I stood by the window, watching the sleek black car pull away.
The apartment felt too big now. Too quiet. I touched my chin where his fingers had been, the skin still tingling. Finn. Or Mr. Falcon. I didn't know which one was real.
I turned on the TV, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
There I was. A grainy cell-phone video of the library. It showed the man in the trench coat
lunging, and then it showed him—Fenrir—throwing himself into the path of those claws. The news anchor was talking about "Secret Romances" and "Targeted Attacks."
But they were wrong. They were all wrong.
I looked at the palm of my hand. I remembered the white light. I remembered the way the attacker's skin had smoked when I touched him.
Fenrir wasn't protecting a librarian. He was protecting a freak.
I grabbed my bag, heading for the door. I needed to go to the library. I needed to see the archives for myself. If my past was hidden in those old land grants and forest
myths, I was going to find it.
As I stepped onto the sidewalk, I felt a strange sensation—the feeling of eyes on the back of my neck. I looked around, but the street was normal. A man was jogging. A woman was pushing a stroller. A black SUV was parked at the corner, its windows dark.
Everything looked perfectly fine.
But for the first time in three years, I didn't feel alone.
As I turned the corner toward the library, I didn't notice the flicker of a shadow on the rooftop above me, or the way the streetlights dimmed as I passed. I only knew that the 'simple librarian' had died in that kitchen this morning. Somewhere, deep in the archives of my mind, a door had been kicked open. I didn't just want answers anymore. I wanted to know why a King had fallen for a girl like me—and what he was really hiding behind that wall of granite and gold."