The first faint light of dawn stretched across the DeSilva estate, turning the courtyard’s marble stones a pale silver and casting a blue-gray haze over the forest. Birds had not yet started their morning chorus as the world hovered in that quiet, ethereal space between night and day.

  Sofia moved beneath the cool sheets, instinctively reaching for the warmth that should have been beside her.

  Empty.

  She opened her eyes. The drapes fluttered from a cracked window’s draft, bringing the crisp, cold scent of wet leaves, damp earth and wood smoke from the chimneys. Beyond it, the forest remained still. Sofia slid from the bed, her bare feet quiet on the polished floor as she approached the window. With two fingers, she parted the curtains and looked outside.

  The estate grounds, shrouded in fog, seemed almost dreamlike. Then, a movement in the shadows along the forest’s edge caught her attention; a massive shape moving between the trees.

  The direwolf moved with predatory grace, its broad shoulders shifting with quiet, deadly strength. In the early morning sunlight, the creature’s black fur flowed like ink across its powerful body. Streaks of silver hair ran from each ear down its flanks, ending above the hindquarters. Even in this primal state, the sign of his regal status revealed itself.

  “Maxx,” she whispered. After centuries of seeing him in this form, it still filled her with a deep, instinctive awe. A recognition older than memory.

  His eyes, glowing a muted grey, scanned the treeline before turning toward the manor. He crossed the courtyard with long, deliberate strides, paws barely making a sound on the fallen leaves.

  As he approached the main terrace, his form shimmered, silver light weaving through coat and muscle. His shape shrank, shifted, and rose—his body elongated, bones rearranged, fur faded like smoke sucked into the wind.

  And then he was human again. Barefoot and bare-chested, a thin sheen of dew covered his skin. His dark hair, disheveled by the change and highlighted by silver streaks at his temples, reflected the morning sun. He stood in the grass, strong, whole, and beautiful in the dangerous, primal way only he could be.

  Sofia stepped onto the bedroom terrace just as he straightened.

  He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Sofia,” he called out, his voice low with the roughness of early morning.

  “Out before sunrise,” she yelled down, “you haven’t done that in years.”

  “I needed some time alone.”

  “I’ll be right down,” she said with a wave.

  Several minutes later she emerged through the front doors, descended the grand staircase, and proceeded along the stone pathway to join him on the lawn. Clad in an emerald green robe, she tossed her hair back and reached out to him, her fingers gliding across his bare chest.

  Maxx pulled her close and placed a soft kiss on her neck just below the ear. A quiet gasp escaped as she succumbed to his embrace. They held each other without a word passing between them, cherishing the simple comfort of being together.

  “I hate waking up alone,” she whispered, hugging him tighter.

  His arms encircled her waist as he leaned back slightly to gaze into her soft brown eyes.

  “Out hunting?” she asked.

  “No, just checking the perimeter and thinking about Stefan, the subway killings and other things,” he answered.

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  “Well, I think sometimes you worry a little too much, mi amor.”

  “For you. For Seraphine.” He gently pressed his forehead against hers. “Not nearly enough.”

  Her lips met his in a brief, tender kiss. They made their way back to the house, walking side-by-side, her arm entwined with his.

  The kitchen’s warm glow soon greeted them, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The air, thick with the sweet scent of cinnamon, maple syrup, and apple cider, evoked a comforting sense of nostalgia. It was one of the few rooms in the estate filled with everyday life. Copper pans dangled above a cool marble counter, kissed by the morning sun, while fragrant bundles of dried rosemary and sage hung suspended over the stove.

  The once quiet room echoed with a faint hiss from the faucet as she filled a kettle and placed it on the stovetop. Meanwhile, Maxx’s hand closed around the worn wooden handle of a vintage coffee grinder; the rich aroma of roasted beans stirring as he cranked.

  The teapot began to whistle, its steam rising like a gentle sigh in the quiet air. Sofia set two large mugs on the countertop while Maxx poured the fresh grounds into a French press and added hot water.

  They sipped their coffee quietly at the island counter as the morning sun rose, filling the kitchen with a soft, golden glow.

  Sofia straightened before breaking the silence. “What are we to do about all of this? The councils, Stefan, the killings? We need to regain our footing before things go too far.”

  Maxx took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes drifting upward to meet her gaze. “Though I really don’t want to get mixed up in this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, “especially not with the subway murders, I might just have to.”

  “What happened to staying neutral?”

  “I’m not taking a side. I can’t. But if either of the councils asks for help to clean up the mess, perhaps my cooperation will deflect their attention from you, Seraphine, and our family.”

  “I doubt the Lycan and Nightborn councils will be eager to accept your assistance,” she stated, placing her mug on the table and folding her arms. “If anything, they’ll invent a reason to point the finger at you, at us, for this disaster.”

  “I think it’s worth a try,” he said, draining the last of his coffee and setting his cup next to hers. “I’ll wait and see if they approach me first. I’m not offering my services unless they ask.”

  Sofia remained motionless for a moment before nodding. “Okay, and what shall Seraphine and I do in the meantime?”

  “The two of you will stay here,” he said. “No travel. No gallery visits. No trips to the city. Not until we understand who or what committed those killings and how the council’s plan to handle things.”

  “Maxx—”

  “No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Listen to me. The estate grounds provide excellent protection. The Wardens are awake and strong. No Nightborn, no wolf pack, no hunter will cross our borders without my knowing. Not even Stefan can breach the perimeter now.”

  Sofia’s breath softened. “You’re certain?”

  “Yes, I am. As long as you stay here, you’ll be safe.”

  A faint smile touched her lips. “And you?”

  “I’ll deal with whatever happens next.”

  She covered his hand with hers. “Together, Maxx. We face this together.”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Together.”

  When finished, they proceeded upstairs, the aged wooden staircase softly creaking with each step. Maxx pushed open the door to his study, a sanctuary filled with dark wood, tall bookshelves, ancient maps, and the faint aroma of cedar and old ink.

  Sofia walked over to the window, her gaze fixed on the delicate patterns of frost slowly dissolving on the cool glass. Maxx came up behind her, his hands gliding warmly over her stomach before he drew her into a close hug. Yielding to him, she leaned back to return his warm embrace.

  “The subway incident is drawing too much attention,” he said, voice smooth and his tone low. “I’m bringing in someone who can help me answer questions without raising much suspicion.”

  “Who?” she asked, turning in his arms to face him.

  “Someone close to the subway investigation. Someone, I feel, has earned our trust.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  She studied him. “You’re going into the city.”

  He nodded. “Today.”

  Sofia’s voice dropped. “Be careful.”

  He didn’t smile, but his expression softened. “I need you to trust me. Like you did centuries ago.”

  “I’ve never stopped,” she whispered.

  His hand slid up her back, pulling her close. Their foreheads touched.

  “I love you,” he said.

  Sofia exhaled, her voice barely a breath. “And I you.”

  Maxx’s lips met hers — gentle, then growing deeper, warmer, a promise in his kiss. When it finally ended, his breath hovered at her mouth.

  “I’ll return before dusk,” he said.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  He stepped away, retrieved his coat from the chair, and pulled it over his bare skin with fluid ease. He paused at the study door and turned to glance over his shoulder.

  “Keep Seraphine close.”

  “I will.”

  Maxx vanished down the hall. The estate felt larger without him, quieter, more alert. Sofia stood alone for a long moment. “Come back to me,” she whispered to the empty room.