“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“I don’t need to. If it’s against Joseph and Samuel, count me in—especially after what they did to Clara.”
His voice turns steel, and I feel my wolf stir.
“You really believe Joseph had something to do with her death?”
Greyson’s eyes harden. “You doubt me?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Andrea believes it too. She wanted to cut ties with Samuel but didn’t want to leave Clara’s daughter unprotected.”
“Understandable,” Greyson says, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Cleo needs all the protection she can get. Especially now that Joseph’s trying to marry her off.”
A growl builds in my throat. Just the thought of Cleo being handed over ignites something primal in me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, already bracing.
“Rumor says Samuel came up with the idea. And Linda jumped at it.” Of course she did. My teeth grit.
“She’s always spinning her web,” I snap. “Because if Cleo marries into power, Lydia and Samuel get Shadowcrest.”
Greyson leans on my hood, voice low. “Exactly. I am curious… how’d you get pulled into this?”
I clench my jaw, heat simmering under my skin. “Be ready for war, old man,” I say. “Because if you’re right about Samuel, it’s me and you against the rest.”
Greyson laughs—a low, feral sound that promises blood. “Good thing I’m on the winning side. Tell me—what made you draw the line? You’ve always tried to keep peace.”
“Sometimes peace isn’t an option,” I answer. “Not when the people you care about are treated like pawns.”
Cleo’s face flashes through my mind—brave, fierce, vulnerable.
Greyson watches me carefully, then nods. “Ah. So it’s personal.”
“Isn’t it always?” I mutter. “When you’re protecting what’s yours, the rules change.”
I turn to leave, hand on the door, only to pause.
“Tell me something,” I say without looking back. “If you had a second chance with Clara…”
His jaw tightens. Nostrils flare.
The silence says more than words ever could.
His voice, when it comes, is like gravel dragged through old wounds. “I’d bring this city to its knees to protect her. And Cleo.”
“Well, there’s your answer, Greyson.”
Greyson laughs—deep and guttural, something ancient in it. Recognition. Bond.
“Indeed,” he says, eyes glinting with something that wasn’t there before. “Because the only woman worth going to war over… is your mate.”
The truth’s been etched into my bones since the moment I knew Cleo was mine.
“Exactly,” I reply, heat flooding my veins at the thought of her. The feeling borders on obsession. “And I’ll tear apart anyone who tries to claim her.”
“Love makes us do the unthinkable,” Greyson muses, voice dipped in memory and instinct. He knows—it’s never just about power or land. It’s the heart. Always the heart.
“Even before she’s fully mine,” I admit, voice rough. The idea of Cleo untouched by the bond, unaware of what burns between us, stirs something savage inside me.
