​Ren gripped Cilian’s shirt. "Obsessed? Why?"

​"It doesn’t matter why," Cilian hissed, his eyes scanning the shadows as they reached a reinforced steel door. "He’s a sick vampire who just wants your blood, and he’s using this war as an excuse to finally get his hands on you. He thinks he can get rid of me and take what he wants while everything is burning."

​Cilian kicked the door open, leading into a private underground garage. A black armored SUV was already running, its headlights cutting through the gloom. Cilian placed Ren into the passenger seat, his movements quick but careful.

"I can take him out with no sweat but not while you’re in danger, Ren. I’ll take you to safety and then finish everything." He smiled, kissing Ren’s forehead.

​"Cilian," Ren whispered, his voice weak as he watched Cilian pull back and check his weapons to make sure they were properly loaded. "Julian... he’s coming for us because of what you did to the Mordecais, isn’t he?"

​Cilian paused, his hand on the car door. He looked at Ren, his face smeared with blood and his eyes still rimmed with that terrifying red.

​"He’s coming because he thinks I’m vulnerable now. He thinks because I’m focused on you, I’ll miss the knife he’s aiming at my back." Cilian climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the vehicle into gear. "But he’s wrong. I’ll kill every single one of them before I let them touch a hair on your head."

​They roared out of the garage, the tires screeching as they hit the road. Behind them, the Manor was a silhouette of smoke and orange flames. Ren watched the rearview mirror, seeing the distant lights of other cars following them through the dark.

​"I’m taking you to a private clinic," Cilian said, his eyes fixed on the road. "You’re bleeding too much, Ren. You need to be stitched up properly."

​Ren looked down at his stomach. The blood was soaking through Cilian’s jacket, which he had wrapped around Ren’s waist. He felt lightheaded, the truth he had just learned swirling in his mind with the sound of the engine.

​"You really... you really destroyed everything for me," Ren muttered, more to himself than to Cilian.

​Cilian didn’t look away from the road, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"I told you, Ren. I’m a monster. But I’m your monster. As long as I’m breathing, no one—not your family, not the Mordecais, and certainly not Julian—is taking you away from me."

Ren’s heart did a flip. A thud that he had felt on the island and hadn’t felt since they came back. The same thud he used to feel every day two years ago before his world shattered. Before...

He looked at Cilian.

Before this man tore up his world just to keep him safe.

He closed his eyes, listening to the rhythm of his heart. Everything was going so wrong.

The car sped through the dark streets, the engine a low, constant hum that felt like it was vibrating inside Ren’s chest. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, his vision beginning to swim.

​Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of his brothers. He remembered their laughter, the way they had clinked glasses and toasted to his ’bright future’ in France. It had all been a lie. They hadn’t been celebrating his success; they had been celebrating his sale.

​Beside him, Cilian drove with a cold, focused intensity. He looked like a man who had already accepted his own death, yet was fighting like a demon to postpone Ren’s.

​"Don’t fall asleep, Ren," Cilian commanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through the fog in Ren’s mind. "Talk to me. Tell me I’m a bastard again. Just stay awake."

​Ren let out a weak, breathy laugh that ended in a wince. "You... You really are a jerk, Cilian. You let me believe I was a victim of a random tragedy. You let me mourn people who didn’t even want me."

​"I know," Cilian muttered. He took a sharp turn, the tires screaming against the asphalt. He glanced at the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing at the headlights trailing them in the distance. "But I’d do it again. Every single part of it. If the world tries to take you, I’ll just burn the world down again."

​Ren looked at the Alpha’s profile—the blood on his cheek, the tension in his jaw, the sheer, terrifying weight of a love that was indistinguishable from madness.

​"The island," Ren whispered, his voice barely audible. "Was that a lie too? The things you said there?"

​Cilian finally looked at him, just for a split second, and the raw vulnerability in those gold-brown eyes was more honest than anything Ren had ever seen.

"I told you, Ren. I have never lied to you."

​Ren felt his heart thud again—that heavy, painful beat. That’s right. Cilian had... never lied.

​Suddenly, a loud thud hit the roof of the SUV. The vehicle jolted, and the sound of metal tearing echoed through the cabin.

​"They’re here," Cilian hissed, his hand flying to the holster at his side. He slammed on the brakes, the car skidding sideways as he reached over to shield Ren with his own body.

​Outside the window, a pale hand with long, sharpened nails gripped the edge of the roof, and the glass began to spiderweb.

Julian’s face appeared, upside down, his eyes glowing with a feral, hungry light. He wasn’t looking at Cilian. He was looking straight at Ren’s bleeding stomach.

​"Found you," Julian mouthed through the glass.

"Hold on, Ren."

Cilian didn’t wait for Julian to break through. He slammed the steering wheel to the right, sent the SUV into a violent spin, and stomped on the accelerator. The sudden force threw Julian’s weight off-balance, and with a screech of tearing metal, the vampire was flung from the roof, tumbling into the dark asphalt behind them.

"Cilian!" Ren gasped, clutching his stomach as the sudden movement sent a fresh wave of agony through his midsection.

"I’ve got you," Cilian barked, his eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. He reached over, his large hand pressing firmly against Ren’s thigh, grounding him. "Just keep breathing. Don’t look back."

But Ren couldn’t help it. He looked. In the distance, Julian was already on his feet, his movements unnaturally fluid and fast. He wasn’t running like a human; he was a blur of shadows, gaining ground with every leap. Behind him, two more sets of headlights were closing in—the rest of the Mordecai scouts.

"He’s not stopping," Ren whispered, his voice trembling. "Cilian, he’s faster than the car."

"He’s a hungry dog," Cilian hissed, his jaw set in a grim line. "And I’m tired of throwing him scraps."

Cilian reached into the center console and pulled out a heavy, modified handgun, tossing it into Ren’s lap. Ren stared down at the cold silver metal, his breath hitching.

"You know how to use it," Cilian said, his voice dropping into that dark, commanding tone. "If the glass breaks, aim for the head."