Cass’s POV

I knelt between Colt’s legs as he leaned back in the armchair, his gaze heavy with an intensity that made my pulse stutter. "Good girl," he growled, his voice a low vibration that seemed to rattle my very bones.

My anticipation was a physical ache. As I slid his trousers down, his member sprang free, engorged and demanding. I didn't rush. I mapped the length of him with slow, deliberate kisses, my tongue dancing along the ridge before I finally took him into my mouth. The warmth, the scent of him—it was an intoxicating blend of danger and devotion.

When he finally pulled me up to straddle his lap, the world narrowed down to the friction of our skin and the ragged rhythm of our breathing.

"Sit on me and claim me, baby," he commanded, his hands gripping my hips with possessive strength.

I sank down, taking him fully, a sharp moan escaping my lips as we found our rhythm. He was rough, demanding, and utterly mine. As our movements quickened, he turned us so I was braced against the armchair, his hands tangling in my hair, pulling back just enough to tilt my head.

"My little mate," he rasped against my ear, his thrusts becoming deep and punishing. "Take it."

I clung to the upholstery, my nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure mounted, cresting until the room blurred into a haze of raw, primal sensation. When he finally spilled himself into me, I collapsed against him, boneless and breathless.

The next morning, the pack house felt different. The weight of my new responsibilities as Alpha was heavy, but training with Victor helped clear my head.

Kanda, however, was a force of nature. She spent the entire session shamelessly flirting with Victor, her feline grace making his stoic Alpha persona crumble.

"I've always wanted to spar with a werewolf in my shifted form," she purred, slapping her own backside with a wink.

Victor looked like he’d been struck by lightning, his mouth agape. I couldn't help but roar with laughter as he eventually bolted from the room, clearly desperate to escape her predatory gaze.

Later, in the dining room, the chaos of the pack was almost comforting. Dash and Beck were locked in their usual verbal sparring match, while Bryn and Miles argued over a notepad. It felt like family—fractured, loud, and messy, but

ours

.

I saw Kanda slide into a seat next to Serge, her eyes tracing him with a hunger that made me wonder if her "joke" about being in heat was actually closer to the truth than she let on.

"It’s crazy to think this is our family now," I whispered to Colt, leaning against him.

"It is," he agreed, tracing the line of my neck. "How are you feeling about the meeting later? About being Alpha?"

"Stressed," I admitted. "But having you by my side... it makes it possible."

"Well, we have a little time before the meeting," he said with a wicked glint in his eye. "Let's go upstairs and 'destress'."

I laughed, letting him lead me toward the stairs. But as we neared the sleeping quarters, the air shifted. The atmosphere turned stagnant, metallic.

A dark, rusty smear marred the wood of a nearby door. My stomach dropped.

"Colt," I breathed, freezing in place. "That's blood."

"It's thick," he muttered, his posture instantly shifting from lover to warrior. "It's not just a smudge."

He pushed the door open, his body shielding mine. The sight inside hit us like a physical blow: a man lay sprawled across the bed, his life pooled in a vibrant, sickening crimson stain across the sheets.

"Oh, god..." I whispered, the horror of the scene chilling the heat of our earlier encounter to ice. Someone had brought the war inside our walls.