Chapter 4

Ellery POV:

The acetylene torch hissed, a blue tongue of fire licking the crucible.

I stood in the basement workshop. The platinum ring-the Luna's Ring, a symbol of eternal servitude-sat in the ceramic bowl.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

I turned up the heat.

Gold wept. Diamonds sank into the molten sludge. The meteorite shard cracked with a satisfying pop.

I poured the slag into a mold. It cooled into a deformed, ugly lump. I put it in a velvet box.

Upstairs, I walked into the study. Empty.

I placed the box on his desk.

Then, the bookshelf. Dante's Inferno. The hidden door clicked.

The Panic Room. The brain of the pack.

The walls pulsed with blue runes. My art. My soul.

I placed my hands on the central console.

Welcome, Weaver.

"I'm sorry," I told the magic.

I didn't destroy it. That would trigger alarms. Instead, I introduced a cancer.

I rewrote the source code.

If Ellery leaves the territory, initiate Protocol Zero.

Protocol Zero wasn't an explosion. It was a unraveling. Privacy shields fail first. Then alarms. Then the physical barriers dissolve. Twelve hours of decay.

I poured my energy into the stone until my knees shook. The runes flashed violet, then settled back to blue.

The time bomb was ticking.

The front door slammed upstairs.

"Ellery!" Brendan's voice boomed. "Server's down! Financial data is glitching!"

Liar.

I monitored those servers. They were fine. He just wanted me close while he... managed his affairs.

I went upstairs. Brendan stood in the hall, looking agitated but smelling of deception.

"Fix it," he said, gripping my shoulders. "You're the only one I trust with the tech. You're the anchor of this pack."

An anchor is just a weight you drag along the bottom so you don't drift.

"I'll work on it," I said.

"Good girl." He kissed my forehead. Dry lips. "I have to go back to the office. Damage control."

"Okay."

He wasn't going to the office. He was going to Kiya.

"I'm not an anchor, Brendan," I whispered as the door closed. "I'm the storm."

I went to the bedroom and packed a duffel. Cash. ID. Potion.

And a notebook.

Rule 1: Humans do not growl.

Rule 2: Humans cannot hear a heartbeat from across the room.

Rule 3: Humans cry.

Tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Independence Day.

Fitting.