Chapter 4 The Sound of One Heart Beating

LENA's POV

The steering wheel of my battered sedan vibrated under my palms, or maybe it was just my hands shaking. I didn't stop driving until I was six blocks away, tucked into the shadows of a flickering streetlight.

Monster.

The word tasted like copper in my mouth. I had grown up around shifters. I knew the lore. I knew the politics. But seeing Adrian Blackwood shift-even partially-was like watching a thunderstorm take human shape. It wasn't just the claws or the way his jaw had lengthened into something meant for crushing bone; it was the aura. The sheer, suffocating weight of his power had made the very oxygen in the garage feel heavy.

And he had looked at me. Not as an assistant. Not as a nuisance.

He had looked at me like I was the only thing left in a burning world.

I reached into my glove box and pulled out a small, silver locket. I didn't open it. I just squeezed it until the metal bit into my palm.

"Hide the spark, Lena," my mother's voice whispered in the back of my mind, a ghost from a decade ago. "If they see it, they will cage you. If they can't use you, they will break you. Be nothing. Be a shadow. Be wolfless."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold glass of the window.

I wasn't born wolfless.

That was the lie I told the world. The truth was far more complicated-and far more lethal. I was born to the Crescent Moon Pack, a lineage of high-ranking enforcers. On my thirteenth birthday, the night of my first First Shift, my parents had ushered me into the woods, expecting a silver-furred guardian to emerge.

Instead, I had screamed as white light poured from my skin-not the spirit of a wolf, but something ancient, something that didn't belong in a shifter's body. I didn't sprout fur; I channeled the moon itself. I was a Lunar Siphon-a genetic freak, a rare occurrence where the wolf spirit is absorbed by the human vessel, turning the person into a living battery of lunar energy.

To a pack, a Siphon is a weapon. A tool to be used, bred, and drained to empower the Alpha.

My father, knowing the Alpha of our old pack would turn me into a slave, had helped us flee. He had used a forbidden ritual to "hush" my energy, burying it deep beneath layers of mental scarring. He told everyone I was a "Dull"-a wolfless fluke. The shame of it had been our camouflage.

But my father was gone now, killed in a "rogue attack" that smelled suspiciously like an execution. My mother was wasting away in a specialized care facility, her mind fractured by the grief of losing her mate.

I needed this job. I needed the Blackwood fortune to pay for her treatments. But standing in that garage, watching Adrian tear those men apart, I realized I had walked straight into the one place I was never supposed to be: the sights of a True Alpha.

I finally pulled up to my cramped apartment on the edge of the Low Sector. The hallway smelled of boiled cabbage and old carpet. I locked all three deadbolts behind me and slumped against the door.

My chest ached. It was a physical tugging sensation, like a hook caught in my ribs, pulling me back toward the city center. Back toward him.

"It's just adrenaline," I whispered into the dark.

But I knew better. I had felt it the moment I walked into Blackwood Holdings. The Bond. It shouldn't be possible. A Siphon has no wolf to mate with, and a High Alpha like Adrian Blackwood required a Luna of equal power.

The Moon Goddess had a sick sense of humor. She had tied the world's most powerful predator to the one girl who was trained to be a void.

I walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Looking in the mirror, I saw the dark circles under my eyes. I looked ordinary. Plain. I wore my hair long to hide the small, crescent-shaped birthmark at the nape of my neck-the mark of the Siphon.

As long as I didn't shift, as long as I didn't channel, I was safe.

But Adrian was suspicious. He was more than suspicious-he was obsessed.

I thought about the way he'd stood over me in the garage. "She belongs to me," he had roared.

The memory made a heat bloom in my stomach that had nothing to do with fear. It was a dangerous, traitorous spark. For a second, standing in the shadows of that garage, I had wanted to reach out. I had wanted to see if his skin felt as hot as the golden light in his eyes suggested.

"He's an Alpha, Lena," I scolded my reflection. "To him, you're either a mate to be protected or a defect to be discarded. Neither ends well for you."

****

The next morning, I arrived at the office twenty minutes early. I expected to be fired. I expected security to bar the door.

Instead, the lobby was silent, the shifters working there giving me wide berths as I passed. They didn't look at me with pity anymore. They looked at me with confusion. They had smelled Adrian's scent all over me from the night before-the heavy, possessive mark of an Alpha who had claimed a territory.

I stepped into the executive elevator. When the doors opened, Marcus was waiting.

He looked tired. "He's in a mood," the Beta warned, leaning against the mahogany desk. "He spent the night hunting the rest of that rogue cell. He hasn't slept. He's... volatile."

"I just came to get my things if I'm fired, Marcus," I said, keeping my voice level.

Marcus looked at me, his eyes searching. "He's not going to fire you, Lena. He couldn't if he wanted to. The Bond is a hell of a thing, isn't it?"

I stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm wolfless. I don't have bonds."

Marcus let out a short, dry laugh. "You can tell yourself that. But his wolf has already decided. You're the only thing keeping him from leveling this city right now."

He gestured toward the double doors of the Alpha's office.

I took a breath, smoothed my skirt, and walked in.

Adrian was standing by the window, his back to me. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket today. His white shirt was rolled up at the elbows, revealing forearms corded with tension. The air in the room was thick with the scent of cedar and ozone-the smell of a coming storm.

"You came back," he said. He didn't turn around. His voice was a low, rough growl that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

"I have work to do," I replied, moving toward my desk in the corner of his office. "And you still owe me for the overtime from last night."

He turned then. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw shadowed with dark stubble. He looked raw. He looked like a man who had been fighting himself and losing.

He crossed the room in three long strides, stopping so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He reached out, his hand hovering near my neck, before he caught himself and pulled back.

"You called me a monster," he said.

"I called it like I saw it," I challenged, though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "You enjoyed it. Tearing them apart. I felt the joy in it, Adrian."

His eyes flashed gold. "I was protecting what is mine."

"I am not a thing to be owned."

"Aren't you?" He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "Then explain why my wolf won't stop howling for you. Explain why I can't breathe when you leave the room. Explain why a 'wolfless' girl smells like the heart of the moon."

My breath hitched. He was too close. The "hush" on my power felt like it was fraying at the edges. If he kept pushing, if he kept touching the invisible strings of my soul, the light would break through.

"I'm just an assistant, Mr. Blackwood," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Read my file. I'm nothing."

Adrian reached out again, and this time, he didn't stop. His thumb brushed the pulse point on my neck, right above the collar of my sweater.

The moment his skin touched mine, a shock of pure, white-hot energy jolted through me. The lights in the office flickered and died. A low hum vibrated through the floorboards.

Adrian froze. His eyes went wide as he felt it-the surge of power that shouldn't exist in a "Dull."

"Nothing?" he echoed, his voice dropping to a dangerous, predatory whisper. He pressed his thumb harder against my skin, feeling the frantic, electric beat of my heart. "You're the loudest 'nothing' I've ever met, Lena Hart."

The door burst open. Marcus stood there, looking panicked. "Alpha! The perimeter sensors-the Northern Pack is at the gates. They say we're harboring a fugitive."

Adrian didn't take his eyes off me. The corner of his mouth quirked into a dark, lethal smile.

"It seems," he said, "that I'm not the only one who noticed your 'nothingness,' Lena."