Trapped in the Den of the Wolf
Killian’s boots echoed against the marble floors as he stepped into his penthouse, the weight of the night still heavy on his shoulders. His kingdom had been attacked, bodies left mangled and heartless—a sign of something dark on the horizon. He had handled the crisis, but something about it felt unfinished, like a predator lurking in the shadows, waiting for its moment.
His muscles ached with exhaustion, but the moment he crossed the threshold of his home, his senses sharpened.
She was near.
His golden eyes flickered toward the living room, where Ramona stood, frozen in place like a cornered animal. She had been given more freedom today—allowed to walk around the penthouse instead of being locked in her room. But even with that, she was still a prisoner. And she knew it.
Her dark hair was slightly messy, falling over her shoulders, and her expression was unreadable. But her fingers—he noticed them. They twitched. She was holding something behind her back.
He stepped closer.
She took a step back.
A cruel smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Have you been waiting for me, Dove?” His voice was deep, laced with amusement, but his wolf was on edge. Something was wrong.
Ramona’s chest rose and fell in quick succession, her breathing uneven. Her fingers clenched the hidden object tighter.
“Why won’t you let me go?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it was crushing.
Killian tilted his head, watching her with unreadable eyes. “Because you belong to me now.”
Her jaw tightened. “I am not one of your possessions.”
He chuckled darkly. “Aren’t you?”
Her eyes burned with fury, but there was something else there. Desperation. Pain. The storm within her was raging, barely contained.
“Am I that important to you that you refuse to let me go?” she pressed, voice shaking. “Or do you just enjoy watching me suffer?”
Killian exhaled through his nose, his patience thinning. “You ask the wrong questions, Dove.” He stepped closer, forcing her to lift her chin to maintain eye contact. “You should be asking yourself why you were foolish enough to walk into my world in the first place.”
Ramona clenched her teeth. “I walked into your world because someone had to bring you down.”
His smirk faltered. His body went rigid.
Her words struck something inside him—an old, familiar ache.
“You killed my father,” she said, her voice like venom. “I became a reporter to expose men like you, monsters who think they can destroy lives and walk away without consequence.”
Killian’s face remained unreadable, but inside, his wolf stirred, sensing the hatred pouring off her in waves.
She was no fool. She hadn’t been captured by accident. She had wanted to get close to him.
“And what was your plan?” he asked, voice dangerously low. “Sneak into my world, gather information, and then what? Write a pretty little article about the big bad wolf?”
Ramona’s fingers twitched again.
“You destroyed my family,” she hissed, her voice breaking. “You stole my life. And now you’re keeping me here like some caged animal. Tell me, Killian—what exactly do you gain from this?”
His jaw tensed.
His wolf—his beast—was restless, pacing beneath his skin. He had taken countless lives, broken countless souls, yet something about her accusations made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t understand.
“Why won’t you just kill me?” she continued, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Why do you keep me here when you know I’ll never stop trying to escape?”
Killian inhaled sharply.
He didn’t have an answer for her.
He should have killed her already. He should have slit her throat the moment he found out who she really was. And yet…he couldn’t.
Something about her—the way she smelled, the way her presence filled the room, the way her eyes held so much fire despite being surrounded by wolves—kept him from ending her.
His wolf wanted her.
And that was dangerous.
Before he could respond, Ramona moved.
It happened fast.
Too fast.
Her arm shot forward, and a sharp pain exploded in his side.
Killian staggered, his gaze snapping downward.
A knife.
Silver.
The blade was buried deep in his abdomen, burning like molten fire against his flesh.
His vision darkened for a split second, his entire body recoiling from the foreign poison invading his veins. He gritted his teeth, golden eyes snapping up to meet hers.
Ramona’s breathing was erratic, her hands trembling as she realized what she had done. But there was no regret in her gaze. Only rage.
She yanked the knife out, and Killian let out a sharp breath, staggering back. His wolf howled inside his mind, both in fury and something else—something darker.
She stabbed us.
She tried to kill us.
And yet…
His vision swam, but his body moved on instinct, catching her wrist before she could strike again.
“Where,” he growled, his grip tightening around her arm, “did you get silver?”
Ramona struggled against his hold, teeth gritted. “Does it matter?”
His patience snapped.
Killian twisted her wrist, making her gasp in pain as the knife clattered to the floor. He pulled her flush against him, ignoring the searing agony in his side.
“You really thought you could kill me?” he rasped, his breath fanning against her ear. “With this?”
She trembled against him, but she didn’t cower. She never did.
His wolf growled lowly, torn between anger and something primal.
“You should have aimed for the heart,” he murmured.
Before she could respond, a sudden force slammed into his side, sending him crashing against the nearby wall.
Caden.
His Beta had arrived just in time, tackling Ramona before she could reach the knife again.
Killian groaned, his body heavy as the silver continued to burn through his system.
Caden pinned Ramona down, his fangs bared. “She tried to kill you!”
“Don’t,” Killian growled, forcing himself to his feet. His vision swam, but he managed to stay upright. “Don’t touch her.”
Caden’s expression twisted in disbelief. “She just stabbed you!”
Killian staggered forward, eyes locked on Ramona. She was still struggling, still fighting despite being completely overpowered.
He should be furious. He should be livid.
And yet…
All he felt was hunger.
Not for blood.
For her.
Ramona was still breathing heavily beneath Caden’s hold, her gaze locked on Killian’s wound. She had expected him to die.
She had expected to win.
“You’re a fool,” Killian murmured.
Her eyes snapped up to his. “And you’re a monster.”
A slow, dangerous smile curled his lips. “Then why are you still alive?”
Ramona’s breath hitched.
Killian turned to Caden, his voice sharp. “Let her go.”
Caden hesitated. “Killian—”
“Let. Her. Go.”
With a reluctant growl, Caden released her, stepping back.
Killian loomed over her, his golden eyes unreadable. “You want revenge?” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “Then try harder.”
Her fists clenched.
He leaned down, his lips just inches from her ear.
“You’ll never escape me, Dove.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her alone with the weight of her own failure.
His side was still bleeding.
But for the first time, he felt alive.