Shadows Before the Blood Moon

The penthouse was unnaturally quiet, the kind of silence that settles before a storm.

Caden stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes tracking the city lights below. Behind him, the weight of tension grew thicker by the second.

“You’re going to lose your mind over her,” he said finally, his voice low, almost warning.

Killian didn’t look up from the leather-bound journal on his desk. “You say that like I haven’t already.”

Caden turned. “I’m not joking.”

Neither was Killian. His hand paused mid-sentence, his jaw clenched tight.

“You’re torturing her, tying her up, questioning her, nearly breaking her—and you’re still not getting answers. Why?” Caden stepped forward. “Because deep down, you don’t want to break her. You want her to break you.”

Killian closed the journal with a heavy thud.

“You don’t understand.”