Page 29 of Her Bossy Wolf Protector

I’m exhausted and agitated, but I have to ensure she’s safe.

In the office, though, I keep my distance. I let the managers take point in meetings and I have my coffee and meals delivered to my office, only leaving to follow her.

One week after Jade’s return to work, I receive a call from Seraphina.

“Sorry to call you in the middle of the day. I know you are a busy man.”

I can almost feel my cheeks burn in embarrassment as I sit in my car, staring at the cup of lukewarm noodles in my lap. Today, Jade came to visit Alyssa, but she has stayed longer than usual.

“No. It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Gabriel, we have reports of a coven keeping humans as hostages. You will need to investigate.”

My jaw tightens at the mention of another coven involved in more nefarious activities. “Is it Jake’s coven?” I inquire, already bristling at the thought.

“No, this is a different coven—The Blacks.”

The Blacks, an old society that usually keeps to themselves, who reside in their mansion up on the hill. This revelation surprises me. “Are they still in their mansion outside of town?” I ask urgently.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll check it out as soon as I can. Give me about two hours. I should have an update for you by then.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting for your call.” And the line disconnects.

I hang up, tossing my half-eaten noodles into a nearby trash can. As I glance around, I spot Jade exiting the hospital. A brief moment of hesitation, and then I decide to follow her. She gets into an Uber, and I discreetly tail her until she re-enters the Night Corp building. Satisfied that she’s headed in the right direction, I pivot and make my way to The Blacks’ mansion.

The mansion stands as a grand testament to both wealth and secrecy. Ivy-clad walls conceal the opulence within, and the wrought-iron gates creak open as I approach. The driveway leads me through meticulously landscaped gardens, reinforcing the air of old-world elegance that surrounds the place.

A butler greets me at the entrance. His white button-down shirt is stained with the blood seeping from his neck. “Mr. Black will see you in his office,” he announces, leading me through the lavish halls.

The opulence within matches the impression of the edifice from the outside—an extravagant display of wealth adorned with intricate tapestries, antique furniture, and glistening chandeliers. The air is heavy with the scent of aged wood and the distant hint of something more sinister.

We reach Mr. Black’s office, a room that echoes with the whispers of centuries-old secrets. He rises from behind a mahogany desk, a distinguished older Italian gentleman with a gaze portraying wisdom and veiled intentions.

“Gabriel Night,the Protector,” he greets me with a nod, pouring a generous amount of whisky into crystal glasses. “To what do I owe the pleasure? A visit from the Protector must be something of an occasion,” he says, offering me a seat.

I settle into the plush chair, my eyes scanning the room. The walls are adorned with the Blacks’ ancestral portraits. The eyes seem to follow my every move.

“To the safety of the city,” I reply, lifting the glass in a silent toast before taking a sip of the whisky. The rich, smoky flavor lingers on my tongue.

Mr. Black leans back in his chair, studying me shrewdly. “Ah, the delicate balance between our kind and humans. What brings you here, Gabriel? I assure you, we are merely maintaining our way of life.”

I meet his gaze with a measured intensity. “Reports suggest otherwise. Hostages, Mr. Black. That’s a line that cannot be crossed.”

He chuckles, a sound that echoes through the room. “Protector, you see, our kind has evolved to survive in this world. The old ways may not align with your modern sensibilities, but we adapt only as much as we must, to survive.”

I narrow my eyes. “Your adaptations do not seem adequate. I cannot justify you harming innocent humans. We have treaties in place for a reason.”

He swirls the whisky in his glass, his gaze never leaving mine. “Treaties forged in a different era. Times change, Gabriel. We must ensure our survival, even if it means challenging the norms of the past. Plus, we are only getting ready for the return.”

“The return? The return of what?”

He takes a sip of his drink. “Gabriel, my old friend,” he drawls, “we’re merely preparing for the inevitable. You know of the prophecy, yes?”

I narrow my eyes, my patience waning. “Explain, please.”

Mr. Black leans back in his chair, a cocky grin playing on his lips. “Haven’t you heard, my dear Protector?”

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