Xanthe adjusted the cuff of her blouse as she sat in Lynam's office. She hated waiting for him in this sterile, gray space, especially when the air reeked of his ex's perfume. Michelle had been there earlier—her lipstick-stained coffee cup was proof. The memory of the woman's smug smile gnawed at Xanthe. Michelle's words echoed in her mind, mocking and cruel.
"Do you really think someone like you can keep Lynam? You're just a fleeting distraction, Xanthe. He'll see that soon enough."
Xanthe shook her head, trying to banish the doubt. Lynam had been distant since their return to the human realm, consumed by work and his family's demands. She felt like an outsider in his world, as if she didn't belong. Maybe Michelle was right.
The door opened, and Lynam strode in, his tie slightly loosened, his expression weary. "Sorry I'm late," he muttered, setting down his briefcase.
Xanthe stood, crossing her arms. "Long meeting?"
He glanced at her, sensing the edge in her tone. "Yes. Why?"
"Michelle was here." The words came out sharper than she intended.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was business, Xanthe. Nothing more."
"Business that required her leaving lipstick on your coffee cup?" she shot back, her voice rising. "She's trying to ruin us, Lynam. And you're letting her!"
"I'm not letting her do anything," he snapped, his own frustration surfacing. "Why don't you trust me?"
"Because you haven't given me a reason to," she retorted. "You keep me in the dark, you let your family treat me like I'm beneath you, and now Michelle is—"
A sudden crash from the hallway cut her off. Both of them froze, their arguments forgotten. Lynam's eyes darkened, and Xanthe felt the familiar prickle of danger. The air grew heavy, charged with an unnatural energy.
"What was that?" she whispered.
"Stay here," he ordered, already moving toward the door.
"No," she said firmly, grabbing his arm. "We face this together."
He hesitated, but the determination in her eyes left no room for argument. They stepped into the hallway, where shards of broken glass littered the floor. The overhead lights flickered, casting eerie shadows. A low growl echoed through the corridor.
"It's not human," Xanthe murmured, her senses sharpening. She felt the wolf within her stir, ready to defend.
From the shadows, a creature emerged—a twisted, sinewy beast with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp claws. It snarled, its gaze fixed on them.
"What is it doing here?" Lynam asked under his breath, stepping in front of Xanthe protectively.
"Testing us," she replied grimly. "Who sent it?"
The beast lunged, and Lynam reacted instantly, his supernatural strength propelling him forward. Xanthe followed, shifting partially into her wolf form, her claws ripping through the creature's tough hide. They moved in perfect synchrony, their bond forged in battle. Each attack was a testament to their trust, their unspoken understanding.
The fight was brutal but swift. The creature dissolved into ash, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Xanthe collapsed against the wall, her breath ragged. Lynam knelt beside her, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
She nodded, her heart still racing. "I'm fine. But Lynam… who's going to come after us next?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time since they returned to the human realm, Xanthe felt like they were truly on the same side. Whatever challenges lay ahead—be it Michelle, his family, or the supernatural—they would face them together.
But deep down, she knew this was just the beginning .