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Head tilted back. Firelight dancing across her skin.

Gone.

The image vanished before I could catch it.

I closed the file.

“Problem?” Rafe asked.

“No.”

The lie came too quickly. I opened and played the file again. Listened to the same thing three times. Nothing stayed. Because all I could see was her. And for the first time in my life…that frightened me more than the hunt.

She took my damn shirt.

The thought made my pulse hit harder.

She thought she’d gotten away with it.

Thought I didn’t notice.

But I did. I knew instantly she’d been the one in my room. Knew her scent lingering in the air. Knew her energy—the way it taunted me… just as it taunted me now. For a second I thought maybe I’d hung it in the wrong place. I ran my hand across the others. knew the feel of the fabric by instinct now. Knew the way each shirt hung and the way they felt on my body.

It was my favourite damn shirt too.

The corner of my mouth tugged.

I thought of her, holding it against her. Drawing it to her nose. Inhaling deep.

Oh, Alaric.

I swallowed hard imagining what she was doing to it. I lowered my head, unable to stop the fall even if I tried. Her fingers. Jesus her fingers. She was so careful. Dragging the tips across the scar on my cheek. And the way her lips always followed as though she could love the horror away.

She was too late to save me.

But I wasn’t too late for her.

I needed to hunt.

More than that.

I needed to destroy.

House of Ash.

Saint Clair.

They were connected and it was time I’d connected the dots on my own.

Cassian Vale.

Even the name felt dangerous.

A name everyone avoided.

A name I tried to stay clear of.

Vale wasn’t a man you wanted to stand in front of. I’d seen killers. I’d made killers. Cassian Vale was something else. He took broken Sons of the Order and turned them into machines. Men who didn’t question. Men who didn’t hesitate. Men who didn’t stop.