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Killian lets out a slow, approving exhale, leaning his hip against the edge of the mahogany desk. “Good. I doubt he’ll be able to get through our magic. I’m sure both you and your hound will have fun tormenting the guy, but Vesper… you’ve changed. A month ago, you would’ve killed the man by now without ever showing your face. Now, you’re delaying. Toying with your food and further corrupting that tainted soul.”

“Bellamy and I struck a deal at the crossroads. He wanted my protection. He asked me to kill Gregory, but the Devil Dog and I both knew he wasn’t ready to carry that weight yet. He wanted an escape, but he didn’t truly want him dead. Now, he does.”

“Look at you.” Killian chuckles. “All for your pretty new pet.”

I slam my fist against the desk. “He’s not a fucking possession, Killian. He’s my mate.”

“Yes, yes. You’ve told me.” Killian tilts his head, a knowing smirk touching his lips. “I just never expected you to give your true self to anyone. He spent hours in your library today. He knows your bloodline, your magic, your past. Hell, you’ve even let him see your shadow staff. You’re letting him past the iron gates of your mind, Vesper. If he can’t handle it—”

Before Killian can finish the warning, the oak doors to the study creak open.

A sudden, sharp spike of surprise flashes through the bond, echoing straight from Bellamy’s chest.

I look up.

Bellamy stands in the doorway, holding a thick, leather-bound volume of ancient demon lore against his chest. He wears the deep forest-green knit sweater I like, his posture hesitant as he realizes he has stumbled into something private. His eyes dart from the photos on my desk to Killian standing by the shelves, and finally lock onto my crimson gaze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Bellamy stammers softly, taking a step backward, his fingers tightening against the spine of the book. “I can come back later. I was just—”

In all reality, I should dismiss him. My first instinct says to shield him from the ugly realities of what Gregory is up to just outside my gates. But I don’t want that, and more importantly, neither does Bellamy. His whole life, everyone has kept him in the dark, and he expects it from me now. The anger and hurt linger in our bond as he braces himself. The powerful, conscious decision settles in my chest.

No secrets, the Devil Dog rumbles through our link, completely aligned with my sudden impulse. He is family. Ours. Let him see.

“Stay, Bellamy,” I command, my voice smooth, steady, leaving no room for argument.

Bellamy freezes, his green eyes widening with shock at my invitation. Through the bond, I feel a dizzying rush of validation and disbelief wash through him. He steps fully into the study, the doors clicking shut behind him.

Killian turns his head, raising a single eyebrow in genuine astonishment at my choice to include the human in this conversation.

“Come closer,” I say, standing up from my desk and gesturing to the empty leather chair beside mine.

Bellamy walks across the room, moving with cautious grace, and sets his book down on the edge of the desk before taking a seat. He looks between Killian and me, his chin lifting with that familiar, brave edge that never fails to captivate me.

“You’re discussing the search parties,” Bellamy says quietly, his eyes scanning the reports and photos. “Aren’t you?”

“We are,” I reply, leaning back against the edge of the desk, towering over him just enough to make him feel protected without feeling caged. I glance at Killian, issuing a silent directive with a flick of my eyes. “Killian. Catch him up.”

Killian blinks, a rare moment of genuine surprise breaking his cool, amused façade. He looks from me to Bellamy, clearing his throat before speaking.

“Right, then,” Killian says smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your former partner, Mr. Gregory Jones, has managed to get his hands on a magical artifact that can supposedly break through wards. His security detail isn’t just looking for a runaway human anymore, Bellamy. They’re interested in the creature protecting you. They intend to breach the lower ward in a week. He’s just waiting on the last part of the artifact.”

Bellamy goes completely still.

The color drains from his face for a fraction of a second, his fingers gripping the armrests of the chair. The old trauma and fear of being hunted, of being dragged back into Gregory’s suffocating grip flash across his features. The panic threatens to take root. Without hesitation, I reach out, placing my large, pale blue hand firmly over his trembling fingers on the armrest.

My skin is hot compared to his. The magical mark on the side of his neck flares with a steady pulse.

Bellamy draws in a sharp breath. He looks up at me, his green eyes wide and shining in the fire. Instead of shrinking away, his jaw tightens with resolve. He trusts me. He pushes the emotions through the link. I’m not hiding this from him. I’m making him my equal. I’m trusting him.

“They won’t get past the wards,” Bellamy replies. He turns his gaze to Killian, then back to me. “And I’m not hiding from that piece of shit while you fight them. Tell me what I need to do.”

A dark swell of pride surges through me, vibrating straight through the bond into the heart of our beast. The Devil Dog growls in satisfaction.

Killian lets out a low whistle, a slow, approving grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, Vesper. I must admit… your little human reminds me of a true demon warrior.”

“He’s not a little human,” I say softly, keeping my eyes locked on Bellamy, my thumb stroking the back of his hand with quiet devotion. “He is my mate. And this is his home, too. He has every right to know.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “My mate this, my mate that. I get it.” He chuckles, clapping me on the shoulder. “You are truly lucky, my friend.”