His expression shifted in an instant.

Emma’s gaze snapped toward the wolves, sharp and unblinking. Her hand lifted, finger locking onto one figure dressed in a black suit.

"It’s him," she said.

The he-wolf’s hand is already slipping inside his jacket, fingers closing around the grip of a gun.

A scream cuts through the air. Panic ripples outward as wolves shove and scatter.

Before the panic fully breaks, Brandon moves.

His arm closes around Emma in a single, decisive motion, pulling her tight against him as he pivots, placing his wolf squarely between hers and the threat. The shift is seamless, instinctive, his presence hardening, filling the space with quiet authority.

"Stay behind me," he says, his voice low but unyielding, carrying cleanly through the rising chaos. Mark came just in time and guided her to safety.

Other guards surge forward. They slam into the intruder before he can pull the weapon free, wrench his arm back, and force him to his knees. The gun clatters uselessly to the ground as they drag him away, his struggles swallowed by the chaos.

Emma sways slightly, her breath catching.

Something unfamiliar yet steady and undeniable rose within her.

Brandon watches her, his gaze dark with recognition.

He isn’t surprised.

"Hey..." His voice softened as he turned back to her, quieter now, the edge of command replaced with something warmer. "He’s being taken care of."

A few minutes later, calm settled over the lounge once more. A faint smile touched his lips, gentle and coaxing, easing her back from the weight pressing on her chest.

She let out a small, unsteady breath, and despite the tears still clinging to her lashes, a soft smile found her when her gaze caught movement across the hall.

Ken was down on one knee.

A diamond ring glinted beneath the lights as he held it up toward Brooklyn.

For a second, everything around Emma

disappeared, voices, music, celebration, replaced only by the sight of

Brooklyn’s trembling smile.

She nodded through tears.

And then the hall erupted.

Ken lifted her and engaged her in a long kiss. She tried to control her tears but she couldn’t. She was happy Brooklyn got the attention she truly deserved.

It was a double celebration for Brooklyn. She kept throwing occasional unbelievable glances at her diamond ring as she leaned on Ken’s chest. Everything seemed like a dream to her. She looked in Emma’s direction again, tears covered her eyes.

The sound of applause still echoed faintly behind them as they stepped out of the estate.

Night air brushed against her skin, cool, distant, almost unreal after the heat of celebration and chaos.

The black Bentley Mulsanne was already waiting outside, its polished surface reflecting the estate lights like scattered stars.

Without a word, Brandon placed a steady hand at her waist and guided her forward.

Only when the car door closed behind them did the pack finally quiet.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence as the car eased onto the road, the city lights slipping past the window in a muted blur.

Emma sat rigid beside Brandon, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her gaze unfocused as if she were still somewhere else entirely. The soft hum of the engine filled the space, but it did nothing to drown out the tension pressing between them.

Brandon didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled.

"Talk to me," he said quietly.

She shook her head at once, too fast, like the motion alone could shut it out. "I don’t... I don’t even know what to say."

Her voice wavered despite the effort to steady it. She dragged in a breath, but it caught halfway, turning uneven.

"It just..." Her hand lifted, pressing lightly against her temple. "It just comes. I don’t call it. I don’t understand it. I see things and then suddenly I’m there and it feels real, I mean. Too real."

He didn’t interrupt.

Instead, his hand moved, closing over hers where they sat clenched together, his grip firm, grounding.

"Tell me everything?" he asked.

She hesitated.

Her throat worked before any words came. "The wolf... the one with the gun." Her fingers tightened beneath his hold. "He wasn’t just some rogue. He was sent."

Brandon’s gaze shifted, sharp now, his posture subtly changing as awareness settled in.

"By who?"

Her eyes squeezed shut.

"I couldn’t see his face clearly at first," she whispered. "Everything kept snapping in and out, like I was inside it one second, then thrown back into my wolf the next."

But then it steadied for a second and I heard a voice."

Her breathing hitched again.

"Not his... somewolf else’s. Somewolf giving the order."

Brandon went still.

"And?" he pressed, softer now.

She opened her eyes, but there was something unsettled in them, something deeper than fear.

"He said... ’Don’t miss this time.’"

The words lingered in the air, heavy, dangerous.

Brandon’s jaw tightened.

"Then this wasn’t his first attempt," he muttered.

She nodded faintly, but her brows drew together as confusion crept in.

"That’s not the worst part."

His gaze snapped fully to her now.

"What do you mean?"

Her hand dropped slowly from her temple, but her fingers curled inward, as if they didn’t quite belong to her.

"I thought..." she started, her voice thinning, "I thought his target was you."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the low hum of the moving car.

Brandon didn’t flinch.

She swallowed hard.

"But it wasn’t."

Her eyes lifted to his, uncertainty and something sharper flickering beneath.

"It was me."

The air inside the car shifted instantly.

Brandon’s presence darkened, deepened, something instinctive and dangerous rising beneath the surface. His hand tightened around hers, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor.

"No wolf touches you," he said, his voice low and absolute. "Not in my pack. Not in my territory. Not while I’m breathing."

The driver’s hands stiffened slightly on the wheel, sensing the shift, but he kept his eyes forward.

Emma’s head shook faintly.

"That’s not what scares me," she whispered. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

His grip softened, thumb brushing once over her knuckles.

"Then what does?"

Her lips parted, but the answer didn’t come right away.

When it did, it was quieter. Fragile.

"I saw it before it happened."

Her voice cracked on the last word.

She pulled her hand from his then, dragging it through her hair as she turned slightly toward the window, like she needed space from her own thoughts.

"I didn’t just see it... I felt it before it happened. Like my mind stepped into it first." Her hands lifted slightly, helpless. "What does that even make me... Starlit?" she added softer, like she was testing the word on her tongue.

Brandon exhaled slowly.

Then he shifted closer, closing the distance she’d tried to create, his arm sliding around her shoulders, drawing her firmly against him despite the tension in her wolf.

"It makes you exactly what you were meant to be."

She stiffened.

"That doesn’t help," she muttered against his chest.

"This isn’t just instinct," Brandon said quietly. "It’s... something more."

Emma pulled back just enough to look at him, doubt written plainly across her face.

"Something more?" Her brows knit. "That doesn’t sound comforting."

"It won’t," he replied. "Not at first."

His thumb brushed lightly beneath her eye, catching the trace of moisture there.

"It feels like chaos before it becomes control."

Her gaze searched his.

"And if I can’t control it?"

His expression didn’t change.

"You will."

The certainty in his voice settled into the space between them, steady and unyielding.

He reached for her hands again, gently turning them until her palms lay open in his.

"Next time it comes," he said, quieter now, deliberate, "don’t fight it."

She frowned slightly.

"That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do."

"I know," he said. "And that’s why it’s overwhelming you."

His fingers tightened gently around hers.

"You’re resisting it instead of anchoring yourself through it."

Emma’s brows knit together.

"I don’t understand this," she whispered.

"You don’t need to yet," he said quietly, tightening his hold on her hand. "Just stay with me when it comes."

"It feels like it’s taking over," she admitted.

His gaze softened. "It’s not taking over. It’s just unfamiliar. It becomes controlled once you stop resisting it."

A silence stretched between them as the car turned, light shifting briefly across their faces.

"When it hits," he said, pulling her hand to his chest, "feel this first. My heartbeat. My voice. That bond—you anchor into it. Anything that keeps you from getting pulled too far in."

Her lips parted slightly.

"The bond..." she repeated.

He nodded once.

"I’ll be there."

Something in her chest eased at that. Just a fraction, but enough to breathe.

Then it hit her again,stronger this time, crashing through her control.

Her wolf tensed as she fought it, breath hitching, fingers clutching his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Moonheart... don’t fight it," Brandon murmured, pulling her closer, his voice steady against the storm rising inside her.

Her head shook weakly, eyes unfocused as the vision dragged her deeper.

"His face... it’s covered," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can’t see him clearly—"

Her words cut off.

Her grip on Brandon tightened suddenly.

Then her eyes widened.

"...the mask won’t come off."