Luna knew when Nekros had crossed the border between their territories the moment it happened. He was three days later than he promised. Thirty years ago, she wouldn't have noticed or even cared. Hell, two months ago, she wouldn't have been bothered.

Not now. Now it was another barrel of gasoline to the fire.

Somehow, she managed to keep herself calm enough not to punch him in the face when he arrived at the gates of the Paris compound. At least he was alone.

"Uh oh," he smirked, raising an eyebrow down at his much shorter sister. "I know that look. What did I do?"

"If I had until the inevitable heat death of the universe, I still wouldn't have enough time to list them all," she scowled. "Where's Phoenix? I can only assume she's the reason you're late."

He froze in his tracks and suddenly looked uncomfortable, raising a hand to rub the scar at his neck and looking away.

"Woah," Luna's anger fell away instantly. "That's not the reaction I was expecting. What happened? Are you alright?"

"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?" he asked, his eyes sweeping across the main street of the compound at the dragonkin going about their daily lives.

Luna nodded and led him down a side street to a small house isolated from the rest of the compound by several yards of pristine lawn.

"I don't think I've ever been here," he mused, looking up at the modest building.

"You have. I've just rebuilt and remodeled it while you were away."

She winced at her own words. Away made it sound like he had any choice in being locked underground for the better part of three decades.

Bypassing the front door, she took Nekros around to the covered veranda and outdoor kitchen that looked over the fields beyond the city limits of Paris. "Talk to me, brother," she urged gently, opening the fridge and pulling out a drink for them both. "What's going on with Phoenix?"

"We're just going through a rough patch. We... we've been fighting for over a week now. That's why I'm late. She's taken off to revisit her territories, and I came here so we can cool off for a bit."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing," he shook his head after hesitating.

"Nekros. It's me you're talking to. The privacy barrier starts at the edge of the lawn, and the kin know to leave us be. No one's going to overhear."

Nekros didn't answer, nor did he look at her for a while. But the sadness and the anxiety were creeping into his eyes, and his hand started to tremble as he rubbed the scar even harder. "We haven't been intimate since she returned. She wants to be. I want to be. But I just... can't." And with that, the dam broke and the rest came flooding out. "I hate being touched. It doesn't matter if I'm in my true form or human shape. Sometimes it's fine, but sometimes the lightest touch feels like thorns caught under my skin and it takes days to get them out.

"It's not just Phoenix, but it's worse with Phoenix. Especially at night. I can't share a bed with her in the house or a nest in the caves. I can't even lay beside her long enough for her to fall asleep. She wants us to be mates in all the ways we used to be, and I can't do that for her."

"Nekros," Luna gaped at him. "You're traumatized. She can't be angry with you for that."

"She's not angry. She's frustrated."

"She's being shitty. Frustrated people ride it out on the showerhead and then come back to find a better solution once all the blood comes back to their heads."

"She has every right to feel the way she does, Luna. You know Phoenix. If anyone was going to come out of one of those hellholes unphased, it was going to be her. I can't blame her for wanting everything to go back to normal now that she's free."

"But I can blame her for even thinking that everything could go back to normal! You've changed! The world has changed. Nothing is the same or ever will be again! We've been through this over and over and over and over again, and every time we start crossing into a new era, Phoenix throws a nuclear-sized tantrum until you cater to her demands enough to get her through it. And, you know what, that's been working out for you two for the last five billion years, so I've been keeping my mouth shut. But now others are getting caught in the blast."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have a daughter, you fucking moron!"

"Phoenix wants to be a part of Rhiannon's life! It's not her fault that Rhiannon refuses to even try!"

"Do you even hear yourself?! Don't you remember the whole new asshole you ripped into me when I tried pushing her to meet us before she was ready?! She refused to see you for an entire month after we got you out! It took me two months to get her to say a fucking word to me. You gave us this big ol' speech back in Egypt about respecting her boundaries and space, but you're the one driving her away from us!"

"I'm not going to tell Phoenix to stop fighting for us to be a family! It's all we've ever wanted!"

"We?! Where was this 'we' when you had your elites stand guard day and night over the hatchery? Where was this 'we' when she was trying to convince you to give the egg to Tiamat? Where was this 'we' when you were asking me if you made the right choice?!"

"She made a mistake! We're not perfect. It happens, and she has been trying to fix it since we broke her out!"

"Oh really? Which means she just jumped at the chance to help out in Nepal, then, right?"

"For the love of the gods, what did Rhiannon tell you? Phoenix was just worried about her and for damn good reason!"

"Rhia hasn't said a goddamn thing to me about whatever the fuck is going on between the three of you. And after I finally tracked down Dyran and got the whole damn story, I don't blame her one bit!"

"What do you mean 'tracked down'?"

"When was the last time you looked at your phone?" Luna glared up at her brother, unable to hide her disgust any longer. "Or talked to one of your elites? Or talked to anyone without Phoenix interfering?"

"I... it's been quiet..."

"No, it hasn't. Dyran is gone, Nekros. He and his whole family broke their bonds after Rhia left for Nepal. The kin, your kin, have been scrambling to keep themselves together in his absence and your silence. They couldn't even get through to tell you that Rhia had gotten hurt."

"Hurt?" he asked breathlessly. "What... what happened? Is she alright?"

"No, dumbass, and it's your fucking fault." Luna opened the file she'd been carrying to the photos taken of Rhia's injuries, starting with the ones taken immediately after she arrived at the Counsel facility in New Delhi. There was so much blood and mangled flesh that it was hard to tell that it was supposed to be a limb. 

"Why the fuck didn't you tell any of us that the Organization were raising hellhounds?"

Nekros stared at the pictures, his eyes widening in horror and the blood drained from his face. Finally, finally, he seemed to understand why Luna was so pissed.

"She spent two weeks in a Counsel hospital before I got there," she hissed. "The fucking Counsel took better care of her than we did. And because of the restrictions we place through the bond, none of our kin could be there either."

"She... she was alone?"

"Oh no, Nekros. The unbound were with her the whole time. They were the ones who saved her, they were the ones who managed her treatment, and they are the only ones she will even talk to now. She's careful not to speak around me or my kin, and she doesn't even risk linking while in the compound incase a conduit intercepts. The gods only know what kind of trouble she's going to get herself into with their influence."

"I need to see her," Nekros shoved the file away from him. "Where is she?"

"Physiotherapy. She'll be there for another twenty minutes, so you have that long to figure out exactly what you're going to say, because 'sorry' isn't going to cut it."

As if on cue, the phone in Luna's pocket started ringing and she dug it out to answer. Nekros took a moment to take a deep, shuddering breath and to look at the photos again. Luna was right. He should have been there. But Rhia was alive. That had to count for something... right?

"Quoi?" Luna said sharply, drawing his attention back. "Et Mithras? Est-il venu?... What do you mean he's gone? What about the other... Well, fucking find them! I want everyone available in the sky looking for them!"

"What happened?" Nekros asked as Luna ended the call.

"Rhia never showed up for her appointment. The unbound are missing too. Whatever she's been planning with them is happening now."

~

Parisian winters were cold and wet, and the thick clouds that spread over the city were usually dense enough that night stalkers could walk the streets during the day without worry. But snow itself was uncommon, which made this December evening feel particularly cold and unwelcoming. The only upside was that when it did snow, it was usually melted and gone before noon. The first year Aarón had spent in the French capital, it hadn't snowed at all, and he was fine with that. He wasn't a fan.

The first time he and the rest of the spearhead werewolves had seen snow, they'd been uniting the packs in the Colorado mountains. Three feet of white, fluffy snow was an incredible and wonderous sight... for about an hour. By the time they made it to Canada, he was thoroughly sick of it, and then made the mistake of spending the entire winter in Nunavut. The oppressive cold and long nights were enough to put anyone in a permanently bad mood.

Except Evelyn, may she rest in eternal peace with their ancestors. She had loved the great northern tundra. One time when they were alone, she had admitted that it made her feel closer to the dragon who saved Eve and was arguably the creator of the werewolves. Luna. Aarón wished he hadn't been so dismissive of his sister's feelings. Evelyn had been young, and the elders called her naïve and idealistic... but she had been the only blood family he had left.

Aarón longed for the tropics of his home, deep within Columbia's rainforest. Where the displeasure of the gods was obvious in the intense storms and floods. The gods of the north were far more subtle and effective at killing. Werewolves tore through their clothing during their shifts, unlike most shapeshifters. Waking up naked and lost in the jungle was embarrassing and annoying, but not likely to kill you. But if you got lost in the arctic, you'd be lucky to wake up at all.

He knew that when he left his village that he was unlikely to return for a very long time. There were werewolf packs all over the world, and the ones in Europe in particular would take years to disassemble the toxic alpha-beta-omega political structure. Maybe next spring year he could go back just to visit. He could take Evelyn's ashes back and lay her to rest with their parents. And then he could finally stand before the elders and the rest of the pack and present his queen.

Speaking of which...

Aarón stopped and took several steps backwards until he was looking out the glass doors again. Standing in the courtyard of their home was his mate, smiling up at the light powdering of snow descending from the dark clouds above. She was beautiful, and the world around her was calm. She looked like something out of a post-card... except that she was wearing a loose T-shirt that revealed more skin than it covered. Not a jacket, a hat, or even a pair of gloves in sight.

Though he loathed to leave the warmth of the house, Aarón was undeniably drawn to the woman who held his heart. More than his heart. His very soul. She was his soulmate, and it was written into the very foundation of the magic that he go to her and protect her from the oppressive cold. So, he left his tablet on a nearby table and stepped outside.

Danika's head turned when she heard the sliding door and smiled brilliantly. "Mon loup," she greeted him, and held out a hand. "Come to join me?"

He was powerless against her. He ignored her hand, however, in favor of wrapping his arms around her slender waist and tugging her up against his chest. "Mi reina," he said in a low, scolding tone. "What are you doing out here dressed like this? It's freezing. Where is your coat?"

"It's not that cold," she rolled her eyes. "It's only like, minus five*."

"That is the definition of freezing. Come. Let's go back inside and get you warmed up."

"Just a few more minutes, please? It reminds me of home."

It was an utterly unreasonable request that could only come from the mouth of a Canadian. Yet... damnit, again, he simply could not refuse her. Seeing his defeat brightened Danika's smile, and she turned to lean her back against his chest. Her eyes returned to the sky, but Aarón couldn't tear his eyes away from her. A part of him still couldn't believe how beautiful she was, no matter what she did to her appearance.

Danika had been in a constant state of experimentation over the last few months. She was keeping her hair short, but recently opted to shave off one side while letting the other side grow down to the ridge of her cheekbone. She had also dyed it a mix of purple and blue the week before. There were days, like today, when she wore minimal makeup just to highlight her features, and other times that she came out of the bathroom looking like a colorful raccoon.

He loved it all, and he was proud that she felt safe around him to explore herself. He was getting the impression that running away at eighteen hadn't been enough for her to fully escape the confines of her strict catholic upbringing. She finally broke free when she killed her father and reverted back to being human.

Aarón swept his thumb lightly across the mating mark at the back of her shoulder and neck, growling in satisfaction when she shivered. The crescent moon was nearly invisible now, but it grew darker the closer they came to the full moon.

He couldn't believe it hadn't even been a year since he'd claimed her. She fit so well into his life that he couldn't imagine what it had been like without her. Thanks to their soulmate bond, he would never have to find out again. Despite being human once again, the magic that joined them would extend her life to match his.

It meant they had time. Time together. Time to find out if she could safely be turned. Time to decide if she even wanted that. Danika loved being human, and he knew she never would have turned into a vampire if she thought there was any other choice. The moment he'd given her his mark, he swore to always give her a choice. She deserved-

"I'm pregnant."

Aarón blinked. Whatever he'd been thinking about before was gone replaced by that one word.

Danika looked up and over her shoulder at him, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. "Aarón? Did you hear-"

He cut her off by swooping down and catching her mouth in a hard kiss, lifted her off her feet and spun her around. Hearing her delighted laugh set his heart on fire. "Ti amo, mi reina," he said once he set her back down on her feet. "This is amazing! When did you find out?"

"The doctor confirmed it yesterday," she said with a broad smile on her face. "We'll have our own little bundle of chaos next summer."

"Nothing we can't handle together, and nothing the pack hasn't seen before. They're going to celebrate all winter when they hear the news!"

"Aarón, hold on," Danika pulled him back. "I don't want to tell too many people yet. It's early. I'm only five or six weeks along, and the doctors have already labeled it a high-risk pregnancy."

With that piece of news, Aarón was suddenly reminded of the harsh winter swirling around them. Without wasting any more time, he scooped her back up in his arms and practically ran for the doors.

"Oh, come on!" she whined, but didn't try to fight him. "That's not what I meant!"

"I'm not taking that chance," he argued, not stopping until he was sitting in the big armchair in the living room next to the electric fireplace with Danika in his lap and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. "Why are they calling it high risk so early?"

"A few reasons," she shrugged and curled into him. She wasn't cold, but she also couldn't deny how good it felt to be cuddled up to the man. "For one, even though they've always been able to reproduce together, there really aren't a lot of documented cases of human women carrying werewolf babies. The ones that my doctor does know about weren't exactly promising, but he also said that he's not an expert. He's referred me to see a specialist in ancient-human obstetrics. I should have an appointment in the next few weeks."

"I'm coming with you," Aarón insisted, leaving absolutely no room for argument. "And I'll call the elders tonight. Our records are better kept and much more accurate. What else?"

"Well, there's the whole born a human, turned into vampire, turned back into a human, and rapidly aging two years thing. They have no idea what that's already done to my body or what it could possibly mean for the baby. I know the Counsel is doing their research, but they're not releasing any information about it."

She tilted her head to give him a meaningful look, and he sighed. "My reach in the Counsel is limited. I can ask, but don't expect much."

"Why don't you ask the shifter who's been helping you? Or... maybe the new vampire queen?"

Aarón stiffened and Danika winced. "The new queen is not our ally," he said coolly. "The more I work with her, the more dangerous she becomes. She is not as ruthless as either Constantine or her grandfather, but she has the cunning of both combined. Bastian may be the prodigy of the Wes family, but Valentina is not far behind, and she has the motivation where her uncle does not. She is the last person I want knowing that you were once a vampire. Especially now..."

He rested a hand on her flat stomach. Cyrille had been able to feel Persephone through his bond with Kate from the moment they learned of her pregnancy. He would give anything in the world to know what that was like, even if it was just to sooth his own building anxieties. A high-risk pregnancy went both ways, after all. Dangerous for mother and babe alike.

"There's..." Danika said quietly. "Something else we need to talk about."

"Whatever it is, it can wait. Just because you don't want to tell anyone yet doesn't mean we can't celebrate."

"Aarón, this is important. It's something I should have told you a long time ago."

"It's waited this long. It can go one more night. Now, I want you to get your pretty ass upstairs and dressed in something nice so I can take you out."

Danika's eyes lit up, and she scrambled off his lap to run for the stairs. Aarón had to quell his very instincts not to chase her down and ravage her wherever he caught her. She would enjoy it. She liked it when he chased her, and even without her vampiric powers, she was surprisingly fast and agile. But if he did, they would spend the whole night in bed, and she needed to get out of the house and out of the central area of lycanthrope territory.

That was one place where Aarón knew he was lacking as a mate. He needed to put in an effort to take her out more, which was more complicated than it sounded. Danika Schell was wanted for questioning by the Counsel for her connection to the Organization, but because she was a human-turned vampire-turned-human again, there was an ongoing debate whether they even had any authority over her. The human governments did not care about that, and just labeled her as a person of interest on an international level regarding three separate cases in both Canada and France.

In the days following Constantine's death and the Great Tragedy, the spearhead pack scrambled to build her a new identity. Rose had done an incredible job in such a short time. But even with a new identity and the regular changes she was making to her appearance, there was still a chance someone might recognize her. So, she rarely left the house except to visit the other women in the pack, and the few times she did leave the neighborhood, it was always to visit Kate and Persephone in the demonic realm in the catacombs. Danika put on a good show, but Aarón knew she was going stir-crazy.

But no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. The enemy, in this case, being Carmen, the woman who had unofficially become his new second in command after giving birth to the twins she was carrying as a surrogate. He groaned internally the second he heard her running up the steps. She only banged on the door twice before letting herself in and skidding to a halt at the doorway to the living room. "Aarón!" she gasped. "There's-"

"No" he interrupted her quickly, getting up from the chair. "Not tonight. I'm taking Danika out and we'll be gone all night."

"But-"

"No buts," he took her shoulders and firmly redirected her back towards the door. "Put it on hold, reschedule it, I don't care, it's not happening."

"This can't-"

"Yes, it can, and yes, it will."

"Dios mio, would you listen to me?!"

"I am, Carmen. You have been telling me for weeks that I have been neglecting my queen. One night isn't going to-"

"King Guerrero?"

The stranger spoke the moment he stepped out on the landing. Though he didn't recognize the voice, it sent chills rippling down his spine. He hadn't sensed anyone following Carmen. Not a scent, not a sound, not even a magical signature or aura. They were a ghost. When he looked up the street to where it had come from, his stomach dropped to his shoes.

The elite guard of the spearhead pack had their sidearms out and aimed at a woman with fire-red hair and piercing green eyes with slit pupils. He'd never met her, but he knew exactly who she was.

"My name is Rhia Kincaid. It's time we talked."

~