Leilani.

"Who are you?" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself, and just as I did, the person moved— not closer to me but further away.

He took a staggering step back, his shoulders shrinking while he did so, giving the impression that he:

One, was probably afraid of me.

Or two, he was trying to ensure that I am NOT afraid of him.

But how could I not?

How could I swallow down my panic when there was a literal stranger standing before me? A stranger who smells like filth but smells... ’Lycanny.’

I know that’s not a word but that’s the only way I can describe the weird aura coming from him and the smell.

I hissed; "Please who are you?"

The person took another step back until he was almost standing by the door and then pulled his hoodie over his head to reveal striking blue eyes and a mane of brown hair whose tips had been dyed a Valemont shade of silver.

He wasn’t familiar .

I asked; "Who are you?"

A couple of seconds passed between us before he finally lifted his head to meet my eyes and when he did, a small frown tugged at the corners of his face as he drawled; "Gerald."

"Gerald who?"

"Gerald McCarthy."

The name rang no bells. It didn’t fill me with anything so I frowned deeply, crossed my arms over my chest and asked; "...please is there anything you want me to do for you?"

"No."

"Oh,"

"I just want you to leave NYC. I want you to go as far as possible for now. You could go anywhere, be it somewhere in Antarctica or even Africa. But leave NYC."

Something about his words made me frown. Deeply. I had no idea what he was talking about or why he would say that to me, and even though it was obvious that he was trying his hardest at being gentle and unimposing, I couldn’t still shake out the feeling that he could be dangerous.

That he was dangerous.

And as if seeing through my thoughts, he added; "I was sent here to kill you."

I froze. My breath hitched and the spatula, the one I couldn’t even remember when I picked it up slipped out of my hands. "Lady Keisha knows you’re still alive. If I am unsuccessful, she will send another and another, and she won’t stop until you’re... well, until you’re dead."

My heart sank as soon as I heard those words, and something akin to panic began to claw its way up my spine, causing the back of my head to feel swell with emotions. I shook my head, my body trembling as I asked him; "Why? I didn’t directly kill her daughter so why?"

While I talked, I noticed to my irritation that I sounded airy and high pitched, mostly due to fear. The corners of my eyes burned with tears and my lips, already dry and chapped, felt like it was breaking when my tongue darted out to lick them.

"I do not think she cares about that. I hardly even think she ever cared about her daughter, Grace. I think she has gone mad and wants you to go down while she does... but I won’t allow it."

"Why?" I couldn’t help but ask, my brows cocking as I watched him closely. "Why do you want to protect me?"

A flicker of something akin to annoyance crossed his face before he sighed and turned away, his voice small but cold as he drawled; "I am not trying to save you. I am trying to save her."

I stilled and then slowly... very slowly, my eyes thinned. "Huh?"

"I am Grace’s father."

For a couple of seconds after he dropped that bombshell, my ears simply rang and I stood there wondering why the name ’Gerald’ never rang a bell in my head in the first place.

"...And I would do anything to protect the memories of my late daughter who died from natural causes, as well as protect the mental state of the woman who is the mother of the said daughter."

My throat went dry. I nodded once.

"I’ll get her out of NYC for good," he muttered, "...but I cannot guarantee your safety so I’ll leave it up to you to leave first before I do that." He finished, and with that, he turned to leave the kitchen, only to stop when he found Caelum standing not so far off.

—And as soon as their eyes met, as soon as both men became hyper aware of the presence of the other, something in the air shifted.

A cold wind suddenly gushed in and with it came tension so high and strong, it would’ve brought me to my knees if I were a lesser person. But I was not... or was I?

For real, I don’t know.

Caelum hissed; "While I do not accept the fact that you came into our house uninvited, I am glad that you are only here to warn Leilani of an incoming threat, not hurt her. So you can go."

Gerald froze, turned to cast me a look and then turned his head back to Caelum. "You sound too cocky," he said, "...and you’re nothing but a werewolf."

The disdain and sass that dripped off each word made me reel. It made my face scrunch up in annoyance and filled me with a kind of rage I didn’t even expect to feel. And I wasn’t even the one being insulted.

What is this?

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Caelum snarled, his eyes narrowing as they bored holes into Gerald’s face. "That you are one of those shitty Lycans who look down on werewolves?"

"No, it means that I am one of those Lycans who knows that you all are weak and pathetic and that you only ride on the shit called politics." He clapped back.

And at that, Caelum’s expression went from cocky to enraged. He looked like he was about to charge forward but I pinned him with a glare which had him halting in his tracks. And when Gerald saw this, he sassed; "And that’s exactly what I mean. You cannot even come at me and you’re an Alpha."

"I refuse to come at you because my Luna doesn’t want me to." Caelum responded with a mischievous triumphant smile, causing my eyebrows to shoot into my hairline.

My face stained a bright red too when the realization of what his words meant dawned on me; But I quickly shook that off and clamped my hand on Gerald’s shoulder.

I do not know why I did it. All I knew was that I was mad and that I ensured to channel all that anger into my touch as I seethed; "You will not insult him right in front of me."

He groaned and cried out in pain. "I will not!"

And that stunned me.

In shock I retracted my hand only to be more surprised when I saw the frown etched deep into his face and the way he shuddered violently like he’d just been thrown down a high cliff.

All I did was touch him.

"I thought Keisha said she injected you with the Moonveil draught?!" He suddenly hissed and I scowled.

"Yes," I snapped, "...yes, she did that and since then I haven’t heard shit from my wolf."

"Oh, you have!" He rushed out, looking more afraid now than cocky. "You have heard from your wolf... and fucking hell, the Moonveil draught did not do shit to you!" He snapped, and with that, he rushed out of the house without sparing me another glance besides the shocked expression on his face as he rushed off.

Wait, what the—