Chapter 65

ELENA

The villa looked like something out of a travel magazine—terracotta tiles, palm fronds swaying gently in the salt-heavy breeze, a glittering private pool framed by limestone and lush tropical blooms.

It sat on the very edge of the resort property, past the winding golf cart trails and through a discreet wrought-iron gate. You’d never know it was here unless you were told to find it. That fact alone should’ve made me pause.

But Aiden had been so excited, bouncing at my side with his towel slung over his shoulder and goggles already on his forehead.

Pierce stood waiting on the front steps, dressed in tailored linen like he belonged here. He smiled broadly as we approached, arms outstretched in welcome. “You came,” he said, like we were old friends. “And right on time. A perfect day for swimming.”

Aiden raced ahead. I followed more slowly, my eyes taking in the villa’s structure. It was all high walls and shaded terraces, the ocean just visible beyond the palms. Isolated. Quiet.

“I’ve set you both up by the pool,” Pierce said, gesturing grandly. “Drinks are ready, towels laid out, and my grandson will be out shortly. He’s been dying to meet Aiden.”

“Thank you,” I said carefully.

The poolside setup was picture-perfect. Cushioned lounge chairs. A low table with tall glasses of something cold and citrusy. The surface of the pool shimmered like melted sapphire in the sunlight.

Aiden wasted no time stripping off his hoodie and cannonballing into the deep end with a gleeful shout.

I sat down slowly, scanning the perimeter. The villa backed up to a cluster of trees and wild brush, but the path from the gate was wide and clean. Still, something itched at the back of my neck.

There was a wolf stationed near the outer wall. Just one. Tall, rangy. Shirtless. His posture was relaxed, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t smile.

Just watched.

“Is that your security?” I asked, nodding toward the man.

Pierce glanced over. “Ah, yes. Don’t mind him. I like to keep a few extra eyes around. You never know who might wander too close to the property. With humans and all that, you just never know.”

I pretended to nod, but my stomach tightened.

I reached for the drink beside me—bright orange with a twist of fruit on the rim—and took a small sip. Sweet. Too sweet. Like syrup laced with something metallic underneath. I grimaced and set it down, my stomach tightening.

“Mom! Watch this one!” Aiden called, kicking up water as he prepped another dive. “Ten out of ten, you’ll see!”

I gave him a thumbs up, then picked up my phone, keeping one eye on the man leaning casually against the far wall. He looked relaxed, hands in his pockets, sunglasses perched low on his nose. But something about the way he kept glancing toward the back of the property didn’t sit right with me—like he was keeping time for something I couldn’t see.

Pierce went over and talked to him for a moment, their words too low for me to hear.

I opened a new message to Mason and typed quickly.

Me: Just checking in. How are you?

Me: We’ve been invited to a private villa at the edge of the resort. Being rented to a wolf named Pierce. He says he’s from a pack called Blackwood.

Me: Ever heard of it?

Aiden surfaced with a splash, beaming, the straps on the sides of his goggles flapping and dripping water. I gave him a quick wave, then turned my gaze back to Pierce just as he reached my lounge chair.

“You look like you could use something stronger than juice,” he said with a warm chuckle, nodding toward the glass I’d barely touched. “Too sweet?”

I hesitated. “A little,” I admitted.

He smiled, the kind of polite, practiced grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Tends to be that way with tourist bars. No one ever teaches them restraint.”

I forced a small laugh. “Guess not.”

Pierce folded himself into the chair beside mine with an easy grace, like he had all the time in the world. “You and your son from back East? Moonstone territory?”

I nodded slowly. “That’s right.”

“Beautiful pack lands. Dense woods. Clean air. I passed through once, a long time ago.” His gaze flicked briefly toward Aiden, then back to me. “You’re lucky to have such a strong young heir.”

My skin prickled. “He’s not—” I stopped myself. “He’s just a kid.”

Pierce tilted his head, studying me. “Of course. Of course he is.”

My phone buzzed. I glanced down.

Mason: Blackwood? Are you sure?

I blinked.

Me: That’s what he said. Why?

No response.

Pierce leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “The villa’s stocked with everything you could need. Food, wine, silence. I imagine privacy must be hard to come by for someone like you.”

I smiled tightly. “We manage.”

He hummed, almost to himself. “Still. I thought you might appreciate a chance to rest without looking over your shoulder.”

There was something in his voice now. Something darker just beneath the surface.

“I wasn’t aware I had to,” I said.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said politely, holding up his hands. “I just… I’ve seen you in the papers.”

I nodded, backing off a little bit and watched Aiden. A moment later Pierce’s phone buzzed and he excused himself, trotting inside to answer.

I needed something to do with my hands, so I reached for the drink again and took another sip. The taste of the juice lingered on my tongue, cloying and wrong. My head had started to throb, a slow pulsing behind my eyes. I tried to stand.

And nearly didn’t make it.

The world tilted sideways. The pool shimmered too brightly. The sunlight felt loud, the noise of the water sharp and intrusive. I gripped the edge of the lounge chair.

No.

I looked back at the glass.

No.

“Aiden!” My voice came out rougher than I expected. “Come here. Right now.”

He must have heard the edge in my tone, because he immediately clambered out of the pool, water streaming off of him. “Mom?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

I crouched beside him, my knees wobbly. “Did you drink any of your juice?”

He looked over at the untouched glass. “No. I wanted to cannonball first.”

“Good. Don’t. Don’t drink it.”

He frowned. “Why?”

I swallowed hard, the taste thick in my throat. “I think we’ve been drugged.”

He looked confused. “What does that mean?” he asked.

I swallowed and found the act more and more difficult. “It means they’re not good people. And that they want something from us.”

His face went pale. “What do we do?”

I tried to stand again, managed half a step before my vision swam and I stumbled. My legs wouldn’t cooperate. The dizziness was worse now, nausea curling in my gut. The ground felt too far away.

My tongue felt larger than it should have, but I still managed a few more words, though they were starting to slur.

“Pour your drink out,” I said with difficulty. “And stay with me. Whatever happens, I want to stick me with me as long as you possibly can.”

“Mom?” Aiden’s voice was small now, panicked. He grabbed my arm. “Mom, are you okay?”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t think.

Aiden slipped into his hoodie—the one he wore when he was nervous, the one he always said made him feel braver. He clutched my hand. “We need to go,” he whispered.

I squeezed his fingers.

And then everything went black.