The air between them was suddenly filled with tension. Killian didn't loosen his grip on Faith's shoulders, but his fingers twitched. He looked around the Academy gates, noting the lingering students and the security cameras.
"Get in the car, Faith," he said, his voice dropping into that low, command-tone that usually brokered no argument.
No!"Not until you tell me why Silas thinks you're hiding my mother's life from me," Faith challenged.
Killian's jaw tightened. Not with anger but the fact that he felt cornered. "This isn't the place. Get in."
The ride back to the Nightshade manor was suffocating. Killian stared out the window, his hand gripping the armrest so hard the leather groaned. Faith sat as far away as possible, the crumpled note from Silas still clutched in her hand.
When they finally reached his private study, Killian locked the door. He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and pressed a hidden lever. A section of the wall slid back to reveal a high-security safe.
He typed in a code, pulled out a small, leather-bound book with frayed edges, and set it on the mahogany desk. It looked old, smelling like musty earth.
"I never had it until three days ago Faith," Killian said, his voice worn out. "I found it When I ran that deep background check on you, I realized the 'Dud' story your aunt told the neighborhood was a lie. Your parents weren't just nobody laborers."
Faith stepped closer, her breath hitching as she saw her mother's elegant, loopy handwriting on the cover: For my Little Bird.
"Where did you get this?"
"I sent my Delta to the Southern Trench to sweep your aunt's house for any records they might have missed," Killian explained, his eyes fixed on her. "They found a hidden compartment under the floorboards in the basement where you slept. But they weren't the only ones there. Silas's men had already broken in. They were looking for this."
"Silas? Why would an Alpha from the North want a journal from a woman in the trenches?"
"Because your mother wasn't from the trenches, Faith,"Killian stepped toward her, his expression unusually soft. "My father's old records mention a scholar—a woman who was the leading expert in Ancient Wolf Architecture. She disappeared twenty years ago after a falling out with the High Council. Her name was Elena, and she was married to a man named Thomas."
Faith gasped. "Those are my parents' names."
"They weren't Duds," Killian said firmly. "They were shifters who chose to live as humans to protect what they discovered. And Silas….he's been hunting for their research for two decades. That's why he paid your aunt to sell you. He didn't want you dead; he wanted you in a place where he could 'rescue' you and trade your life for the location of your mother's final blueprints."
Faith touched the leather cover. "And you? Did you take this to 'protect' me, or because you want the blueprints too?"
Killian paused. He didn't lie. At first? It was business. A way to stay ahead of Silas. But then…. I saw you."
He reached out, his thumb grazing her jawline. "I saw the way you fixed my servers. I saw the way you looked at the world. You aren't just an 'investment' anymore, Faith. You're a liability I can't seem to put down."
The moment was shattered by a sharp knock on the door.
"Boss," Marcus sounded urgent. "We have a problem. The Academy just sent an emergency alert. Someone leaked Faith's 'Dud' status to the local tabloids. They're calling her a 'Spy in the Alpha's Bed.' The Council is demanding a hearing."
Killian's eyes flashed a lethal gold. He turned back to the safe, grabbing a small, silver velvet box he hadn't shown her.
"I didn't expect them to move this fast," Killian muttered. "They are trying to force you out of my protection so Silas can snatch you."
He opened the box. Inside was a stunning, intricate ring—white gold, shaped like a wolf's claw clutching a sapphire.
"What is that?" Faith asked, stepping back.
"It's a Nightshade crest," Killian said, grabbing her hand. He didn't ask. He slipped the ring onto her finger. It felt strangely warm, as if it were vibrating against her skin. "As of this moment, you aren't just my ward. You are my Official Consort. The Council can't touch a Consort without declaring war on the entire Blackwood Pack."
Faith stared at the ring. Consort? Killian, that's... that's like a public engagement! People will think.…
"Let them think whatever", Killian growled, pulling her close until her chest pressed against his suit. His scent—rain and sandalwood—was all over her. "This is the only way to keep you inside the manor. And tomorrow, we go to the Council Gala. You'll wear the diamonds, you'll stay on my arm, and you won't speak to Silas. Am I clear?"
As Killian left the room to handle Marcus, Faith opened the journal to the very last page. A loose photograph fell out. It was a picture of her mother, smiling….and standing right next to her, looking younger but just as cold, was Killian's father.
Underneath the photo was a single, terrifying sentence in her mother's hand: "Don't trust the Nightshades. They are the ones who built the cage."