~Radek's Point Of View~
There were many things Radek Voronov hated.
He hated incompetence, for one. He hated weakness, drama, blood that spilled too easily, and dirt under his fingernails.
But most of all, he hated filth. The kind that didn't just stink of poverty or dirt but of failure. The kind that didn't belong in Lupin House… let alone on his floor where only the most powerful family of the pack could reside.
He leaned against the wall of the corridor, arms crossed over his chest, breathing through his nose like that would keep the scent of burnt ozone and blood out. The smell of death was still stubbornly in the room like smoke after a fire, though none of them had died.
No, she hadn't died.
She should've. Her neck had snapped with a sound he'd heard a thousand times in the training ring and during fights—the types that led to death. But then she twitched. Then breathed. Then looked at them like she'd never been gone.
Radek's jaw flexed.
This entire night had gone to shit the moment they caught her scent. One mate bond was a cruel twist of fate. But you see four? That was a curse. There was no other name for it.
Was the Moon Goddess punishing them for all the blood they had shed and all the pathetic low lives they had put in their place?
He didn't believe in omens, but the Elders would have something to say about this. He was certain of it. Yet, what bothered him more than her sudden return of the dead… was that he'd felt something too.
The bond – it had clawed into his spine the moment she looked up with wide brown eyes and trembled like a deer. Wren, they'd called her. That was her name. Or at least, that was what the file said.
A human. A whore. A barely legal street rat with debt lacing her body like ink.
And now… his mate? His lip curled cynically.
That girl wasn't worthy of a place in Lupin House, let alone the moonlight at the top of it. She was filth. Just like the ones on the bottom floor. The Omegas. The broken ones. The used ones.
His father had always said, "To be Alpha is to remain untouchable. No weakness. No shame and no filth."
But what if the Moon Goddess had given him all three at once?
He shoved off the wall and stalked closer to her once again.
She was sitting upright now, her bruised arms trembling like wet paper. Arlo stood stiff near the door, arms folded, already pacing with the kind of twitchy energy that screamed guilt masked as logic. Jace was talking to Dimitri in low tones.
That Jace, the one who was always the wisest, and always the golden boy. Never fails to get on Radek's nerves even though they'd literally grown up together as friends.
Radek's eyes slid back to the girl. Her hair was matted. Her lip was still split from Arlo's shove earlier. But her eyes…
They were watching him. And hell, it wasn't the kind of stare you gave when you were afraid or scared. It was a cold one. A death stare.
For a second, he felt it like ice sliding down his neck. He knew the look of fear. That wasn't it. She was studying him, like he was the one under observation. Like he was the one bleeding out on the floor.
His wolf was impressed, even if Radek wouldn't admit it.
He shifted uncomfortably and muttered, "Shock. It does weird things to people."
"Hmm?" Jace asked.
Radek waved it off. "She's staring. Probably doesn't understand the gravity of the mess she's into yet."
"Lucky she's even breathing," Arlo muttered, then added, "Unlucky for us."
Jace finally turned from the window. "One of my father's men just texted. The last apartment on the bottom floor is vacant now."
Radek raised a brow. "Vacant?"
He nodded. "Rogues got in. Killed the last occupant two nights ago. We're still sweeping for scent trails, but it's secure enough. We can keep her there."
"Lock her in the gloomy apartment, you mean?" Arlo asked dryly.
"She's not a prisoner," Dimitri said, like he wasn't the one who killed her in the first place.
Like it was better to be dead than a prisoner.
"She's not a wolf either," Arlo snapped.
Radek frowned. "She will be. Tonight."
Jace's silver eyes flicked toward the girl again. "If she survives."
She wasn't looking at them anymore. She was staring at her hands, nails digging into the skin like she didn't believe she still had flesh. Like it should be bones instead.
Radek let out a breath and approached her slowly. Her scent hit him again. It was so damn subtle and unwashed but floral underneath, like a garden planted over grave dirt.
He crouched beside her. "What's your full name?"
Her eyes moved up to his with that eerie numbness again. It took her a moment to speak.
"Wren," she rasped. "Wren Calloway."
"Wren," he repeated. It sounded like something breakable.
"You're not going to let me go, are you?" she asked, eyeing them all with contempt.
As filthy as she was, her guts amused Radek more than he cared to admit. It seemed, however, that he wasn't the only one affected as such by it. Her question had made Jace glance over his shoulder, brows furrowed.
Radek didn't answer. He just rose to his feet, not meaning to brush her arm, but his wolf demanded proximity.
"We're taking her downstairs," he said. "She'll stay there until the moon rises. We'll shift her then."
Dimitri countered. "You sure you want to do this? What if it doesn't go as planned?"
"Then it won't be our fault," Radek said sharply.
And if she lives, he thought, then we'll know what the hell she really is.
Because that girl had died. And no human… no one, came back from a snapped spine. Not without a monster buried underneath.
Hence, the question was; does she have something to hide? Was that why she, despite being a human, was mated to four powerful wolf heirs at once?