My eyes flutter as the immense heat surrounds me. I hear someone speaking though it sounds distant, muffled somehow. Why am I so hot? I roll, pushing away the weight of what I imagine is my warlord lying on me. 

"Baby, you're crushing me," I grumbled, pushing back against the hard body that threatened to snuff me out. I'm sweltering, my body feels as though it might erupt into flames. Shooting my eyes open, the room is a strange red tint as our surroundings crackle and pop, the ceiling covered in inky black smoke as I realize the heat I'm feeling is the burning of our home. 

I cough and sputter before a hand lands over my mouth, the black figure looms over top of me, the entirety of the person's face covered with black lycra. I'm pinned beneath the man's body, thrashing, I buck and kick against the overbearing weight as the second hand wraps around my throat. 

My eyes search wildly, and with everything in me, I jut the palm of my hand into the man's nose and swing my leg to firmly knee him in the groin. The man cries out, clutching his damaged genitals as I scramble off the bed. 

The ceiling shudders and crackles, fire flickering in the raised rafters. 

Verando lay bound on his side, blood staining the side of his face, I jump for him as I'm grasped once more and pinned against the bed. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to forget your boyfriend." The rough voice is altered, electronic, I think of my training as I grip the person's arm and attempt to freeze him only what is in my hand is not skin. Swinging my head back, I clock him in the face with the back of my head and scramble in a daze after hearing the satisfying crunch. 

"Alpha!" I shout. The light blue eyes shoot open, I'd be forever grateful that that wolf loved me so much. Verando blinks rapidly, coughing as he assesses our situation, spotting me with a look mixed with rage and panic. I find I'm coughing, too, struggling to breath in the smoke and haze.

Fighting to an upright position, he scoots back towards the dresser, and I crawl off the bed, only to cry out as I feel the metallic fist grab hold of my hair. 

"Get in here! He's awake!" The man shouts, "We need to get out of here. This place is going down."

"Leave the dog!" The responder retorts as he rounds the corner. 

The heat is overwhelming, I extend my hand to the bathroom and pull water from the faucet, throwing it overtop of the burning rafters and bringing it back to smash the searing liquid into my attacker's face. He screams as I move to kick him away. 

In anger, he grabs my ankle, and I'm slung across the bedroom into the massive glass backboard of the dresser—the glass fractures, crumbling and popping as I slam onto the wood and flop onto the ground. The backboard shudders, snapping as it tumbles toward me and I shut my eyes upon hearing the thunk of impact. 

When I open them, I see Verando's managed to get his legs free but not his arms as he stands over me. 

Shoving, he pushes the headboard off, and I dive out of the way as I alert him to the incoming assailant. My warlord is agile for a large man, while he's not the most flexible, decades of harsh training had prepared him for situations such as these. He fights with his legs, quickly ducking out of the way as he kicks this poor man squarely in the side of the head with his heel. 

Falling back onto his butt, I feel sick as I see him dislocate his own thumb to shimmy out of the wrist restraints. I crawl to him as two more men stream into the room and use the glass to cut his elbows free. My hands stream blood, I hadn't thought to cover the glass, but I'm too high on adrenaline to think about the pain. 

Uncovering his mouth, he inhales much-needed air only to cough on the ever-growing smoke. Slipping his hand under the dresser, he produces a handgun and shoots both men in the head. "Come on. We need to get out of here." 

"Oh no, you don't." The scalded man storms towards us and Verando fires off a shot at him, deflected off the metal arm. 

I curse under my breath, I can't pull in any wind, it will only feed the flames. Shoving me out of the way, the bullets seem to almost bounce off of him, and I dive from the ricochets. Standing over the Lycan, he proceeds to attempt to stomp on him with a leg that is much too heavy to be human.

Is he a metal man?! Verando rolls out of the way and I plunge a glass shard into the man's weight-bearing thigh. He cries out and I feel the impact of the metallic hand hitting me in the side of the head. 

My world becomes a blur of gunshots and legs, I feel as though I'm weightless and then I hit the ground once more. My body is stuck in some strange purgatory, the fire surrounds us, and yet I feel helpless to stop it. If I could just focus for a second, my head feels as though it wants to split at the mere thought. 

I lull against a firm chest as I'm carried, and briefly, I consider fighting back, twisting against the arms that hold onto me so strongly. "Stop!" I shout, trying to get free. 

The cool air of the outdoors hits my face, and I hear the crunch of snow. 

"Randy, your arms!" I hear someone shout. 

My eyes searched for my warlord. What had happened to him?

"It's alright, he didn't mean it, he got hit in the head, and I believe he's a bit stunned. That man is still in there." His voice is hoarse from the smoke, coughing with every word he manages to get out. I shiver as I sit in the snow and try to focus my gaze. "Nic, come on, you got to breathe." I hear the familiar tone of my fiance's voice pushing me to take a breath. With each searing inhale of cold air, my lungs fight to absorb oxygen. 

I cough and sputter, at least assuring him that I was alive. 

"Watch him." He commands; I feel soft hands on my shoulders and through my blurry vision I spot Marisol. The Lycan's back disappears as he enters the house, almost entirely engulfed in flames. The roar of the fire is drowned out by the shrill scream of sirens, and as I glance up, I can't help but think the horizon looks beautiful as it reflects on the clouds and brings notice to fresh snowfall. 

Spotting the hose, as it sprays water onto the embers, I extend my hand and take control of it. In a quick move, I siphoned on the water from the connected hydrant and immersed the house in a monumental downpour. 

A blanket finds my shoulders as I sag back against the pregnant woman who feels so warm. My eyes settle on firey red hair in the distance, blowing so gently in the breeze and capturing the intensity of the horizon perfectly. She looks like a beautiful flame disappearing into the growing light. 

"Doe." Marisol sighs in relief as Verando drags our attacker out of the wreckage. I blink away the vision, slowly moving into a sitting position as I gain control of my thoughts. Legardo and Tonya stand on the curb, not far from us, and it appears as though Legardo faced a similar attack as he is quite beaten up. 

My warlord throws the unconscious man into the snow, his body steaming with the heat pouring off of him and the dampness of his outfit from my attempt to put out the flames. Slowly, I climb to my feet, and before I know it, I'm running across the fresh pack and my body connects with such force he almost falls over. 

Pressing my cheek against his chest, I hold him as tightly as I can manage, trying to choke back the sob of relief that somehow we were ok.

"Are you alright?" He asks me, body covered in a thin layer of soot. "Are you hurt?" Stooping down, he examines my face and frowns at my bloodied temple, though it would appear we now match even if his had faded from the water. 

"Yes. I'm fine. Honestly, I'm fine." I reassure him and myself. I'm in nothing but my underwear and T-shirt, as is he. My body shakes from the cold and the shock, rousted from sleep to an attempt at taking us. My bloody hands strip steadily onto the ice; two times I'd gripped the glass, and two times I'd sliced my palms. My head pounded mercilessly, my ears still ringing. Verando cursed as he collected my hands, and I noticed the scalding on his arms from my ice.

 "Are you okay?"I manage, voice hoarse.

"Just a few scratches is all, nothing major." This time it's him who hugs me, holding me so tightly against him that it's almost hard to breathe. "Gods, Nic, I thought-" I shake my head against his chest, and I notice he's shaking, too, but not from the cold. 

The sirens die down as the fire is reduced to a smolder along with the house; thankfully, we had been able to prevent the spread to the other homes, and Marisol's own home was merely next door. A true tragedy had been thwarted in that we escaped with our lives; as I turned to spy on the man lying in the snow.

 I move to approach him only to feel the steel grip of my warlord preventing me from gaining even a fraction of space. Tonya rushes to my side with a medical bag, and Marisol throws a blanket over my shoulders. 

"This man's human; he'll be hypothermic if we don't get this under control," Tonya instructs the rescue crew while Marisol directs them toward her house to find clothes. I gasp as she dumps a liquid over my palms, the pain intense with the depth of the slices. 

"Gardo." He calls. "See who this is. Pray for his sake that he's dead."

The pale-haired man crosses the short space, cautiously bumping the man with his foot. With no movement, he bends to grip the mask, and the man suddenly springs to life. Blade in hand, he slashes wildly, and Legardo curses as he stumbles to the ground with the man on top of him. 

The untrained man, merely a chief, fights for his life as Verando leaves me to kick the assailant firmly in the ribs. The lycra-covered man flips onto the floor, holding his side and his freshly reopened leg wound. 

Extending his hand, Verando helps up his look-alike, "You're getting slow." He comments half-heartedly.

Legardo snorts back at him, "I don't fight as you do. I cook and raise my kids. I'm not a warrior. Shit like this didn't happen until you came along."

Pursing his lips, the more experienced man offers him a small smile. "Still, good instincts, though. At least you didn't cry, yeah? We'll make a fighter out of you yet." 

I hear the strangled grunts of the grounded man. He's angry, seething under the cloth that hides his expression. It makes the pale-haired man wrinkle his nose, and my eyes widen as the attacker pulls out the handgun. 

"Fucking bastard! Will you go ahead and die, already?!" He shouts, firing off a single round that whizzes past my warlord and promptly hits me in the chest. Everyone is staring at me. The gun falls to the snow, and I touch the hole, tilting my head as my fingertips turn red. Red, like the horizon. 

"Nic! No, Nic! I'm so sorry, Nic!" The man screams, and he sounds so vaguely familiar. The sky almost looks on fire as the clouds clear away; brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows fill the sky and paint an incredible backdrop against the sleepy ocean. 

I cough once, grimacing at the metallic taste, seeing the red splatter on the snow.

"It went straight through." The voice echoes around me as I feel the world begins to fall away. Cold, I feel so cold. My hands numbly clutch as if I want to curl up in the blanket. "Call David Malcom."

"Like hell!" My warlord's voice makes me surface, and I glance up to see his jaw. I touch his neck, tracing over the scars and leaving red streaks. Coughing again, it spatters on his shirt, and I try to wipe it away. 

I want to tell him they're all worried for nothing, I'm fine, just a little cold. The hands that flash in front of my blurry vision are pale, ghostly white, I realize they're mine and frown. 

"Randy, I can't save him if we don't go right now."

The sirens surround me, and the world becomes loud with voices and uniforms. I'm pulled away from the warmth and shoved into a car where the lights are bright, everything echos in this strange chamber, and a mask nears my face with such speed that I can't even react. 

I come to just clearly enough to scream at the searing pain in my chest; bringing me back from the dead meant bringing the pain with it. "It hurts! Please!" I plead. "Randy!" 

"Take him." He permits her; his voice sounds off, strangled somehow. "Tonya, I'm trusting you."

I arch off the bed as I scream once more, trying to escape the searing pain exploding under my ribs. Hands are all around me, cutting off my clothes, pulling at my body as they try and hold me down. I can't breathe, I can't get away, I can't fathom this pain. My mind retreats; what if they hurt me worse? What if they.. do something to me?

"Not again. Please, not again." I sob, out of my mind. I couldn't go through it again; in my head, Sherian was waiting for me. I'd been captured, and I'd be in his chambers soon enough.

"He's losing too much blood." One of the voices behind the pair of hands warns Tonya.

"Go, Tonya. I'm right behind you." Verando snaps, giving the woman permission to take me. Letting them take me away from him. "Get that son of a bitch and bring him to me."

When I open my eyes, I'm surrounded by white again, and the gentle rif of an evening broadcast plays in the background. I roll my eyes, searching for anything, only to finally spot the window, and when I look for that beautiful sunrise, I see it's nighttime.

 My hand is warm, almost hot to the touch; I wiggle my fingers and find that I'm soundly clutched by Verando, who glowers at the television screen. Feeling my movement, I startle him into noticing that I've come back to life, and he quickly turns to face me, though, to my dismay, he doesn't touch me any further. 

My chest no longer hurts, though I suspect it's painkillers, as I glance at the large IV bag hanging beside my best. My heart monitor chirps merrily along, and I finally focus on him again. His high cheekbones and Greek nose perfectly aligned with the smallest divet at the top from where Tomas broke it. 

His full upper lip and the way his cheek dimples when he smiles at me, I smile back, and he sighs in relief. "You have no right to smile at me that way; I've failed you." His voice sounds wrong, harsh from the smoke.

"Failed me?" I croak, flinching at my own lungs; everything in my body warned me that I didn't dare cough.

"It's my fault you were shot. I should have disarmed him. I got lazy." 

I reach for his face, brushing my thumb over his lower lip, which is marked with a scar. He kisses my palm, his hand covering mine to press his cheek into my fingers. The stubble makes me smile, though I might still be delirious from the painkillers. 

"I'm sorry, darling. I-" He stops himself, kissing my hand once more. "You're pretty damn lucky to be alive. Are you in any pain?"

I blink, trying to focus. "I feel drunk. What even happened?"

"Someone tried to kidnap you. You were hit in the head and have a mild concussion; you were thrown into a dresser. Tonya says you have a couple of stress fractures... finally, you were shot in the lung. It went straight through; you nearly bled out, but Tyler was able to give you some of his blood." His voice sounds as if he is in agony, yet when I look him over, he seems to be alright. 

"Mmm.." I groan, settling back into my pillow as I take inventory. "I'd hate to see the other guy." The sarcasm is heavy in my voice, and I glance at his arms. "Weren't you burned?"

"Oh, I healed. Quite the feat. Don't worry about me, darling. I'm just so glad you're ok." He holds my hand in both of his, kissing my knuckles and brushing his lips across the backs of my fingers. "Helen is on her way with Sef to heal you, but that by no means obligates you to do anything for the next while." 

I grit my teeth and slowly force my way into a sitting position. 

Clutching my hand tighter with his, he frowns, warning me with his eyes to stay still. "Nic, you were screaming; you had a psychotic break on top of everything else; I'm telling you as the man who's going to be your husband. As someone who practically watched you die. You're staying right here, so don't even think about getting any sort of motivated."

Slipping my hand out of his grasp, I reach to fix his hair, which is even more tangled than usual with the stress. 

"That is exactly what they want, me out of commission. We'll put Sef to the test and see what she can do, but Randy, I'm not going to sit in the bed. This is a warning; this shows us we are on the right path and that they are getting desperate to stop us. We can't stop now; we have to keep going. Randy, I-" 

The vision of the woman flashes before my eyes, and I shut them, touching my temple. Verando stands, moving to push the button to call the nurse, but I clutch the hem of his shirt weakly and stop him.

"No, no, it's not... it's just-" I sigh, he's going to explode. "I saw her. I saw her on the street, Randy. Red- She was there at the house while it was burning."

He settles slowly into his seat; I see the fracture across his mental status so clearly in his eyes. The piece that separates the calculated man from a cold-blooded killer. "You did?" His voice is gentle. 

I nod, reluctant to say more yet dying to beg him to find her. At the snap of my fingers, he would be gone hunting her, and I was certain he would not return until she died at his hands, yet I felt as though that was exactly what she wanted. 

"Randy. I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Stay. Do not hunt her down. Please do not leave me to search for her; we have to do this correctly, and this is exactly what she wants. Promise me. Promise me that you will stay. If you stay.. I'll stay." 

I hold him to his word, forcing my will upon him and invoking my power as the center of his universe. He would do as I asked because I asked if it meant my happiness. If nothing more than for the agreement that she would be waiting for us to slip up now that her plan had failed. 

After what feels like an eternity of silence, he reluctantly nods. 

"I promise."

"Thank you. We have to stay together." I bring his hand to my lips and kiss the space that will soon hold our wedding ring. "Do we know who shot me?" 

His body grows rigid, and I feel the heat building. 

"If it was Tiberius, I'm going to be really pissed off."

Verando's teeth grind together as he tries to form the words. "Tonic. Tonic is the one who shot you, he is also the one who started the fires."