The artwork above is not mine.

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    Ruhn was up before sunrise, which wasn't unusual but was still unwelcome. If he had things his way, he'd sleep in until late afternoon more than just once a week. Ruhn raked his fingers through his unbound hair, not bothering with an actual brush. When loose, his hair fell just below his waist. Flynn liked to say he put most females to shame.

    Of course, he always yelled at Ruhn for supposedly using his shampoo and conditioner after he said those things. Ruhn chose to ignore him, just as he ignored the name and warning labels Flynn stuck on his bottles. As the son of a Lord, Tristan Flynn could afford to buy his ridiculously expensive hair products and still share them. Then again, Ruhn could do the same.

    Ruhn ground his teeth as he shrugged on the long sleeved leather shirt of his Aux uniform. He hated being reminded of who his father was. Of who he was. Son of the Autumn King, Einar Danaan. Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. Heir to the Starborn Fae. The so-called Chosen One.

    As long as he could remember, Ruhn had done everything within his power to distance himself from his father and titles. From the tattoos on his arms to his shithole of a house. It never seemed enough. With a second thought, Ruhn grabbed a set of small hoops and chain earrings off a dresser. He placed them along the curve of his arched ears, biting down on his lip ring as he concentrated.

    A fist pounded on his door. "Let's go, Ruhn," Flynn hollered. "Wouldn't want those Wolves to cover more ground than us."

    Ruhn grabbed the sheathed sword on his bed and buckled it across his chest. The scabbard rested in the center of his back, and the hilt of the blade sat within easy reach behind his shoulder. This sword was the reason why he was the Chosen One and Heir to the Starborn Fae. He'd earned it during his Ordeal, a difficult trial that occurred before Vanir made the Drop. A Vanir who successfully made the Drop emerged with newly claimed immortality and the full scale of their power.

    During his own Ordeal, which he'd shared with Declan and Flynn, Ruhn had found himself alone in a cave, where this sword was stuck in a stone. He was able to free the sword and used it to defend himself from his cousin, Cormac Donnall, who had also been present during the Ordeal. Ruhn later learned that his sword was in fact the Starsword, and he had been found worthy of bearing it. Shortly after the Ordeal, Flynn had Anchored Ruhn while he made the Drop.

    Ruhn emerged from his room and found Flynn waiting near the stairs. Declan was standing by the front door. Ruhn and Flynn hurried down and the three of them stepped out into the street. The sky was tinged pink in the east, where the sun was barely beginning to rise.

    "Where do you think we'll meet the Wolves?" Flynn asked.

    "I checked the camera feeds while the two of you were upstairs. They're four blocks away," Declan said. "I imagine we'll run into them in ten minutes or so." He shook dark auburn hair out of his face and set off down the sidewalk. Ruhn and Flynn fell in step on either side of him.

    As they walked, Ruhn kept his eyes peeled for any sign of lingering troublemakers on the streets. Most of the city's nightlife would be asleep by now, but there were always a few stragglers who had to be dragged to one of the many Auxiliary prisons just to prevent them from harming themselves or others.

    Declan was busy scanning the buildings they passed by, making sure all of the cameras were in place and none were in need of repairs. Flynn was ready and alert in the event of someone attacking them while they made their rounds. All three of them were silent as they patrolled the first two blocks.

    Ruhn drank in deep breaths of morning air. It carried a hint of salt from the nearby sea, but mostly, he smelled exhaust, alcohol, spicy foods, and mingled bodies. He loved it. He wouldn't trade the Old Square for any part of the city. Not his father's villa. Not the most luxurious manor in the Central Business District. Nothing beat the authenticity of the Old Square, and it was authenticity he craved.

    "My conditioner is almost gone and I just bought that bottle last week," Flynn remarked presently. "If you're going to use it, at least use smaller amounts."

    "Who said it was me?" Ruhn countered. "Might've been Dec."

    "If it wasn't you, why were you so eager to defend yourself?" Flynn shot him a smug grin.

    "Maybe because you always blame me," Ruhn answered, rolling his blue eyes.

    "It wasn't me. I don't like smelling like eucalyptus and cedarwood," Declan said.

    "You prefer smelling like mirthroot, beer, and electrical wires?" Flynn snorted.

    "Yep."

    "That explains why I could smell you six blocks away," a gruff voice cut in.

    Ruhn narrowed his eyes, spying the three figures approaching from the sidewalk opposite to them. "Morning, Rafe," Flynn called. "It's nice to see you too." He craned his head sideways and a smirk lit his features. "Hey, Rai Rai."

    "How many times do I have to break your nose before you stop calling me that?" Sarai Ilerion growled. Ruhn didn't even try to hide his smile. He didn't like watching Flynn flirt with the Wolf, but he did enjoy watching her get irritated.

    "As many times as you like," Flynn said with a wink.

    Sarai gave a frustrated grunt, rolling her eyes. Declan pushed Flynn aside and began talking about logistics of some sort, occupying Rafe's attention. Ruhn kept one eye on Sarai, but didn't pay much mind to the third female with them. He recognized Holly from a few other patrols. She'd never caused trouble, despite being a Wolf, which meant she was all right in his book.

    Sarai stared at the clouds, a look of utter boredom resting on her fine features. Ruhn swept his gaze over her, granting himself permission to briefly admire the Shifter. There had been a time when he would've put aside the rivalries between their Houses and species to pursue a relationship with her. He had, in fact, but it hadn't ended well.

    I was young and stupid then, hoping to fuck a pretty girl and maybe have a good word put in with my sister, Ruhn thought to himself.

    While he could admit that he found Sarai attractive, that wasn't what originally caught his eye. Sarai was friends with the Pack of Devils, and through them, she knew Bryce Quinlan, his younger half-sister. Ruhn had been trying to find a way back into Bryce's good graces for years, after an argument caused them to part ways. The argument had been his fault. As was the wedge between them.

    Now, he was doing everything he could to bridge the gap, including winning over Bryce's friends. Sarai Ilerion, however, could not be won over, and Ruhn learned that the hard way. After realizing who she was friends with, he'd begun to pay closer attention to her and developed a small infatuation with the Wolf.

    She was beautiful, with long dark hair, sharp brown eyes that almost appeared black, and copper skin kissed by cool undertones. The only marking on her body that he could see was her pack tattoo, which had often drawn Ruhn's attention to her elegant neck. Her ears were pierced all the way to the apex, similar to his own, but she preferred cuff earrings instead of the hoops and chains he wore.

    The earrings she wore now gave off the illusion of snake skin, winding along the curve of her ears. Sarai's hair was pulled back in a tight braid, with only a few loose wavy strands framing her face. Her black leather shirt was sleeveless, flaunting the hard muscles in her arms. The shirt buckled down the front and hugged her generous curves, before changing into a set of equally tight leather pants. A handgun was holstered to her thigh and a sword dangled from the belt on her hips.

    Ruhn's gaze traveled down the length of her legs appreciatively. They were by far his favorite aspect of Sarai. They were long and lithe, praising her speed and agility in both this form and her Wolf form. How many times had he lain awake daydreaming about those legs and what he might do between them? So many times that he was now too embarrassed to recall.

    "Why don't you take a picture?" Sarai scoffed. Ruhn dragged his attention back to her face and found her watching him. As were their companions.

    Ruhn tilted his head with a smirk. "I'm surprised you'd allow it."

    "Not everyone gets to brag about the Chosen One jacking off to pictures of their legs."

    He arched a brow and Flynn snorted beside him. "I'd much rather jack off to that tongue," Ruhn shot back. Sarai promptly stuck her tongue out.

    "Enough." Rafe grabbed Sarai by the shoulder and hauled her back. Sarai's angry glare shifted to him, and Ruhn mirrored it. He might not like the female, but he hated watching anyone be shoved around like that. "Keep to your side of the street, Fae Bastards."

    "They will," Holly interrupted. "There's no need to antagonize each other. Let's just get on with our business so we can all go home." She touched Rafe's arm. His shoulders relaxed, but he stormed away without a word. Holly trailed after him.

    "Shouldn't you be following your Alpha?" Ruhn called, jerking his head towards Rafe.

    Sarai shrugged. "Shouldn't you be following your daddy?"

    He narrowed his eyes, shadows building at his fingertips. It was a gift he'd inherited from his mother's people, the ability to speak telepathically, summon shadows, and even move through them. This gift was stronger than his Starborn powers, though not by much.

    "Ruhn." Declan rested a hand on his shoulder. "Ignore her. She's just looking for a reaction."

    "Or attention," Flynn added. "Though not mine, apparently."

    Sarai raised her middle finger before stalking down the street. Ruhn watched her go and only let his shadows recede when she was out of sight. "If she wanted my attention, she knows she could've had it," he muttered. "But not anymore."

    Ruhn shouldered past his friends and continued on their route. His thoughts circled back to one particular day before he could stop them. The day he made his move and Sarai irrevocably humiliated him. She'd only been seventeen at the time. He was sixty-five. He, Flynn, and Declan had thrown a party and on a whim, Ruhn invited Sarai.

    To his surprise, she had come and was unaccompanied. He'd hoped that meant she read in between the lines of his invitation. He'd mentioned that a few of their friends were staying over after the party ended and she was welcome to as well, as he was interested in getting to know her better.

When he approached Sarai, he was greeted with a flurry of insults. She'd called him an assortment of names, passed on a message from a few other Wolves, said his party was lame, and thrown a bottle of beer at him. There was a scar on his palm from where the bottle cut him when it shattered.

An argument ensued following that, which quickly developed into a fight. Despite not having made the Drop, Sarai had managed to overpower Ruhn. She broke his leg and several of his ribs. Sarai had spent a few nights in prison as punishment, while Ruhn spent hours in his father's office, listening to the Autumn King rant about the indignity and humiliation of the event. Ruhn had harbored a deep resentment towards Sarai ever since, and she seemed to share the feeling.

    "Hey." Ruhn jerked himself out of his thoughts as Flynn tapped him on the shoulder. Flynn held up his phone. "I took a picture of her."

    Ruhn eyed the captured image and burst out laughing. Flynn had taken a closeup of Sarai's face while her tongue was sticking out. He'd also placed an image of shit on her tongue and added a pair of fluffy ears to the top of her head. The tip of a bushy tail peeked above her shoulders.

    "Send it to me," Ruhn managed to say amidst his laughter.

    "I already did. Sent it to her too."

    "You have her number?"

    Flynn tipped his head back towards Declan. "Dec found it for me a few months ago."

    "Stalker."

    "I can hack her social media accounts later and upload the photo," Declan offered.

    Ruhn grinned, but shook his head. "There's no need. I think she'll understand the meaning well enough."

    Flynn pocketed his phone and draped an arm over Ruhn's shoulders. They carried on down the street and rounded a corner. Thankfully, there were no Wolves in sight. Minutes later, Ruhn heard an enraged scream and couldn't help but laugh once more.