My stomach flipped when the plane wheels touched down on the runway. I liked flying; it was relaxing in a way. Meals served on tiny trays, losing myself in a good book, and most importantly, being completely anonymous. Just one person in the crowd. 

 For six weeks, I'd been traveling back and forth to the airport, taking on more work than I wanted, but weeks without any thoughts of vampire vendettas or blood bags were well worth it. It had been a much-needed break, and as I stood by the baggage carousel, I felt genuinely happy and relaxed. 

 Clocksworth had only reached out once—a text that read; It's done. 

Word had spread around town, even among the wolves, about the new vampire who had cleared out the abandoned houses. The question was whether they saw him as a hero or a threat. Maybe neither—or both. Hopefully, it would all blow over in a few weeks. Of course, it hadn't made things easier for my wolf. He never said anything about it; he didn't want to get involved. But I'd heard the rumors too, and I could see how he wrestled with himself. He didn't need to share details for me to know his life had never been a bed of roses. In that way, we were alike—more scarred and battered on the inside than the outside. 

 Maybe that's why it was so comforting to just sink into the couch next to him, without expectations. To just exist together, for each other. No one else was involved. We weren't forced to endure awkward family dinners or suffer through stiff movie dates. Neither of us was looking for that kind of relationship right now. He did his thing, and I did mine. 

 Dragging my suitcase toward the exit, my heart leapt from idle to alive the moment I saw him by the car. I could've easily taken a cab home—I hadn't even asked, and he hadn't offered. Yet almost every time the plane landed, he was there waiting. 

 "Hey," I said, my face breaking into the widest smile I could manage, met by his amused eyes. 

 "Hey yourself." 

 For a few seconds, I just stood there grinning before dropping my bag and throwing my arms around his neck. I've-missed-you kisses were the best, I thought, before reluctantly pulling away to let him grab my bag and toss it into the trunk in seconds flat. 

 "Something happened." 

 The words made my heart sink. "Oh..." I exhaled slowly. 

 "The town's crawling with new leeches. I don't know why, but I'm guessing you might be safer somewhere else," he muttered. 

 "Hardly," I sighed, muttering a frustrated, "Thanks a lot, Clock..." as I slid into the passenger seat. 

 "The guy on the roof?" I nodded once. 

"I guess his little purge was too effective, and now the flies are swarming the rotting corpse."  

Conor started the car, and we left the bustling airport with a lingering sense of uncertainty. "So, what's it about? Territory? Power? Money?" 

 I shook my head and sighed. "Blood."

"Of course," the wolf muttered, shaking his head, and I immediately felt like I owed him an explanation. 

 "Blood isn't just food," I began hesitantly. "Sure, it makes us stronger, it's necessary to keep our minds sharp, and some of us have... special abilities. The old ones, the ones who've lived forever—they need it to function properly." I ran a nervous hand through my hair before whispering, "Otherwise, we're pretty human," casting a quick glance his way. 

 The only response I got was a raised eyebrow, but I pushed myself to keep explaining. For some reason, admitting my greatest weakness to him felt like an enormous weight, and my voice faltered as I slumped in the seat, suddenly feeling painfully small beside him. "It's like a drug," I continued. "You feel strong, invincible, and the world spins in this... chaotic, blissful way." I licked my lips unconsciously, struggling against the thirst creeping up as I spoke. 

He must've noticed the change—how my leg started bouncing restlessly and my fingers tapped against my thigh—but he said nothing. "There's a price," I added in a trembling voice. "Drink too much, and you lose your humanity. You become more like an animal, more beast than the person you were." I drew a shaky breath and whispered, "And not just on the inside." 

 "Explains a lot," he said calmly, shifting so he could steer with one hand while reaching for my chin with the other. I didn't want to meet his eyes, not then, but his hand was insistent. Eventually, I gave in, turning my head to look up at his face. His gaze flickered between me and the road as he asked, "So your boyfriend comes here, starts a drug war, and leaves us to clean up the mess?" 

 "He's not my boyfr—" 

 "You say his name in your sleep, Sweetheart," he interrupted smoothly, letting go of my chin to shift gears. I closed my eyes, biting down hard on my lower lip until I tasted iron. The blood triggered my thirst, and the deafening echo of his powerful heartbeat pulsed temptingly through the car. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling like the smallest person in the world. 

 "You can't help what you dream about, Princess." 

 I shook my head frantically. "No, I'm sorry for dragging you into my messed-up life." 

 He sighed, reaching for my hand without taking his eyes off the road. "No one forced me. It was my choice." 

 The drive from the airport to the apartment was relatively long. A heavy silence settled over us, and my growing anxiety only made the craving for blood worse the more I tried to suppress it. My hand gripped the door handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. I chewed furiously on my bottom lip, but the taste of my own blood only made it harder. Conor's steady focus on the road didn't help; I didn't want to bother him with my dark thoughts, knowing he had plenty of his own. Guilt washed over me again.

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled out my phone and dialed Clock's number. This time, it took him a little longer to answer.

"Belmont?"

"You said everything was taken care of!" I snapped, my voice bouncing around the car's interior. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wolf glance at me. "But, like always, it got so much worse, Clock! So. Much. Worse!" My leg started bouncing uncontrollably, and I pounded the side of my fist against the door in sheer frustration. "This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, do you get that?"

 "I know," the voice on the other end said curtly. 

 "Tell me what you did so I can fix it," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. Inside, I could feel the tears coming. 

 "I got rid of a few mosquitoes, Bel. You should be grateful," he muttered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion—the tone he always used when he wanted to hide his anxiety. 

 If he thought I'd fall for his act, he was dead wrong. I knew him better than he realized, and I could tell this was hard for him, too. But the vampire on the other end of the line wasn't mine anymore. He spoke like the man I'd first met all those years ago—when he'd been the Prince's right hand, a soulless master of torture. 

 "Sure. Can't you hear how thrilled I am!?" I growled, shifting uneasily in my seat. 

 "I did what I could," he replied flatly. "Maybe you should just leave? It's what you usually do when things get too hard." His condescending tone broke me. 

Tears streamed down my face as I fought to keep my composure. I searched for a retort, something sharp enough to cut him as deeply as his words had cut me—something that would make him cry, too. But there were no words. All I managed was a shaky gasp, barely able to hold back the sobs threatening to spill out. 

 Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt at the side of the road, throwing me forward against the seatbelt. Three seconds later, Conor stepped out of the car, my phone pressed to his ear. He slammed the door shut behind him. His body language was calm, but the tension in his muscles betrayed him—he was ready for a fight, no matter the outcome. 

 My heart raced as I watched him. What the hell were they saying to each other? Anxiety crept up my spine, but at the same time, I felt relieved. I knew Conor would never leave me hanging. Never. But could I let him handle my mess? Should I? Could I live with that on my conscience? What if something happened to him? I pulled my knees up under my chin, hiding my face behind my arms. This day had started off so well, I thought bitterly, trying to focus on memories of airport coffee and croissants. But Clocksworth's words echoed in my head, mocking the overwhelming urge to run from it all again.

 I mustered the courage to peek at Conor. He looked irritated—determined, even—but whatever Clock was saying on the other end of the line, it wasn't good. Maybe we could just leave, just for a little while, to regroup before cleaning up my mess. 

 Minutes felt like hours before he finally turned back toward the car. My phone disappeared into his pocket as he opened the passenger door and crouched in front of me. His eyes searched mine, cautious, as if he expected me to be angry. But my walls had completely crumbled, and every raw emotion was on full display as I climbed out of the car, curling into his chest and burying my face in his thick curls. 

He sighed deeply before wrapping his arms around my trembling frame. 

 "What did he say?" I whispered at last. 

 "It's chaos in the vampire hierarchy in Noxwood." 

 "Not surprising. They lost their Alpha," I mumbled, trying—and failing—not to drench his hair with my tears. 

 "He had a few suggestions for what we could do," he added, though his tone wasn't as gentle now. 

 "Great," I muttered sarcastically, letting go of his neck and staring at the gravel beneath him.  

"Listen, Snow White," he said, tilting my chin up with a thumb as his other hand wiped a tear-streaked cheek. "I get that you and Clock have history. Complicated history. But he's no idiot, that much I can tell. He knows his stuff." 

 I took a deep, shaky breath, fishing a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. "So we should listen to him?" 

 "We can take the best parts of his advice and do the rest our way." 

I nodded, placing a cigarette between my lips, but my hands trembled too much to light it. A larger hand covered mine, steadying it as he took the lighter from me and sparked a flame.

 "What do you want to do?" 

 The question immediately brought up one pathetic answer: running away. "Go home to my dad and pretend none of this ever happened," I admitted, exhaling smoke into the crisp air. 

 "You could always find a magic lamp," he teased with a grin that made me smile despite myself.  

"Sure. But how do I make my wish come true without wishing you away?"

 "You forget, you get three wishes," he smirked, ruffling my hair playfully before heading back to the driver's seat. 

 "I don't know," I muttered uncertainly. "Three wishes sound terrifying. What if the genie twists my words, and we end up fused together like conjoined twins? You wouldn't put up with that, right? No way. There goes wish two, fixing that mess." 

 The car started, and the wolf said nothing, his relaxed, amused expression making it clear my rambling entertained him. 

 "Or worse, what if he kills off all the vampires in the world and I'll be all alone?" 

 "You wouldn't be. You forgot something."

 "What?" 

 "Me," he said with a wink.