Chapter 21
Vanya
He knows.
Gods, he knows.
I’d be a fool to think someone like Kross wouldn’t notice something as glaring as the resemblance between Vaughn and Vanya. He wasn’t just strong—he was calculated. Observant. Dangerous in every way that mattered. When he saw me in that alley today—as Vanya—his eyes didn’t just look; they searched. He found something. I could feel it.
I should’ve stayed in the open market. I should’ve never followed him. What the hell was I thinking?
And now here I was, frozen in bed, my back to him, every muscle taut as steel when he asked, “What pack are you from again?”
The calm before a storm.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forced my voice steady, and without turning back, I said, “Bloodmoon Pack.”
Then waited for the strike.
Waited for him to la
