Claimed By The Four Alpha Demons

4. Ours By Blood And Sin

Ace’s POV

The heavy mahogany doors of the library clicked shut, but the scent of her remained. It was a physical thing, a thick cord of ozone and sweet lavender that wound around my throat and pulled at the darker half of my soul. I stood in the center of the dim room for a long moment, my hands still humming with the residual shock of her touch.

Pure chaos.

I’d felt it the second she stepped onto the grounds of Grimstone Hall. Most humans were silent, like dull, flickering candles in a world of shadows. Their thoughts were a muffled hum of mundane worries: Did I lock the door? Am I hungry? Does he like me? But Callie Black was a supernova. Her mind wasn’t a whisper. It was a shout. Even without trying to pry, I could feel the truth of her vibrating against my mental shields. She was terrified, yes, but beneath the fear was a core of steel that sang to the soot and cinders in my blood.

My demon roared behind my ribs, clawing at the cage of my skin, demanding I go back up those stairs, tear down the mental walls she didn’t even know she had, and feast on every secret she kept.

I forced a breath into my lungs, my charcoal eyes bleeding back to a solid, ink-black void as I let the mask slip.

“I know you’re lurking, brothers,” I rumbled, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. “Come out and stop sniffing the air like common mutts. It’s embarrassing.”

From the shadows of the mezzanine, Greyson stepped into the light. He looked every bit the corporate king, his suit pristine, his expression a mask of cold obsidian. But the twitch in his jaw betrayed him. He had smelled her too.

Below, near the fireplace, the shadows bled into the form of Raiden. He was already half-changed, the black ink of his tattoos pulsing rhythmically against his skin like a second heartbeat. His nostrils flared, his pupils blown wide.

“She’s…potent,” Raiden rasped, his voice a jagged edge of hunger. “The air around her practically vibrates. I could taste the static from the Great Hall.”

“She’s more than potent,” I said, walking toward the center of the room. “She’s a live wire. Every time she gets agitated, the electrical field in the room spikes. I watched a brass lamp flicker just because I got within six inches of her.”

Nate appeared last, leaning against the doorframe of the West Wing. He was the quietest of us, the one who saw the world in patterns and probabilities. He held a tablet in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on the spot where Callie had been standing.

“The sensors in the library recorded a localized electromagnetic pulse when you touched her, Ace,” Nate said, his voice clinical but tight. “She’s a beacon. A natural-born conduit.”

“She’s a witch,” Greyson stated, his voice final. He descended the spiral staircase, his presence heavy enough to dim the lights. “A dormant one, but the bloodline is unmistakable. The way the shadows of the Manor lean toward her…the house knows power when it feels it.”

I leaned back against the oak table, crossing my arms over my chest. The wood was still warm from where she had pressed against it. “She has no idea. Her mind is a chaotic mess of denial and instinct. I could taste it on her. She thinks she’s ‘clumsy with electronics.’ She’s actually worried about the wiring in her grandmother’s estate, Briarcliff.”

“You read her?” Raiden asked, a mix of jealousy and curiosity in his tone.

“I didn’t have to push,” I said, tapping my temple. “Her truth just spills out. It’s intoxicating. Most people taste like lies, sour, ash-covered little deceptions they tell themselves to get through the day. But Callie…she tastes like rain. Clean. Honest. It took everything I had not to reach into her mind and pull out everything she is.”

“Restrain yourself,” Greyson warned, his eyes narrowing. “If you break her mind before she awakens, she’s useless to us. We need her whole. We need her willing.”

“She’ll be hunted,” Nate interrupted, swiping across his screen. “The second her power fully crests, every bottom-feeder in the North will smell her. Which is exactly why she’s here. And why he is here.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted, turning from predatory hunger to cold, calculated malice. We hadn’t picked Callie Black’s application out of a pile by accident. We had been watching her for months, waiting for the moment her life in the city collapsed just enough to drive her back to Northwich.

“The fiancé,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Liam Whitlock.”

Nate tapped his tablet, and an image projected onto the library wall. It was a photo of a man in a tailored, expensive suit, the kind of man who smiled for the cameras while burying a knife in your back. To the world, he was a high-powered real estate lawyer. To us, he was a parasite.

“Liam is a fixer for the Council of Elders of the East Coast Pack Wolves,” Nate explained, his eyes glowing with a faint, digital blue light. “He’s been Marcus Thorne’s right hand for three years. His specialty is siphoning ancestral assets. He didn’t just stumble upon Callie; he targeted her. He knows about the Ley Line that runs beneath Briarcliff, and he knows that her grandmother’s estate is the anchor point.”

“Briarcliff is the key,” Greyson said, stepping into the center of the projection, his shadow bisecting Liam’s face. “The Council of Elders has been trying to breach the Northern Territory for decades, and Thorne is getting desperate. He knows the Hellgate beneath our mines is unstable, but he can’t access it without controlling the flow of magic across the valley. Briarcliff sits right on the valve.”

“He’s planning something big,” I noted, sensing the undercurrent of tension in Nate’s silence. My power didn’t just work on humans; I could feel the anxiety rolling off my brother. “Spit it out, Nate. What aren’t you saying?”

Nate hesitated, then pulled up a second image, a satellite map of the region, highlighting the distance between Grimstone Hall and Callie’s estate. “There’s been chatter on the encrypted channels. Thorne is moving assets. Heavy hitters. Not just lawyers, but Enforcers. And they’re bringing in ‘specialists’ from the East Coast. It coincides with the lunar cycle.”

“A ritual,” Raiden snarled, his claws extending just a fraction. “He’s not just going to steal her land. He’s going to use the marriage to bind her bloodline to the Council. He wants to drain her dry to fuel a breach.”

“He thinks he’s playing a long game with a human girl,” I mused, a slow, cruel smirk spreading across my face. “He has no idea he’s hand-delivered a Prime Witch to a pack of half-demons who can smell his deceit from a mile away.”

“Does she love him?” Raiden asked, his lip curling in disgust.

“She’s loyal,” I said, remembering the flicker of defense I’d sensed in her thoughts. “But the truth is already eating at her. I felt it when I was close to her. The static she generates is a symptom of her subconscious rejecting the lie he’s told her. Her magic is trying to warn her that she’s sleeping next to a snake. All I have to do is…nudge that doubt. Pull the truth to the surface until she chokes on it.”

Greyson turned to me, his gaze unyielding. “The contract is signed. She’s under our roof, which puts her under our protection, and our jurisdiction. We let Liam play his games for now. We let him think he’s winning. But the moment he tries to lay a finger on her magic, we end him.”

“And Thorne?” I asked. “If the Council is moving Enforcers into our backyard, this is an act of war.”

Greyson nodded slowly. “It is. And we won’t fight it blind.” He looked at Nate. “Prepare the secure line. We need to call New York.”

Raiden raised an eyebrow. “You want to bring Alexander DeLuca into this? The Wolf King hates us.”

“DeLuca hates the Council more than he hates demons,” Greyson corrected. “He’s been fighting Thorne in the East for years. If Thorne is moving assets here, DeLuca will know why. We need to know what the Wolf King knows. If the Council is planning a ritual to breach the Gate using Briarcliff as a catalyst, it threatens his territory just as much as ours.”

“I’ll set up the call for tonight,” Nate confirmed. “DeLuca won’t be happy to hear from us, but he’ll listen.”

“Good,” Greyson said. “In the meantime, Callie stays close. We need to acclimate her to our energy before the inevitable fallout. If she doesn’t learn to ground that energy, she’s going to burn this house down or herself.”

“I’ll handle the acclimation,” I volunteered, the memory of her taste still lingering on my tongue. “I can help her sort through the noise in her head. Quiet the chaos.”

“Just quiet it, Ace,” Greyson warned. “Don’t consume it.”

“I’ll be gentle,” I lied smoothly.

I looked at my hand, the one that had tucked that lock of dark hair behind her ear. A tiny blue spark danced across my knuckles, a parting gift from the little witch who didn’t know she was a queen.

The shadows of Grimstone Hall purred in response, and for the first time in a century, the estate felt like more than a fortress.

It felt like a trap. And we were the ones caught in it just as much as she was.

“Tonight, we secure the perimeter,” Greyson ordered, his voice ringing with Alpha command. “If the Council wants a war, we’ll give them one. But they don’t touch the girl. Callie Black is ours now. By blood, by magic, and by sin.”

I smiled, and this time, my teeth were definitely too sharp. “I’ll make sure she stays busy. There’s a lot of…dust…in the West Wing that needs my personal attention.”

“Ace,” Greyson warned.

“Don’t worry, brother,” I drawled, turning toward the stairs. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Mostly.”

As I ascended to the mezzanine, I could still hear the faint, frantic rhythm of her heart echoing through the stones of the house. It was a beautiful sound. The sound of a beginning.

And as the darkness of the manor reached out to embrace me, I knew one thing for certain: Liam might have the ring, and the Council might have the plan, but we had the witch. And in Northwich, the demons always kept what they caught.