1. Sasha

Chapter 1

Sasha

Fifteen Years Later

" A re you sure this is the place?" Scout's voice cuts through the creeping fog rolling over one of the oldest docks in South Africa.

"Yep." I keep my gaze fixed on the dimly lit warehouses along the dock that give off an unsettling vibe, as if the weather is holding its breath, waiting for something menacing to happen. These old docks we're walking along seem stuck in time, the place weather-beaten under the weight of the damp air, the moored ships nearby groaning like ghosts. And this strange green tint to the fog spreading over us makes the gas lamps along the dock stretch out like long, twisted shadows.

If I weren't at work, I might have enjoyed the creepy vibes more, reminded of the noir murder mystery books I like to devour. Instead, I'm focused on the target we're hunting down—an animal-trafficking asshole who's skipped bail.

"If I were on the run, I sure as fuck wouldn't be hiding out here, of all places." Scout scrunches his long nose at the dilapidated building we're nearing, which looks ready to fall into a heap any moment. To me, it's the perfect hiding spot.

"Does it matter?" I say, speeding up, scanning for building numbers, searching for A32. "We're taking the bastard in today." I have no doubt in my ability… as long as we find him first before another bounty hunter does.

I've been working for Prime Bonds Recovery for the past five years and have an excellent track record for catching more targets than anyone else in the company. I suspect that's why the boss sent me on this high-profile mission.

But why he threw in Scout as my partner for this task is a joke. The guy started at the company four months ago, yet his father is filthy rich and is buddies with my boss. Of course, that's the reason. I can't help but cut Scout a side glare.

I worked my ass off for years before I was trusted to retrieve big targets… unlike some people. Evidently, knowing the right people can escalate your seniority at work.

Except this mission isn't about me. I want this target taken down. The guy's been caught red-handed illegally importing and selling animals from different Houses around the globe. There are whispers of him trafficking children as well, but without proof, he was released on bail.

I want him brought in.

The other Houses want him taken down, too, and seeing as he resides in South Africa, in the House of Gold and Garnet and under the reign of King Kaspian, who is personally interested in this case, we have the added pressure of ensuring we don't fuck this up.

Our king controls several countries, though he's located at the headquarters in Reykjavík, Iceland. Our House represents wealth and prestige and is also a place where the largest concentration of mercenaries and bounty hunters can be found. So, if anyone can find a criminal, it's one of us. It's also why so many other Houses around the world hire experts from the House of Gold and Garnet to carry out their dangerous missions.

So, to succeed in this House, you have to be better than the best.

Oblivious to me glaring at him, Scout groans under his breath. "There's something bad about this place. I feel it," he mutters.

I roll my eyes. "Are you letting a bit of fog spook you?"

He shoots me a narrowing stare over his shoulder, almost challenging me, and suddenly, he's moving forward quickly to prove his point that he's not afraid. I chuckle under my breath, and as the last droplets of rain patter against the cobblestones, I speed up my walk along the docks. I feel the weight of a taser on my belt and the blade in my boot.

Approaching A32, my insides tighten like they do on every mission. I scan the building for security cameras… none that I can see.

Even at five foot three with bright aquamarine hair, I'm a storm to be dealt with.

The groaning sounds of the docks fade behind us, replaced by the soft squelch of our shoes against the damp planks.

Pressing my shoulder against the cold, wet wall of the warehouse, I glance over at Scout with a pointed look. I signal for him to move, and he goes left. I go right, each of us slipping through the shadows to check the perimeter.

My pulse is racing frantically on the off chance that I cross paths with Zane, our target. The guy's a hybrid, half horse shifter, half bird. And every inch an asshole for the atrocities he's committed.

On fast feet, I reach the rear of the warehouse, where a looming silhouette of a rusted crane hangs overhead. The air is cold against my skin, the wind picking up and blowing through my ponytail. My breathing is speeding as Scout steps out of the fog, his short hair combed off his face, broad forehead creased, and the edges of his mouth pinched tight with his worry. The guy's in his midthirties, married, and fierce to prove himself, but I don't trust him. Something about him irks me.

"All clear," he whispers, leading to the rear entry into the joint.

Clenching my teeth, I steady my nerves. "Stay close and don't wander off. Got it?"

He nods, his jawline tight. He stands at five-eight, and I can see it in his posture. He hates taking orders from me, but I'm the senior bounty hunter on this mission, so he can go fuck every damn last drop of his ego.

Taking a deep inhale, I reach for the door handle, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal. I ease it open gently, the hinges giving a faint groan that has me freezing for a moment. When no one comes running for us, we slip inside, our movements as silent as the fog outside.

The thing with our job is that most of our time is spent tracking down criminals, sneaking up on them before they know we're onto them. Once they see you, there's only a few seconds to secure the target, or they'll be long gone.

The inside of the warehouse is vast and shadowy, divided by walls into three sections. The one directly in front of us is open-plan and filled with stacked wooden crates. The other two areas lead into opposite rooms. One has the door open, and it's pitch black inside, so I have my gaze swinging on the one to my left. There's a dim light coming out from the ajar door, almost inviting us.

Shivers crawl up my arms, and I pull out my taser, noticing Scout does the same. One zap and we take our target down long enough to pounce on him and tie him up. It's the quickest way to bring him down with minimal damage.

We move steadily, our steps measured and silent, while I scan every dark corner and potential ambush point. Peering through the ajar door, I find a large open space. Five offices are to our left, and the nearby ones seem to store a bunch of cages. It's dark inside, except for the light pouring in through the open doors. Across from the offices stands a small forklift and more crates.

My ears strain for anything that might reveal Zane's presence. Nothing, only the soft creak of the building settling and the escalating wind outside.

I signal for Scout to join me in checking the offices with a flick of my hand, seeing as the rest of the place is open space and not hiding anyone. Step by step, we approach the first office, and inside, there are at least a dozen animal cages tossed inside. There's a feral, powdery, barnyard smell in here, and I scrunch up my nose.

"This is the place. I knew he'd hide in here. I can smell the animals," Scout whispers the obvious, completely contradicting himself from earlier.

I nod and don't bother answering as we move to the first few offices, finding more cages, as if someone has been fast to transport animals through here. My chest tightens at the thought of these monsters hurting innocent animals, propelling me to take Zane down faster.

By the time I reach the fourth office, tension builds. I open the door slowly to a dark room smelling heavily of animals, but there's also a charged electric stink. I can't see anything but a couple of empty cages on the floor, lit by the dim light behind me. The rest of the room is pitch black. Just as I move to step inside, a sharp, unmistakable sound slices through the silence behind us.

I freeze, then spin around in the doorway, expecting to find Zane. Instead, I catch sight of Scout making a quick dash across the warehouse area. He's near crates and a forklift, heading for another office door I'd missed.

"Scout, what are you doing?" I whisper, but he doesn't respond.

I barely have a moment to process this when another sound grabs my attention, coming from the front door of the building. My gaze shoots in that direction to my far left as the door lets out a drawn-out groan that pierces through the space.

I dart into the office, swallowed by shadows. Crouching in the darkness near the doorway, I leave it slightly ajar to watch who's entering. I peer out quickly to Scout, who's fiddling with the locked door.

I'm going to murder him. Idiot. If he fucks up this important mission for me, I'm going to be pissed.

My heart pounds against my ribs. Scout suddenly lunges to hide behind the forklift just as the front door swings fully open. Jerking back into the confines of the shadows, crouching low, I watch a tall man stride into the warehouse. His black coat flutters around him like he has the wings of a dark angel, his steps determined and fast. The keys in his hand jingle, and his black hair is drawn back.

Except that's not Zane.

Crap! Did we miss him, or is he already somewhere in the building?

Instead of heading toward my hiding place, the stranger veers into the next office over—the one I haven't checked yet. Part of me breathes easier, grateful he's not on a collision course with Scout. My plan is to wait and see if Zane appears.

As I steady my rapid breathing, the smallest sound, a faint shuffle, catches my attention. It's close, too close. Heart in my throat, my gaze darts around the dark room I'm in, when the sound comes again.

Fuck.

I'm not alone in the room.

Adrenaline surges through me. I can't believe I didn't search the area properly before throwing myself in here. I blame Scout for distracting me with his stupidity. With my back to the wall, I reach for the small flashlight I keep with my house keys.

With a cautious flick, light sputters to life, casting a weak beam across the room. Except it's not just any room—I've stumbled into a lab.

The beam dances over shelves packed with jars containing murky liquids and powders. Along the length of the room runs a long table cluttered with all kinds of scientific equipment, while on the floor, cages are haphazardly stacked. Their bars imprison animals that we're here to stop Zane from trafficking. Tiny eyes stare back at me. A pair of green squirrels, twitching nervously, three-legged frogs with small horns. The poor things were terrified, stuck in a metal cage, too scared to even move. But they don't look harmed, which is good.

When I rise up from my crouched position, another cage with an animal on the table catches my attention. It's small, curled up, its fur patchy, skin marked with splotches of raw, irritated flesh. The creature's eyes meet mine, filled with pain and fear. It whimpers softly.

It's an otter.

The acrid smell of chemicals becomes more distinct now, more disturbing.

As I stand there, the ache in my heart deepens as I stare at the otter, leaving me completely devastated for the little thing being tested on. I've always had a soft spot for animals, caring for strays and volunteering at shelters. So, the sight in front of me stirs a deep anger that drowns out the earlier tension of the hunt. I now want to really hurt Zane and his accomplices.

Still huddled in the corner of his cage, the otter's terrified eyes stay locked on mine as it trembles uncontrollably. Tears prick my eyes while fire burns my chest. As I step toward the trembling otter, intent on easing its fear, the room suddenly erupts with a sound like thunder. A spark explodes, and I sense the sharp bite of magic coursing up my arms.

I flinch back, heart pounding against my ribs, fearing I've accidentally triggered a trap. Before I can even begin to make sense of what's happening, a loud click resonates through the room, eerily similar to the sound of a gas oven igniting.

In seconds, flames shoot up from the base of all the walls in the room, racing upward as if the walls are lined with kindling. Heat engulfs me instantly, the heavy stench suffocating.

Panic throttles me, and I'm shaking furiously. I stumble backward, my head spinning with dread and confusion. The heat intensifies, slamming into me like a physical blow while the cries of the animals in their cages pierce through the chaos.

From the doorway, I desperately scan the warehouse. Fire is climbing the walls out there, too, a monstrous, ravenous entity consuming the building. It's clear something triggered the inferno… was it me?

Through the growing blaze, I spot Scout in the open doorway of the other office across from me, and I know instantly the disaster is his fault. The door handle is half hanging near him, a clear sign of forced entry into a room locked and secured by a purge trigger. He's stumbling forward as the wall behind him catches in flames.

"Idiot!"

Break into the office, hit the trigger, and the whole place lights up, destroying every bit of evidence and potentially killing anyone inside to cover Zane's tracks.

Anger and fear drum through me. We need to get out… now!

Before I take a step forward, Zane races into the warehouse from the rear of the building, a massive figure with a handlebar mustache that does nothing to soften his bulldozer- like appearance. He rushes toward the front door, screaming out something about collecting some files. I assume he's screaming at his friend in the other office.

Shit!

That's when his gaze swings in Scout's direction, then mine, finally spotting us… the intruders.

"Son of a bitch, fucking bounty hunters," he growls, and he's suddenly bolting to the front door as his buddy emerges from the other office, looking terrified with panic twisting his features.

I'm running after them in a second flat, even while the fire grows fast, too fast. The place is going to collapse in seconds. With my taser extended, I shoot, needing to slow him, but despite his size, he dodges with surprising agility. Scout's there, and the heat is becoming unbearable, my throat raw, my nostrils stinging from the smoke.

"Stop them," I yell out at Scout as the wall to one of the offices shatters, collapsing with a tremendous thud near the forklift. It's also when the heartbreaking sound of cries behind me stops me in my tracks. The animals, still trapped in their cages, grab my attention, their actions growing more frantic the worse the fire inflames.

Zane and his friend dart outside the front door, Scout on their heels.

"Sasha, hurry the fuck up," he yells, then he's gone.

I know this is my chance to catch Zane, that he can't get away from us, but I glance back, my insides aching at the sounds of the animals crying, knowing they will die.

I promised myself that when someone's in need, I'd always help them, and it goes double for animals. For a split second, everything else fades—the heat, the smoke, the collapsing building—and I'm consumed by the urgency to save innocent animals.

Ignoring the searing pain on my skin and the smoke scorching my lungs, I dash back into the lab room. I can't leave them here, not like this. I reach the cages just as the walls around us begin to crackle and spit larger flames. The metal bars are hot to the touch, and I wince as I grab them, but the urgency pushes me forward.

"I've got you. Just please don't try to escape from me," I coo to the critters in the cages on the floor. "I need to get you all out of here, please," I whisper. All cradled in my arms, I set them on the lab table. Despite the walls on fire and feeling like we've entered hell itself, they stay close.

Turning my attention to the otter, still curled up in the cage, whining, I flick open the lock and wrench the door open. The poor thing whimpers and shrieks back.

"Come on, little one, I just want to help. Don't bite me, okay, and I promise to get you out."

Just then, a deafening sound erupts behind me. I twist my head as a crumbling wall outside the room collapses under the assault of the fire. With no time to hesitate, I stick my hand into the cage deeper, reaching for the critter. With a gentle, quick swoop, I scoop him into my hand and cradle him against my chest. I collect the other small animals as my heart shatters at their vulnerability.

I lunge outside the room, only to find the front doorway to the warehouse blocked. Half the wall falls away from the structure. Despite shaking and feeling like I'm burning alive, I dart toward the rear entry, cowering forward to shield the animals in my arms. A plank of wood crashes down not far from me, and I scream, flinching back instinctively.

The crackle of fire intensifies, deafening me. The heat is unbearable, and my throat burns with every breath I take. Dodging the flaming debris, I run like a maniac toward the rear door… just as a great explosive creak sounds behind me.

I burst out the back door, stumbling into the cool air as I suck it into my starved lungs. I'm choking frantically. Behind me, part of the roof caves in, and I dart farther away from the building that's coming down fast. Sirens wail in the distance from what I assume are firemen coming to put out the flames.

My mind races, terrified at how close to disaster I came. I check on the little guys in my arms, who are all cradled close and silent with huge eyes. So, I turn my attention to finding Zane and Scout.

The foggy, cool air is sharp against my heated skin while my arms tighten around the small, trembling bodies of the six critters.

The docks are obscured by fog and shadows, the aftermath of the fire casting everything in ash and harsh, surreal light. As I hurry away from the collapsing building, my heart thunders with desperation and anger. The animals cradled in my arms are quiet, their small bodies shaking against me.

I pass a hulking ship, its massive hull throwing long, dark shadows across the wooden planks of the dock. It's there, in a dark spot, that I find Scout sprawled on his back.

"Scout, are you okay?" I call out, dropping to my knees beside him as he groans, a hand reaching up to his face as he tries to sit up. Blood trickles from his mouth, and one eye is already swelling shut, coloring with the dark purple of a severe bruise. "What the hell happened?" I ask, scanning him for more injuries. We're trained to handle ourselves in any situation—to fight and defend.

"The question is, where the fuck were you?" he snarls. "You're supposed to have my back." His voice is rough with pain and fury. "We could have had Zane, but what?" His gaze lowers to the animals in my arms. "You saved those fucking things but let the criminal escape? You made us lose him."

"Me? You went against my orders and opened that damn office, tripping the purge trigger."

He sighs, his good eye closing, not even hearing me, yet his accusation leaves me furious.

"These animals are innocent. Last time I looked, we're not monsters… well, at least not me."

Scout pushes himself to his feet, wincing with every movement. "You compromised the mission."

"Shut the hell up. Now, which way did Zane go?"

He shrugs. "How the fuck should I know? After he turned into a horse and kicked me, I almost passed out. I could have died because of your dumb decision." He's practically shouting at his stage, his face shaking with fury.

Sure, I feel horrible for him, but him blaming me is not gaining him any brownie points.

"Sometimes, being a hero means deciding who needs saving the most. So, I made the choice," I retort.

Silence stretches between us as he glares in my direction. Shuffling the animals to be cradled in one arm, I offer him my free hand to help him, but he knocks it aside and limps down the docks.

Great! Sighing heavily, I just know this is going to come back and bite me hard in the ass.

" W ait, are you serious?" My voice shoots up an octave as I lean forward in my seat, staring across the desk at my boss. Mr. Daniels is the epitome of a fitness fanatic, his slick hair and sharply tailored suit giving him an air of unapproachable perfection. His fae ears peek out just enough to hint at his magical heritage, though he plays it down, never really owning up to coming from a powerful family of fae.

"It's for the best, Sasha. Consider it a new start," he replies with that smoothness that I'm starting to loathe. He takes a sip from his cup of special mushroom tea, which he swears is the elixir of life or something. In the corner of the room stands his fancy bicycle, leaning against the wall, reminding everyone of his healthy lifestyle. Most days, I can ignore his arrogance. Today, I'm pissed.

I blink, my mind racing. "I haven't had a chance to put my report in about Zane, but?—"

"It's not needed," he interrupts, setting down the cup with a grimace as if the tea tastes like hell. "Scout filled me in, and considering you didn't bring Zane back with you, it now puts me in a very compromising situation because we promised to have him caught. But now, he's on the run, probably gone into deep hiding."

I pinch my lips together, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Trust Scout to run straight to the boss before I even had a chance to get into the office and explain. The moment I arrived, I headed downstairs, submitting the animals I'd saved to animal handlers for safe transport to ensure they are returned to their original country.

"So, because Scout, who decided to turn a simple capture mission into an episode of Let's Trigger Every Alarm Possible , gave you his version of the story, I'm getting relocated? And here I was, thinking we were supposed to work as a team!"

My boss scowls, yet his expression is surprisingly heavy with resignation.

"The issue is that your priority was the target, not the animals, and you let him escape. Scout is still new, and he needed your backup to take him down. So, you made a huge mistake in your choice today, which unfortunately is going to cost you."

The room feels smaller suddenly, the walls closing in as the reality of his words sinks in. Even his framed motivational posters on the walls, screaming about teamwork and vision, now silently mock me.

Swallowing hard, I shift uncomfortably in my seat across the desk from Mr. Daniels. I don't regret saving those animals from the fire. My conscience wouldn't have allowed me to walk away, but that burning side of me flares up, a mix of anger and injustice.

Staring at him, a desperate urgency curls up inside me that I'm being sent away from the team I've worked with for the past five years, from my friends in the place, not to mention the embarrassment of being kicked out.

"I've never failed a mission before," I begin, hating that I'm sounding more desperate than I want to reveal to my boss. Weakness isn't a trait suitable for bounty hunters, but I'm fuming at Scout, dreading to find out where I'm going to be sent. I'm picturing some small office in the middle of an isolated town, tucked away like a broken artifact.

He sighs, leaning back in his leather chair. "My manager is now asking for an explanation on how such a straightforward mission went awry, and I can't let your failure taint this department."

"But… I should never have been paired with Scout. He's a newb," I argue, the words tumbling out in a rush.

"You're not seeing the real issue here, and that's the problem. You put your personal feelings before the greater good of Prime Bonds Recovery, and that makes you a liability and untrustworthy."

My mouth falls open, his words striking like a punch to my solar plexus.

"I-I've put years into this, brought in so many targets, and this one time, I didn't catch my target…" My mouth dries, my chest tightening.

His shoulders soften slightly as he leans back in, his folded arms on the desk in front of him.

"Look, I'm sorry, Sasha, but management is fuming, and they want to see heads roll over this as King Kaspian himself wants results. The best I could do was get you transferred instead of losing your job. Prove yourself with a clean record, then we can relook at you coming back after twelve months in Norway."

Twelve months! Norway! Reality hits me like a blow, and I almost fall out of my seat, shock jarring through me. I manage to steady myself, gripping the arms of my chair and forcing myself to breathe.

"Norway," I echo, the word tasting sour on my tongue. "A whole year?"

"Yes." He nods, his gaze unwavering. "It was a tough situation negotiating with the team there, but it's a chance to really prove that you can prioritize and handle big cases again. Think of it as… a test of your dedication."

I narrow my gaze at how mocking and condescending he sounds. Years of loyalty meant nothing to this company!

I'm mindlessly fiddling with the gold bracelet on my wrist, a charm in the shape of rolling waves joining the chains around my wrist. Unlike most who wear family crests in the form of pendants, charms, or rings, I chose this design myself for the peace it brings me. Now, it feels like a cruel reminder of how quickly life can change, how everything I value can be ripped away without warning. It brings back memories of losing my parents and the realization that, once again, I have no control over my life.

As much as I'd love to quit on the spot and storm out, I'm not exactly swimming in riches, and I don't have any inheritance from my parents.

But maybe I'm looking at this wrong. It's been over a year since Billie, my BFF, moved away to Finland, drawn by the pull of her fated mates, and Norway is a damn lot closer to Finland than South Africa is. I grasp onto that beacon of hope while I feel like I'm drowning. Up on my feet from the seat, I stumble toward the door, feeling dizzy.

"Sasha," Mr. Daniels calls out. "Make me proud. I know you will do great in Norway. Just don't get distracted. Oh, and the team there will be sending me regular updates on your progress."

I exhale loudly at being treated like a newb. My anger simmers, and I hate the tears stinging my eyes from the fuckery of the day.

"Thanks," I mutter bitterly as I push the door open. The large open office in front of me is bustling with staff, and most are avoiding looking at me. Which means they all know. Of course they do.

Fucking Scout. I spot him across the room, two desks down from where mine used to be. He's laughing with someone but glances my way with the widest grin. I curl my hands into fists, furious that he got me relocated. I want to rip that damn smirk off his face. Rage and betrayal boil over as I glare at the man who cost me so much, yet he walks away unscathed.

All because of one mission, because I chose compassion over cold duty.

Fuck you, Scout!