Page 63 of Property of Crypt Keeper

Not expecting him to actually tell me that, I frowned.

“Who?”

His eyes slowly lifted. “Rafael,” he murmured quietly before glancing around as if he expected Rafael to slide out of the woodwork.

Everything inside me stopped. No.

No.

No.

Because Rafael trained me. Taught me. Took a sixteen-year-old demon filled with grief and rage and turned her into a weapon—turned me into what I’d become. He gave me skills, purpose, structure. And I had respected him because I believed he had nothing to gain except helping me become stronger to join in a cause near and dear to my heart.

The eradication of werewolves—the one creature that could induce a slow and painful death to a demon.

Then, suddenly I had one horrible thought. Maybe Gideon was never the target. Maybe I was always meant to walk into this.

And beside me—Gideon went terrifyingly motionless.

16

CRYPT KEEPER

I woke before Katalina. For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, not moving. Not thinking. Just feeling—sensing.

The room was quiet except for the slow rhythm of breathing beside me and the distant hum of motorcycles outside somewhere on the clubhouse grounds. Katalina was half-curled against me beneath the sheets, with one hand resting loosely against my chest.

Dark hair spread across the pillow. One leg tangled with mine.

Warm. Soft. Real.

My wolf was awake immediately. But not restless. Not agitated. Not pacing beneath my skin wanting out. Content. Completely fucking content. Which bothered me.

A lot.

Because my thoughts started moving to the other moving piece in this game. Zara.

Smaller restraints.

Experiments.

Rafael.

Katalina.

Then—mine. The thought hit hard enough to tighten my chest. I frowned at the ceiling. No. Absolutely not.

Yet it wasn’t only toward Katalina.

It was Zara too—and that thought should’ve felt like sheer insanity. Should’ve been out of place. Because I’d known the kid less than a damn week.

Less than a week.

But Hack’s results replayed through my head. DNA close to yours. Not sibling. Not niece. Not immediate family. Not anything that made sense. How? How the hell was that even possible?

My arm tightened unconsciously around Katalina. Her body shifted slightly. Not enough to wake, but enough that her face pressed closer against my chest. She breathed deeply but remained dead to the world.

And my wolf practically sighed. I rolled my eyes. Then, I looked down at her sleeping face. The sharp edges she wore while awake disappeared in sleep. No guarded eyes. No sarcasm. No deadly assassin or skilled huntress.