The tunnels beneath the estate were cold and damp, carved deep into the earth long before you were born. Your boots splashed through shallow puddles as you ran after your mother’s final whispered instructions repeated over and over in your head.

Don’t stop. Don’t look back. Live.

Your scent flooded the narrow passage despite every effort to control it. Fear. Grief. Omega distress. You hated it. Hated how your body betrayed every emotion when weakness in your father’s world was something predators scented like blood in water.

The silver pendant dug into your palm as you clutched it tightly.

Your mother’s pendant.

The only thing she had left from a life before Vladimir Makarov.

You nearly stumbled when a distant sound echoed through the tunnels above. Heavy boots. Men shouting in Russian.

Your father’s soldiers.

Panic tightened your chest.

Then you saw the light ahead.

A rusted steel door creaked open before you could reach it, and a tall figure stepped through the shadows.

“Nakonets-to.” Finally.

The alpha standing there looked like something pulled from one of your mother’s old spy novels. Broad shoulders strained beneath a dark tactical jacket, a rifle slung across his back with casual familiarity. A thick beard framed his sharp mouth, streaks of silver cutting through the dark hair near his temples. His blue eyes locked onto yours instantly—sharp, assessing, but not cruel.

Dangerous.

But not like your father.

Never like him.

“Nikolai?” your voice came out smaller than you intended.

His expression softened just slightly.

“Yes, malen’kaya mysh.” Little mouse.

God, his voice.

Deep. Rough. Warm in a way that made your racing heart stutter.

And his scent—

Smoke, cedar, cold winter air, and something steady beneath it all that wrapped around your frightened omega instincts like a heavy blanket. Safe. Strong. Protective.

You swayed before catching yourself, overwhelmed from stress and exhaustion.

Nikolai noticed immediately.

“Easy,” he murmured, stepping forward carefully like one might approach a frightened animal. “You are safe with me now.”

Safe.

You almost cried hearing those words.

Almost.

Instead you lifted your chin stubbornly, trying to hold onto some dignity despite the tears burning your eyes. “My mother said you would help me.”

“She was right.”

Gunfire cracked faintly somewhere above the tunnels.

Nikolai’s entire demeanor changed instantly. The warmth remained, but now you saw why people feared him. Every movement became sharp and precise as he grabbed your bag and moved to your side.

“We go. Now.”

He guided you through the final corridor with one hand hovering near your back but never forcing you forward. Protective without controlling. The difference was so unfamiliar it made your chest ache.

Outside, snow whipped across the hidden airfield beyond the forest. A helicopter waited with rotors slowly turning, the sound deafening against the quiet wilderness.

You hesitated.

Russia stretched behind you in darkness.

Your mother was still there.

Nikolai stopped beside you, reading the conflict all over your face.

“You wish to go back,” he said quietly.

“My mama is still in that house.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “And if you return, Makarov will cage you beside her.”

Your breathing shook.

“He’ll use you, little mouse. Omegas are power to men like him. A daughter of his blood?” Nikolai looked toward the distant estate with visible disgust. “You will never belong to yourself.”

The words hit hard because deep down, you knew they were true.

Nikolai crouched slightly then, bringing himself closer to your level without towering over you.

“Listen to me carefully.” His voice lowered. “Your mother asked me to protect you with my life. I gave her my word.”

His gloved hand gently closed over yours, careful around the pendant still clenched in your fingers.

“And I do not break my promises.”

The possessive part of your omega instincts practically melted at the certainty in his tone.

Not ownership.

Protection.

There was a difference.

Another distant shout echoed through the trees.