Mara's boots echoed against the cracked linoleum of the precinct as she made her way past the maze of desks in a barely contained fury, each step measured and deliberate. The familiar cacophony of ringing phones, ccking keyboards, and muffled conversations filled the air, but she caught the subtle shift in volume when officers noticed her approach. Some conversations died entirely. Others grew deliberately louder, as if to prove they weren't talking about her. They probably knew just as well as she what her meeting with Morrison had been about.

  She'd grown used to it over the years. The sideways gnces, the whispered specution, the careful distance her colleagues maintained. Being the NYPD's first acknowledged lycanthrope had made her something between a curiosity and a pariah. Most days, she could ignore it. Today, with IA breathing down her neck once again, felt different. The moon was still three days off, but she could feel the familiar restlessness crawling under her skin like static electricity.

  "Soto." Sergeant Rodriguez's voice cut through her thoughts. He was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "Got someone asking for you specifically in Interview Two."

  Mara paused, one hand resting on her hip near her service weapon. "What kind of someone?"

  "The kind that makes my teeth itch," Rodriguez said, which was his way of saying he didn't like whatever was waiting for her. "Came in about an hour ago, walked right up to the desk and asked for Detective Mara Soto by name. Wouldn't talk to anyone else. Wouldn't even give us his real name at first."

  "At first?"

  "Says his name is Riven. No st name. British accent, looks like he crawled out of a dumpster behind CBGB." Rodriguez's expression darkened. "Thing is, Soto, he knew things. About you. About the unit. Things civilians shouldn't know."

  The restlessness under Mara's skin sharpened into something closer to arm. She kept her expression neutral, but her nostrils fred slightly, unconsciously trying to catch a scent through the precinct's cocktail of coffee, cleaning chemicals, and too many bodies in too small a space.

  "What kind of things?"

  "The kind that makes me think you should have backup in there." Rodriguez straightened, his hand moving instinctively toward his weapon. "I can sit in if you want."

  Mara considered it. Protocol would suggest backup, especially given the ongoing Internal Affairs review of her record. Every interaction she had was being scrutinized, every decision questioned. But something about Rodriguez's description sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with policy and everything to do with the wolf that lived beneath her skin.

  "No," she said finally. "I'll handle it. But keep an ear out."

  Rodriguez nodded, though he didn't look happy about it. "He's cuffed to the table. Standard precaution."

  Mara made her way down the narrow hallway to the interview rooms, each step feeling heavier than the st. The scent hit her before she reached the door… something wild and familiar that made her wolf pace restlessly. It was a smell that belonged to forests and running under starlight, not to the sterile confines of a police station.

  She paused outside Interview Room Two, hand on the doorknob, and took a steadying breath. Through the one-way gss, she could see him.

  He was younger than she'd expected, maybe early thirties, with dark hair that looked like it had been cut with a knife and several days' worth of stubble. His clothes were a study in deliberate rebellion…ripped jeans, a faded t-shirt under a battered leather jacket, combat boots that had seen actual combat. He sat slouched in the metal chair with the kind of casual arrogance that suggested handcuffs were more of an accessory than a restraint.

  But it was his eyes that made her hesitate. Even through the gss, even with the distance between them, she could see they were the same golden amber as her own. Quickly, everything made sense, the unease, the smell… everything. It was a fellow Lycan, and not one she knew from the pack. Forcing a confrontation here, far from the influence of the Alpha, was no accident.

  Mara pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  "Detective Soto, I presume?" His accent was indeed British, but not the posh kind Americans expected. This was working-css London, rough around the edges and sharpened by years of attitude. "Took you long enough, luv. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

  "I don't know you," Mara said, closing the door behind her and remaining standing. The wolf in her was on high alert now, hackles metaphorically raised. Something about this man set every instinct she had on edge.

  "Don't you though?" Riven leaned back in his chair, the handcuff chain clinking against the metal table. "I know you after all. I mean, we've never been properly introduced, but we have met before. Under rather dramatic circumstances, if I recall correctly."

  Mara kept her expression neutral, but her mind was racing. The scent, the eyes, the way he moved even while restrained… it all added up to something impossible. Something she'd spent two years trying not to think about. A shadow that itched her subconscious, that made her skin crawl. She wasn’t about to let him know it, however.

  "I think you have me confused with someone else." Mara’s voice was cool, even… calmer than she felt.

  "Oh, I don't think so, Detective." Riven's smile was sharp, predatory. "It was a few years back now. October 15th, to be precise. You were on a ride-along with SWAT. Nasty business, that. All those good officers torn to killed. Except you, of course. You survived."

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Mara's hand moved instinctively toward her weapon, though she didn't draw it. "How do you know about that?"

  "Because I was there, luv.” Riven’s smile grew ever wider, fshing his teeth. “We weren’t expecting company that day, let alone you blokes in blue, but me and me mates… improvised, but you were tougher than anyone believed… didn’t die with the rest. Were changed. Changed because of me. I'm the one who made you what you are."

  The words hit her like a physical blow. For two years, she'd lived with the memory of that night – the warehouse, the screams, the smell of blood and fear. She remembered being thrown against a wall, remembered cws and teeth and pain, remembered waking up in a hospital bed three days ter forever changed. But the creature that had attacked them had been a blur of shadow and violence. She'd never gotten a clear look at its face.

  "You're lying."

  "Am I?" Riven tilted his head, studying her with those unsettling amber eyes. "You want proof? Your first transformation was November 12th, exactly twenty-eight days ter. Full moon. You were in your apartment in Park Slope, trying to pretend everything was normal. But it wasn't normal, was it, Mara? It was beautiful."

  She could feel her control slipping, the wolf responding to the memory of that first change. The terror, yes, but also the freedom. The power. The feeling of being truly alive for the first time in her life.

  "Why?" The word came out rougher than she intended. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Because you've been wasting your gift, luv. Pying house with that pathetic excuse for a pack you've collected. Taking in strays like you're running some sort of supernatural halfway house." His voice carried a mocking tone that made her want to bare her teeth. “Where are your standards? Your pride?”

  The fact that he knew about her pack – her family – sent ice through her veins. "You've been watching me."

  "Of course I have. You're my greatest work. My masterpiece. Did you really think I'd just walk away and forget about you?" Riven leaned forward as much as the handcuffs would allow. "I've watched you py cop for years, watched you try to fit into their little human world. Watched you hold yourself back, deny what you really are."

  "I know exactly what I am."

  "Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, you look like a pdog trying to convince herself she's still wild." His grin widened, showing teeth that seemed just a little too sharp. "When was the st time you really ran, Mara? When was the st time you hunted something that could fight back? When was the st time you let yourself be free?"

  "I am free." But even as she said it, she could feel the lie in the words. The constant control, the careful monitoring of her emotions, the way she had to hold back her strength, her speed, her senses, none of that felt like freedom.

  "Are you? Then why are your precious colleagues reviewing your record? Why are they questioning whether a lycanthrope deserves commendations for heroism?" Riven's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "They'll never accept you, you know. Not really. You'll always be the monster they're afraid might snap."

  Mara's jaw tightened. The Internal Affairs review was supposed to be confidential. "How do you,"

  "Know about that? I know a lot of things, luv. I know Detective Bradley thinks you're an abomination. I know Lieutenant Chen loses sleep wondering if you're going to lose control and hurt someone. I know they're all just waiting for an excuse to put you down like a rabid dog."

  "You don't know anything about my colleagues."

  "Don't I? Tell me, Mara, what happened to your partner? Detective Raphael Moralez. Good man, by all accounts. Devoted husband, father of two. What was it, a year and a half ago? Two years? Caught a bullet during what should have been a routine drug bust."

  The mention of Raph's name hit her like a sp. Mara's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Don't."

  "Tragic, really. The way he died. The way you bmed yourself. Then again, you never should have left him with the car… injured… helpless… lying in the street." Riven's voice was silk over steel. "Except it wasn't really random, was it? I was there that night too, luv. Circled back around while you were chasing shadows in that factory."

  The world seemed to tilt around her. "What?"

  "He was holding you back. Making you soft. Making you think you needed human companionship, human validation. Doing what they all were… domesticating you." Riven shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

  "I did what needed to be done. Freed you from that weakness."

  Mara could feel the wolf surging forward, feel her vision sharpening, her muscles coiling for violence. "You killed him."

  "I liberated you. Though I'll admit, I expected you to embrace what you are after that. Instead, you went and found yourself a new pack of misfits to coddle. Disappointing, really."

  "I should kill you." The words came out as barely more than a growl.

  "But you won't. Because you're still pying by their rules, still trying to be one of the good guys." Riven's smile was infuriating in its certainty. "You want to know what real freedom looks like, Mara? What it means to live without their ws, their expectations, their judgment?"

  "No."

  "Too bad. I'm going to show you anyway."

  Before Mara could react, Riven smmed his face forward into the metal table with a sickening crack. Blood exploded from his nose, spattering across the scratched surface.

  "Help!" he screamed, his voice carrying clearly through the thin walls. "She's attacking me! The monster's attacking me!"

  Mara lunged forward instinctively, but Riven threw himself sideways, the handcuff chain pulling taut as he crashed into the edge of the table. Another spray of blood, this time from his temple.

  "Please! Someone help me! She's going to kill me!"

  "Stop!" Mara grabbed for him, trying to prevent him from hurting himself further, but he twisted away from her touch.

  The door burst open. Rodriguez charged in with two uniformed officers, weapons drawn, faces grim with the expectation of violence. They found Mara standing over Riven, who was slumped against the table, blood streaming from his nose and a gash on his forehead.

  "What the hell happened?" Rodriguez demanded, his gun trained somewhere between Mara and the bleeding man.

  "He did it to himself," Mara said, but she could hear how weak it sounded. How impossible.

  Riven lifted his head with obvious effort, one eye already swelling shut. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, pitched perfectly to carry the weight of genuine terror.

  "She... she just snapped. Started hitting me, said I knew too much about her precious pack." He coughed, specks of blood hitting the table. "Said she was going to make sure I never talked. Please… you have to help me."

  "That's not what happened," Mara said, but she could see the doubt creeping into Rodriguez's eyes. Could smell it on him.

  "I tried to tell her I didn't know anything, but she kept asking about her partner. About someone named Raphael." Riven's voice broke convincingly. "She said... she said she should have let the wolf loose that night. That her partner would still be alive if she'd been a real monster instead of pretending to be human."

  The words were like acid in Mara's chest. Not just because they were lies, but because there was enough truth in them to cut deep. How many times had she wondered if Raph would be alive if she'd been faster, stronger, more willing to use her abilities?

  "Soto, step away from the suspect." Rodriguez's voice was carefully neutral, professional, but she could hear the underlying tension. The fear.

  "Sarge, you know me. You know I wouldn't,"

  "Step away from the suspect. Now."

  Mara looked around the room at the faces of her colleagues. Men and women she'd worked with for years, people she'd trusted with her life. She saw doubt in their eyes, suspicion, the careful calcution of people wondering if they'd ever really known her at all. She could see others outside the door, their weapons out and pointed at her, like they had been waiting for this chance.

  And through it all, Riven watched her with those golden eyes, blood still dripping from his face, his smile never quite disappearing despite the damage he'd done to himself.

  "This is what freedom looks like, luv," he said, his voice so quiet only she could hear it. "This is what happens when you try to live in their world. They'll always see you as the monster. The only question is whether you'll finally start acting like one."

  Mara slowly raised her hands and stepped back from the table. Around her, she could feel the careful structure of the life she'd built beginning to crumble. The respect she'd earned, the trust she'd cultivated, the fragile acceptance she'd fought so hard for… all of it hanging by a thread that Riven had just cut with surgical precision.

  "There's a good girl," he whispered, and his smile was sharp enough to cut.