Even after somewhat adjusting to the new environment, Arman refused to drop his guard. He kept his head down, he did what was asked of him, and he avoided trouble at any cost. He did not just have to fear 'welcome' rituals from his fellow inmates who might hold a grudge against him for something business-related: he also had to fear anybody who suspected he was a rat for the FBI. It was completely understandable. Anyone in prison knew that their information could still be used against them. A simple conversation with a cellmate could be the reason someone didn't get parole.
However, above all else, Arman felt vulnerable because of his status. Although werewolves weren't exactly unknown in society, they were certainly still targets. It was somewhat ironic that having enhanced strength and the ability to turn into a wolf made someone more vulnerable. Many people, especially those with great wealth, sought werewolves for their personal gain. Lycanthropy was genetic; there was no way to 'turn' anybody, contrary to fiction. But many people still insisted on harvesting blood and organs for scientific experiments to see if it was possible to induce it in humans. The closest they had gotten was triggering the gene in the child of a human and werewolf, something that ordinarily had a fifty-fifty chance of happening naturally. The other use for werewolf blood was its healing properties in humans, something that he had offered to Thony for Luca more times than he should have. It had been particularly problematic at a time when Hayak regularly took donations of blood from him and Nadia for his protection; Arman had nearly passed out because of how much he'd already given to Thony. They were thankfully past that stage now, but there was every reason to believe someone might try to ask for his blood in a business deal again. Most werewolves ended up in the criminal world or in dehumanising environments where their superiors treated them with the same dignity as dogs. Society was cruel to werewolves. Despite an increase in legal recognition and protection, many employers still subtly discriminated against werewolves, never favouring them in the hiring proces.
So, Arman had many reasons to keep looking over his shoulder as he mopped his assigned area of the prison kitchen. He had to keep his cool to try to prevent anybody from knowing about his status. Turning into a werewolf was a voluntary action; it was not correlated with full moons or hormones or animalistic desires — just strong, usually negative, emotions. If he got too angry, too upset, too anxious, his body would go through the motions, and it was usually quite difficult to stop the turning process once it had started. Hopefully, if nobody confronted Arman, he would be safe until Nadia figured out a way to get him out. He needed to get back home to her, especially since her status made her vulnerable, too. Everything was less daunting if they stuck together. They didn't have anybody else in their corner, and he needed to remember that. As much as he wanted to help Thony, she brought too much risk to them, and he needed to set a boundary. He just hoped he would be able to follow through on that when he got out.
"Morales," a voice called with a sneer. He knew the bastard it belonged to: Davis, who was behind bars for a meth lab. Arman paid him no mind.
Davis called his name again and again, and it was only when he forcefully grabbed his shoulder to make him turn around that Arman looked at him. Someone else was next to Davis, standing a little too close for comfort.
"What do you want?" Arman panicked a little as his voice came out with more of a growl than intended. Clearly, repressing his stress was helping him conceal his identity.
"Rumour has it you're special. You see, I got a bet here with Johnson that I can prove you're not like everybody else in here."
Davis came close enough that Arman could smell his vile breath. He was sure even without the heightened senses, it would disgust him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arman bluffed, trying to keep his breathing steady. The calmer he stayed, the less likely he was for anything physical to be triggered.
Johnson's hands gripped his shoulders fiercely and suddenly, making Arman instinctively spin around and shove him away. This time, there was no explanation for the snarl that left his throat. He also knew his eyes had shifted from deep brown to an illuminated amber, and that was what made Johnson fearful, to Arman's slight pride, but also intrigued. Werewolves were very much a minority: some people went their entire life without knowingly interacting with one, let alone seeing them turn.
Arman kept glancing between them, hoping to anticipate their next move.
"Oh, is the little bitch scared?" Johnson mocked.
His cheek twitched as he clung to his slipping control. This was not the time to prove himself. He needed to de-escalate. Just as most people here didn't know Arman was a werewolf, Arman didn't know whether anybody else was, either. This could be a giant trap to make him turn and then face off against a pack of wolves who were lying in wait.
Then suddenly, it was all so clear to him. The guards were nowhere to be seen. The lights on all the security cameras were off. He could sense that there were more than three people in this room.
"Why don't we cut the crap, Davis? What do you want?"
"I'm just the messenger, Morales." He cocked his head to the side. "They're the ones who want to talk."
As he looked towards where he'd indicated, he noticed Johnson was opening the door to a small, dark storage room. Three glowing pairs of eyes looked back at him.
He knew in this moment that hiding was no longer an option.
His intense fear made the change process feel effortless. Teeth and nails sharpened, eyes shifted to give him a better view of the shadowy corners of the room, bones moved beneath his skin, the abrupt pace tore the offensively orange jumpsuit, and fur slowly started to cover his skin.
Despite having turned fast enough that Arman was sure it was a personal best, the three wolves attacking him had already made it over. Arman did his best to shake them off, standing defensively and baring his teeth, no longer restraining his barks and growls. It was all instinct; this might scare a human, but it merely amused the other werewolves. It was a level playing field if he considered each wolf one-to-one. They were pretty close in size to him. But there were three of them and one of him, and that was a problem. More than that, they were strategic in their approach. They weren't common thugs; they knew the most vulnerable spots and the angles to use that were just outside of his peripheral vision. Still, Arman would not take this lying down. If they wanted a fight, then they were going to get one.
But as the claw made contact with his skin, not just scratching the surface but penetrating deeply to inflict serious harm, Arman realised that these men were not here to hurt him: they were here to kill him.
Arman had never known jealousy until he had become forced to see Robert Kamdar day in and day out as he and Nadia paid off his debt to him. Why did it have to be Kamdar, of all people? It especially didn't help that Kamdard made a point of reminding Arman that Nadia was married to him first whenever he could. What frustrated Arman even more was that Nadia didn't seem to have a problem with it. Kamdar was charming her with his manipulative ways, and it was plain to see she was falling for it. Sure, he couldn't deny his bias against Kamdar, but he could certainly insist that he was still doing this to protect her. Kamdar had been abusive to her. He had taken advantage of a young girl who reached for the stars and yearned for a life better than her own, and no matter how much he was helping them now, Arman would never, ever, forget that. Nor would he let Nadia forget that, especially because the two of them shared something that, to Arman's pride, Kamdar could never even try to live up to.
But he was tired of Kamdar's Jekyll-and-Hyde act. When Nadia was around, Kamdar was kind, generous and charming. The second she left, he became a cruel, sadistic man who had clear intentions of seeing how much fun he could have with his methods for debt repayment.
And, judging by the smile on Kamdar's face, Arman had the feeling today was one of those days.
"One of my bouncers is out sick today," Kamdar informed him cheerfully. "You'll be filling in."
He then picked up a collar that had been sitting on the counter. Kamdar wasn't that kinky from his understanding, which meant he wanted him turned for his duty.
Arman looked at the object with disgust. "Go fuck yourself."
Kamdar smiled indifferently in a way that made Arman want to punch him.
"Our deal was that I collect debts for you. I'm not muscle for hire," Arman clarified, so Kamdar realised it wasn't entirely to do with the preference of how he did his job, but the job to start with.
He motioned with his hand towards his office. Kamdar probably didn't want Arman making a scene, even though tarnishing his reputation was something Arman would take great pleasure in.
After Arman followed him inside and shut the door, Kamdar stated, "Our deal was you work for me doing what I need until the 1.6 is paid. Are you prepared to do that? Because, if you aren't…"
Kamdar pulled out a vial of amber liquid that made Arman gulp. Of course, Kamdar was both rich and cruel enough to own this. It was an incredibly expensive concoction often used by Feds to torture a werewolf by forcing them to turn. Alternatively, if someone was already turned, it kept them in that form. Arman had never had it administered, but from his understanding, the turning process forced by the drug was faster and more violent than turning spontaneously from an emotional outburst, which was still uncomfortable compared to voluntary conscious turning. In many cases, the werewolves tortured were left with permanent forms of injury, usually nerve or skeletal damage. Sometimes they were unable to turn back for days or even weeks. It had been outlawed for use many years ago, but CIA blacksites still had a supply, which was probably how Kamdar had gotten it.
"I'd be more than happy to make you."
Nothing was worth that, although Arman also had a new fear: Kamdar might threaten to use this on Nadia if he didn't listen to him. So, without a word, Arman turned, shrugging off his shirt and pants. Most werewolves learned how to turn without usually destroying their clothes at a young age. Children in less-fortunate families usually wore large potato-sack-like clothing until they mastered their turning ability to their parents' satisfaction. He had been one of them, and he knew that Nadia had been one, too, from what she told him. The memory of him telling her in the early days of their relationship that he had enough money for her to buy a new outfit every time she turned was a fond one. But he didn't let the smile creep up on his face. He didn't want Kamdar to think he enjoyed turning on command like a fucking show-dog.
"Good boy," Kamdar praised, before applying the collar to his throat with the Fastlane logo embossed on the side. It took everything in Arman not to go for the jugular.
Arman sat there and waited while Kamdar prepared some documents, before an employee informed him that his guest had arrived. Kamdar then stood up and held the door open, asking Arman to follow him. He hated the mocking tone of his voice. He was clearly deriving pleasure from treating him like a pet. Still, Arman was hyperaware of the liquid in his jacket pocket and did not interfere.
"This should be a piece of cake," Kamdar stated. "Just stand behind me and look like the meanest son of a bitch."
Kamdar turned to face Arman. Arman flashed a scowl. Somehow, that only seemed to egg Kamdar on more.
"Just like that."
The door opened, and hands were shaken. Arman immediately recognised the other man, but kept his head down. Still, he didn't have faith he would be able to blend in. Stuart had seen Arman like this since he was also a werewolf. They had known each other for a long time.
"Morales? Holy Hell. Is that you?" Stuart asked, and Arman did his best to look somewhat polite, but it was hard to be spoken to like this when he couldn't respond.
Kamdar seemed to only want the attention on him because he directed Stuart's gaze away.
"So, Stuart, talk to me. Tell me about this business proposal."
Stuart met Kamdar's eyes. "Yes. Absolutely." But he still couldn't help himself from looking aside. "Uh, I know you're a busy man, so I'm gonna keep the sales pitch brief. But, uh, I'm just surprised to see Morales here."
"Vegas is a small town," Kamdar answered, increasingly annoyed by Arman unintentionally hogging the limelight here. Somehow, it made Arman feel a little better to know he had some kind of upper hand — upper paw, rather.
"Right. Right, of course. La Habana used to be one of my biggest clients. After all, I supply cigars…" he laughed a little, "the kinds you can't get in the good ol' U.S. of A, if you know what I mean." Stuart looked at him again, then back at Kamdar. "Is that why Morales is here? I mean, I heard La Habana was having some hard times, but damn, I guess things are tougher than I thought, huh?
He wished so badly he could answer, but realised Kamdar would have corrected his lie anyway.
"Arman is working for me. It's a temporary arrangement."
As Arman sat there in silence, feeling utterly humiliated, he could only hope that this arrangement would be over with soon because he really couldn't stand being Kamdar's bitch anymore.
Nadia had sensed Arman was on his way before she saw his motorbike come up the street. She was seething with hurt, finding limited relief in throwing all of his things out the window. Under any other circumstances, she would turn and go for a run to cool off. But that wasn't what was going to help here. Arman needed to understand the consequences of his actions. She was done. She was not going to put up with being treated like this anymore. More than that, if she turned, he could easily use that to accuse her of overreacting. Despite being a werewolf himself, he somehow felt justified in using her turning against her in an argument, the way most human men used hormones or PMS as an excuse to dismiss the women in their lives. Just thinking about him standing over her and brushing her off made her desire to remain human even more difficult. She was going to explode.
As he started walking up the steps to their patio, Nadia walked out, involuntarily letting out a threatening growl. She threw more of his belongings to the pavement, and he threw up his hands in confusion.
"Look who decided to come home." Nadia charged towards him, still holding some of his things. She could feel her eyes glow the vibrant amber they became when she turned. "Now, get your things and go!" The last word was spat gruffly, matching the growl she'd let out before, and punctuated by the ball of fabric hitting him square in the chest.
"Nadia, what the hell are you doing?!"
"What the hell are you doing?!" she retorted. "I am doing what I should have done the first time I laid eyes on you with your cleaning lady," she said those last words very aggressively, but she knew that had nothing to do with her wolf side. Arman clenched his fist. If he was going to dare to say anything about her emotions, then he better be prepared to have her point out his emotions that came out when he got defensive about his precious Thony.
"Hey, there's nothing going on between Thony and me! You know that."
She huffed. Not only was he being dismissive, he was also flat-out lying. "Te vi, te vi. I saw you." Her voice then took a mocking tone. "Riding off on your motorcycle with her arms wrapped around you."
"Nadia, you're the one who asked me to sell those meds on the street. That's exactly what we were doing!"
Nadia rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, liar! We did it," she pointed out. "You'll take any excuse to be with her."
His eyes shifted then, and she knew she was pushing his buttons, which just made her feel worse. Rather than admit his emotional abandonment of her, he was going to keep it in. And that would just make him more volatile, less rational, less capable of listening to her.
"We made good money for us!"
"Stop treating me like I'm a stupid little girl. You humiliated me over and over again!" Nadia roared. "I'm not blind. I can see what's between you and her, and I'm done!"
Her teeth had sharpened. If he egged her on anymore, they were not going to settle this with words. It wasn't that either of them had a desire to hurt each other physically. But when they each turned, instinct took over, and their strengths were as close to equal as they could be. Hell, when he wasn't in a mood like this, he would normally admit that she was stronger than him. However, she was so full of anger right now that she was not thinking about the potential fallout from turning and fighting so publicly. It had nothing to do with reputation, but most werewolves, themselves included, were careful not to make their presence known. Sure, they had security and had vetted the neighbourhood, but it was never worth risking.
"Okay, okay, Nadia, cariño, cariño," Arman beckoned, trying to get her to calm down or at least calm down until they could get inside or go far enough away from other people if she ended up turning. But he became a hypocrite soon enough when he noticed the emerald ring on her finger and his own body threatened to reveal its potential. She had fucking known he would get like this. Whenever Robert did something nice for her, Arman immediately accused him of coercing her into something. Maybe Robert would be nicer to him if he could get over his stubbornness and jealousy.
"Are you serious? What the hell is this?!" Now his voice was as gruff as hers as he grabbed her knuckles. "Nadia, we gave this ring to Kamdar to pay off the loan."
"Yes, and he gave it back." She shrugged and snatched her hand away, tired of him making everything such a big deal when it came to Robert. Although their situation was not ideal, Robert was being fair and kind to her, and Arman was neglecting her, so she was going to take what she could get.
But that was precisely what he was upset about.
"Are you sleeping with him?!" His voice was half human, half disgruntled feral growl. His eyes had illuminated, the colour matching the setting sun. His nails and teeth had sharpened, too. "Is that what's going on?"
"Oh, my…" She laughed in disbelief. "Oh, my God. You are the one who's been unfaithful to me."
"Kamdar is a threat to us, and you know that!"
Her next words came out loud and clear, without a shred of an indication that this was an overreaction spurred by her animal side. "There is no more us!" Nadia screamed, the bones in her face twitching. She trembled not with pain but with rage, and knew the turn was imminent. But what she said next was not from the height of her anger but the depth of her heartbreak. She needed him to understand that this hadn't come from a spur-of-the-moment fit of rage. This was the result of pain that had been building and building up inside of her. "And it's not because of Robert: it's because of you."
Nadia fell to the ground then, her spine starting to arch. She heaved and groaned from the pain of doing this so forcefully. Turning from an outburst of emotions was always more painful. Under any other circumstances, he would be at her side helping her either resist or go through with it, depending on how far gone she was. But she brushed him away. She didn't want his help. She wanted him to understand how much she was suffering. Her bones cracked loudly, much more than they usually should, and her jaw twitched in a way that communicated one simple instruction: run.
She barked violently, uncaring of the attention she was probably drawing. Arman understood the message. His anger dissipated just as quickly as it had arisen. She had kicked him out, and she had meant it. He looked like he still wanted to say more, probably the umpteenth reminder that Robert was not to be trusted. All Nadia wanted to do was spend time with her husband. But every free moment they had, when nobody was around to tell them what to do, he would go off and help Thony. It would bother Nadia enough if Thony was asking him to run errands or rub her back or babysit or whatever it was she wanted him to do. But Arman's ability to evaluate risks seemed to switch off when he was with Thony. For God's sake, he had gone to prison and nearly died as a result because of her. Nadia stood by every word that she had said. He needed to open his eyes and realise that every time he chose Thony over her, it was like a knife to her chest.
Nadia howled out as he drove off, but instead of coming out fiercely, it faltered midway through into a sob. Because, despite how angry she was at Arman, she still missed him and wanted him more than anything else.
Before the incident, Nadia might have actually felt comfortable doing something like taking a bubble bath at Robert's mansion. But now, she was constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for him to confront her. Robert's insane level of paranoia had been one of several factors marking the end of their relationship. It was one thing to be cautious: many people in a not-so-legal line of work were like that; it was the only way to survive. But Robert was different. When he had a hunch that something was going to happen, he would interrogate anyone and everyone to get enough information to satisfy him. He would not rule her out in his poisoning. He knew someone was out to get him. And although Nadia believed she was doing a good job of pretending to be in love with him again, she knew that no amount of acting would be enough. In fact, if she appeared too affectionate and concerned, he might think something was up. It was a fine line she was walking. She had to act loyal to him, but she also had to be natural about it.
Nadia closed her eyes and tried to relax. It was difficult. She was already anxious, but her heightened instincts made it worse. Was she anxious because Robert was here and she had lied through her teeth? Or could her gut subconsciously tell that something was wrong? God, if it hadn't been for Thony saving Robert's life, with her stash of Arman's blood, of all things, they wouldn't be here. She would have all of her money, she would have La Habana, and she would have the drug shipment from the Philippines. Everything would have been fine. She and Arman could have had a long talk, and things would have been okay. But, no, Thony had had to interfere and get the drugs herself, and now, not only was Nadia worried about her own well-being, but Robert also had even fewer reasons to keep Arman around. She might be angry at Arman right now, but that didn't mean she wanted him dead. Just thinking about the consequences of Thony's actions — consequences Thony clearly didn't care about because the only thing that mattered to her was her son — made her fists clench. Nadia tried her best to take a few deep breaths and calm down. Robert was very good at reading people, so he was even better at knowing what a werewolf was thinking because it was so much harder for them to conceal it.
Nadia gasped at the feeling of someone touching her cheek, opening her eyes. Robert was sitting on the edge of the tub, smiling in a way that only made it apparent he was unlikely to be here just to check on her. Still, Nadia managed a soft smile that she hoped would put Robert at ease.
He was eerily calm as he said, "You made a mistake. Thony didn't steal my drugs: Arman did."
Robert started idly stroking her hair in a way that might normally be affectionate but instead made her skin crawl.
She shook her head. "No. It can't be. You're lying. Armando would never do that."
Her senses really started to go on high alert now. Something very bad was about to happen, and it took everything in her not to groan in pain. No amount of warm water and bath salts could relax her muscles when they were like this.
"All Thony wanted was the medicine for her son. But I found out that Arman used an old contact to reroute that entire shipment."
Her eyebrows rose. "What? I didn't know that."
"You've been lying to me." Robert's voice broke. She realised that this was not just paranoia talking, but heartbreak. She had hurt him.
"No, Robert, I haven't... I haven't…"
"Because you're still protecting him, and that's why you poisoned me."
Before she could try to reason with him again, she felt herself slide down the wall of the tub as Robert's hand moved to her hair and shoved her into the water. It was so starkly violent and rough compared to the gentle caressing motion he had been making before. Nadia screamed with all her might, but Robert was strong and had every intention of demonstrating that. She wondered whether he was being particularly rough here because he knew that she could overpower him if she turned. Maybe this was still his paranoia. Maybe he was terrified of her.
And, if that was the case, then she needed to make him realise that it was a mistake to try to mess with her.
She hadn't ever wanted to hurt Robert, and they'd had many conversations in the early days of their relationship about how much he trusted her despite her lycanthropy and her insecurity about hurting him. But now, he was trying to hurt her, so turning was her only way out. Her body seemed to know that because she could feel hair follicles pierce her skin and her bones shift in a way that forced her to all fours, slipping on the frictionless marble of the tub. Robert's hand continued to reach down, desperate to keep her there. But she did her best to channel her fear into anger, and the rest of the turning process went rapidly. It was also nice not having to worry about clothes in these circumstances — at least, until she had to turn back and find something to cover herself.
Nadia emerged from the bathtub covered in bubbles, but with a sneer that made Robert pale.
"Nadia–" he went to say, cautiously going to touch her, but she barked at him and jerked back.
Nadia shook the excess water from her fur, spraying him. It would almost be amusing if she weren't so scared about how he might react. She stared him down with a low growl, hoping to give him the message, but to her horror, a sly smile crept across his face.
"You know, Nadia, if that's how you want to play it..." He pulled out a vial from his pocket. Her eyes widened. She knew exactly what it was, and it terrified her to think that Robert just had it on him at all times. Whether he kept it for her or for Arman, it didn't matter. "I'd be more than happy to keep you this way."
A very instinctive part of her wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds, but she would be outnumbered by his guards, some of whom were also werewolves. So, if she couldn't fight, then she had to run before Robert had a chance to call his guards.
And run she did, through the open doors of the house, leaving a trail of water everywhere she went, hoping that her adrenaline would carry her out so she could find Arman. Because, when she was like this, utterly terrified and on edge despite the nature of her form, Arman was the only one who could ground her. But when she found herself face to face with three of his guards, she wished to God she had listened to Arman's warnings about Robert's intentions.
Nadia had thankfully been allowed to turn back on her own, with clothes nearby, but she wouldn't have put it past Robert to make her do so publicly. It was a struggle to stay human. She was both terrified of and furious with him. Still, she blamed Thony more than anyone else. But all she could think about right now was Arman. She didn't want to go with Robert to Argentina, and certainly not by force. Nadia took emphatic breaths as the driver made his way towards the plane. Two guards flanked her on either side. She wouldn't have room to turn even if she tried. She needed to play nice and just pray that Arman had an idea of where she was and had a plan. But she had been depending on and trusting him less and less lately, all because of his precious cleaning lady, who took up all of his time and priorities. Who was she kidding? He wasn't coming to save her. She wouldn't be surprised if he had no idea what was happening until she called him angrily from Buenos Aires.
When she got out of the car and saw Robert standing there, rage from when he had threatened her with that inhumane drug rose to the surface.
"First, you keep me a prisoner, then you let him kidnap me!"
"You haven't been kidnapped," Robert responded calmly. "You've been escorted."
"I'm not going with you, Robert," Nadia insisted.
"You tried to kill me." Robert grabbed her arm fiercely, possessively. "I was just returning the favour, so be fair–"
Her heart leapt in her chest at the sound of gunfire. All of Robert's guards were being knocked down, one by one, by the airfield staff. Clearly, the helmets were opaque enough that Robert had been unable to tell there had been a switch at some point. All of them pointed their guns at Robert. And, when the roar of a motorcycle engine came from behind her, she knew only one person could have helped her.
Relief flooded her body as Arman got off his motorcycle. She never thought she would be so happy to see him after how much he had hurt her, but she supposed this proved that their love was strong enough to override even the worst of times.
When Nadia looked back at Robert, he was frozen in shock. Without his guards, he was not only outnumbered, but also outnumbered by werewolves. He couldn't run, even if he tried. And that confidence, that assurance, made all of her nerves calm down. She wasn't on the verge of turning. She was in control.
Arman strode over and punched Robert without missing a beat.
"Arman, wait," Robert pleaded pathetically.
He motioned with his head for the guards to leave, so it was just the two of them.
"Arman."
Arman then kicked Robert in the face twice, his eyes glowing as he did so.
Robert was truly desperate now, his voice lacking all of its usual menace. "If you kill me, you'll never get away with it."
"I'm not gonna kill you."
Arman then looked at her expectantly. She tilted her head, but then she realised what he wanted. He was letting her do this. He was telling her, without opening his mouth, that he would take care of everything, and that she could have at it.
To be in a position of power over Robert was everything. The final straw had been the discovery that he not only possessed but had been willing to use that horrible drug she wanted wiped from existence. She needed him to understand that he shouldn't have dared to consider using it to make her comply. She wasn't boiling with rage like she had been after he had attempted to drown her. No, there was a smile on her face when she realised she could make Robert's last moments as terrifying as hers had nearly been. She smiled, not because she was a bloodthirsty werewolf or a beast, but because she was about to liberate herself, for good, from Robert's control.
Nadia took off her jacket and passed it to Arman, who stood back to give her space. She turned effortlessly, feeling strength and courage in every part of her body. She was calm. She was stoic. She wasn't on edge and full of adrenaline. No, she had turned because she had wanted to.
"No. Nadia?" Robert asked, his voice shaking.
She leapt onto him so her paws were pressing his body down. She growled meanly, enjoying the way the colour had drained from his face. While it was a misconstrued stereotype that werewolves were prone to violence or sadistic, she couldn't deny that her animal instincts here made this feel more satisfying and empowering. Her claw slowly pierced the delicate skin below his solar plexus while her eyes watched him gasp for air. Blood started to spread across his grey shirt. She deepened the wounds and dragged down until she knew she'd hit a vital organ, all the while Robert begged her to stop.
And when she finally decided to dig her sharp teeth into his throat, ending his reign of terror for good, she knew undoubtedly that she had turned for a reason. If she had been in a fit of rage or fear, she wouldn't have taken such care to make Robert suffer.
Arman took a deep breath as he waited for Thony to come in. He had never been this nervous, but there was nobody to blame except himself. If he hadn't risked everything for Thony, time and time again, she wouldn't be so dependent on him. But now, after prison, after nearly losing Nadia, and after nearly being killed himself, he was done. Nadia was the one he loved and wanted to be with. And, since Thony didn't know how to take a hint, wouldn't respond to threats in his human or his wolf form, and now posed an even greater liability with the deportation of her sister-in-law, he had to be quite blunt with his actions. He hadn't wanted it to have to come to this. But he needed to protect his family, just the way Thony protected hers. He had discussed this with Nadia. She had been surprised that he had brought it up, but ultimately pleased to see him thinking with his priorities in order. They would ensure the De La Rosas had enough money, especially for Luca's medical bills. Nadia had offered to financially compensate them as she was now endowed with Kamdar's estate. Fiona's ex-husband would have custody of the three children. He seemed more than capable of being a parent, so that didn't bother them. If they wanted to find a way to bring Fiona home, the money they would leave them would let them do so.
Everything was in place. Arman just had one last thing to take care of.
"Arman?" Thony asked with a knock on his office door.
He told her to come in and shut the door, so she did. Before he could even get a word in, she started going on about their new plan, assuming that he would agree to everything despite its many risks because he had bent over backwards for her at every instance until now. It was so plain to see she was using him, even if she did also seem to have feelings for him, and he had reciprocated them on occasion. It had only been displacement. Every time he had kissed Thony, caressed her cheek, done anything more than platonic, it had been because he was stressed because of Hayak watching him like a hawk or jealous because of Kamdar getting involved in his life. When he looked into Nadia's eyes, he felt a connection there that nothing could replace. And he needed to honour that by making sure nothing ever came close to breaking them apart.
Thony was so caught up in her demands that she was oblivious to him removing the outer layers of his clothes. He had chosen appropriate attire for turning, which only affirmed to him more that this was something he wanted. He was so tired of having someone force his hand. He was tired of playing by other people's rules. He just wanted freedom, for himself and for Nadia. Thony was the only remaining obstacle.
It was only when he turned that she fell silent. When he turned completely of his own volition, he was much more stoic. He didn't growl. He didn't threaten her in any way.
"What… what are you doing?" Thony asked. She wasn't even afraid. She seemed almost offended that he had interrupted her.
But fear crept into his expression when he leaned back and bared his teeth. In the moment he took to prepare his pounce, she went for the door, but she wasn't fast enough. He pinned her down by the shoulders. His claws pierced her sweater and started digging into her skin. His face was just inches from hers, and she quivered beneath his touch, bleating his name over and over again. He couldn't bear to look at her or make her suffer, so, in one quick motion, his jaw seized her neck. He knew he hit the carotid artery because blood sprayed all over the carpet. There was something darkly humorous about the way he mentally noted the need to hire someone to get blood out of the expensive fabric. Thony tried to fight him, but she wasn't nearly as strong, and within seconds, she fell limp. When Arman finally pulled back, Thony's eyes were wide. There were droplets of blood on her skin and in her hair.
Although Arman hated that it had had to get to this point, that he could have just told Thony to leave him and Nadia alone, and felt like this had been his only option, he also recognised all the voluntary steps he had taken. He could have stabbed her, shot her, poisoned her, or done something more discreet and less messy. But he hadn't. He had chosen to turn, to terrify her in her final moments, and to kill her in a very brutal way. There had been no underlying emotion forcing his body to react in the only way it knew how; he had entirely aware of his decision to turn. Thony had used Arman for his blood over and over again. A little here for Luca, a little there for someone else. What had been the final straw was her using his blood to save Kamdar. She had circumvented him, and that had made him furious. That reminder made Arman even more cemented in his choice.
Because when he turned for a reason, it could only mean he truly, deeply, wanted something. In this case, for him and Nadia to have their lives back. And, with Thony, Kamdar, and Hayak dead, Arman could rest easy now knowing he had fulfilled his goal.