concerns in regard to Neo?"
"It's not necessarily concerning." Onyx went along with me changing the subject. "It's the mate bond that is bothering me."
My eyes lowered to Willow's hand that gripped a bit of her pillow. The branding in colored ink displayed a frosted oasis hidden by the shadows. I already had my guesses about what that mark meant, but the specific detailing would need more research to confirm what I was sure he was assuming.
Royal mates.
"You're of royal blood," I got to the point. "As to what exact pack, I'm unsure...though, it finally all makes sense with how strong your abilities have been since your childhood. Not everyone can appear out of nowhere and control the very shadows."
"Do you think my royalty is related to Nico's?"
That was a good question that left me as curious as he surely was.
"You sense similarities?"
"Yes and no," Onyx replied. "I sense similar power structures, and his magic obviously has a dark essence, but there are definitely differences. I don't have a duality in my personality and I'm certainly not that bloodthirsty."
"I thought he'd kill Willow," I admitted. That information held vulnerability to it, but that was something I was perfectly fine with sharing with Onyx. He wouldn't consider me weak in the slightest, just as I'd never judge him for being open with his concerns.
"Truthfully, he had no intention to," Onyx revealed. "He enjoys the gamble of others' reactions, but her defiance and acceptance of that side of him were uncalled for. He didn't calculate her waking up."
"I was a bit impressed by that," I acknowledged. "She was dead asleep seconds before."
"Willow could be an assassin if she wished to be."
"And take my job? I'd be heartbroken."
"Bullshit," Onyx commented with a smug grin. "You'd go on vacation. But without Willow, you'd be an anxious mess and probably watch her for shits and giggles."
"It annoys me when you're right," I huffed and turned around. "I'll look into the symbol for you. It'll take time because it looks like a generational mark, and from the looks of it, royal shifter packs enjoy hiding their heritage."
That part was definitely clear seeing as my memory of being assigned to Willow as her Royal Protector had been wiped out and replaced with me being hired by Roberto.
It wasn't necessarily a lie, but there's a big difference between Royal Protector and bodyguard. Big fucking difference.
"I'd appreciate the assistance," he admitted. "Get going. We’ll be in contact by the morning if things are going south."
"Agreed," I replied and reached for the doorknob.
"Thanks, Viktor."
I turned my head slightly just to nod in response, and with that, I was closing the door behind me and heading to the elevator.
The ride down was my moment to bury everything into that safety chest within myself, the spot where I kept my most valuable memories, thoughts, and individuals. It was the place that no matter what torturous actions were plagued upon me in the event I was captured, those key items would be taken right to my grave.
All the information, secrets, info only I carried was at my disposal, ready to be used to threaten those who dared to try and get an upper hand against me.
I carried knowledge Russia would pay me billions if not trillions for, and could probably start World War III if it got into the proper hands. But seeing as I had a few individuals I still cared about in this lifetime, that was reserved for an apocalypse.
When there were twenty floors to go, I secured the one who made the most valuable impact in my life.
My cage-fighting royal princess by the name of Willow.
This process was always the same. I relived the memories of many instances that brought a smile to my face as I watched her grow through the years. This time around, memories I'd forgotten came flashing by: scenes of Willow laughing and running through large halls with her little arms spread out while her long white strands flew in the wind.
What a difference from the memories of her voided eyes, her appearance replicating a male in hopes of Roberto's approval. The years of hidden rebellion, while she worked through the torture and agony a life raised by Roberto delivered was inspiring.
If she were raised properly, in a royal Pack House that acknowledged her title, birthright, and bright future, would Willow be as much of a threat as she was to the world?
William wouldn't even exist in such a world.
His smug smile flashed within my mind, those