Colson

Grrreetings, Furball

Colson POV

I ran for exactly twelve seconds.

Then I stopped.

Because running looks suspicious.

And I already had one unhinged witch sniffing my timeline and two vampire lords wondering why I wasn’t acting properly evil enough.

So instead of running like prey, I adjusted my coat, smoothed my expression into something between amused and predatory, and casually stepped back into the main street like I hadn’t just been informed I might be permanently trapped in the worst era of my existence.

“Great,” I muttered. “Just fantastic. No pressure. Save the world, fix time, avoid evil witch, avoid evil boss, avoid slightly more evil boss. Easy.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets.

Think.

I couldn’t go to Amaris directly.

Not yet.

The witch was tracking me too cleanly.

Which meant I needed interference.

Noise.

Wildcards.

And I knew exactly two.

I turned toward the casino district.

Because of course they’d be there.

Of course they would.

Zane was new in the city at this point. Fresh alpha. Suspicious. Overprotective. Sage was circling him like she didn’t care and cared entirely too much.

And I…

I had been the creep that night.

The instigator.

The annoying blood-sucker who shoved events into motion.

Funny how that works.

You live something once and it feels inevitable.

You live it twice and it feels like surgery.

I spotted them before they spotted me.

Zane stood near the casino entrance, posture loose but coiled underneath, that massive alpha energy humming just beneath the surface. Sage stood beside him, arms crossed, pretending she wasn’t studying every single exit like she planned to rob the place blind.

She was still wearing her hair wild — the color of the northern lights under streetlamps, strands catching green and violet as she shifted.

Gods.

She was so young here.

Not in years.

In hardness.

She hadn’t yet softened into trust.

Hadn’t yet let him in.

Hadn’t yet become the Sage I knew would burn the world for the people she loved.

I exhaled slowly.

And then I ruined the moment.

“Furball!”

Zane’s head snapped toward me immediately.

His eyes flashed bright.

“Who the hell are you calling that?” he growled.

I grinned broadly.

“Oh, right. You’re not my big furry buddy yet. Grrreetings, oh mighty and terrifying Zane.”

His lip curled.

“Why would a blood-sucker dare address me at all?”

Ah.

There it was.

The hostility.

The lack of history.

I placed a hand dramatically over my chest.

“Wow. And here I thought we were closer.”

Sage looked between us, unimpressed.

“Are you stalking me again?” she asked flatly.

I blinked.

“Again feels aggressive. I prefer enthusiastically coincidental.”

Zane stepped slightly in front of her.

Protective.

Already.

Cute.

Infuriating.

“You have five seconds to explain why you’re here,” Zane said lowly.

I leaned closer conspiratorially.

“Because, furball—sorry—Alpha, I need help.”

That earned me a pause.

Not trust.

But confusion.

Sage snorted.

“From us?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m being hunted by a future-escaped witch who wants a world-ending spellbook piece currently strapped to my chest.”

Silence.

Zane blinked once.

Sage stared.

Then Sage laughed.

“You’re drunk.”

I sighed.

“No. Tragically sober.”

Zane stepped forward.

“You think this is amusing?”

“No,” I replied honestly. “I think this is deeply inconvenient.”

Sage narrowed her eyes at me.

“You’re not joking.”

“Nope.”

Zane’s nostrils flared slightly.

He was scenting the air.

Reading tension.

Reading truth.

And I knew that look.

He didn’t trust me.

But he didn’t think I was lying either.

“Not here,” I muttered. “Too many ears. And I promise you this is more fun than it sounds.”

“Doubtful,” Sage replied.

“Extremely fair.”

I jerked my head toward a side alley leading toward a closed warehouse district.

“Private.”

Zane hesitated.

Then looked at Sage.

She rolled her eyes.

“If he tries anything, I’ll break him.”

I grinned.

“See? That’s the energy I love.”

Zane growled.

We moved.

The alleyways twisted behind the casino district, quieter, darker, far less populated. I led them through three turns, one fire escape climb, and a rooftop jump before stopping in a shadowed loading bay.

Zane crossed his arms.

“Talk.”

I took a breath.

And dropped the humor just enough to be dangerous.

“Do either of you believe in time travel?”

Sage blinked.

“No.”

Zane said nothing.

“Fantastic,” I muttered. “Okay. So here’s the short version: I’m not exactly… supposed to be operating at full awareness right now.”

Sage tilted her head.

“Explain that without sounding insane.”

“Hard pass.”

Zane stepped forward slightly.

“You smell wrong.”

Ah.

Shit.

He could sense it.

“I’m not wrong,” I corrected. “Just… misplaced.”

Sage groaned.

“I’m leaving.”

“Don’t,” I snapped sharply.

Too sharp.

Both of them stiffened.

I exhaled slowly.

“Look. There’s a witch in this city who does not belong here. She remembers things she shouldn’t. She knows what I’m carrying.”

Zane’s gaze flicked to my coat.

“What are you carrying?”

“Something that could ruin everything.”

Sage folded her arms.

“And why tell us?”

“Because you,” I looked at Zane, “behead my boss one day.”

Zane went still.

“And you,” I looked at Sage, “burn brighter than anyone he ever underestimated.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Charged.

Sage studied me differently now.

Less annoyance.

More calculation.

“You talk like you’ve seen it,” she said quietly.

“I have.”

Zane’s jaw tightened.

“And we’re supposed to believe that.”

I shrugged lightly.

“You won’t remember this conversation anyway.”

That made them both stiffen.

“What?” Sage demanded.

“When I leave this timeline, anything tied to the anomaly of me being… aware… resets. You’ll remember me as I was meant to be remembered.”

Zane growled.

“I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I.”

Sage narrowed her eyes.

“Prove it.”

Ah.

There it was.

The challenge.

I smirked faintly.

“Tomorrow night. The other casino owner across town? His accountant skims funds and disappears before sunrise. You’ll find his car by the river.”

Zane blinked once.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?”

Sage studied me.

“You’re either insane,” she said slowly, “or you’re telling the truth.”

“Both are possible.”

Zane stepped closer.

“If this is some kind of trap—”

“It’s not.”

“And what exactly do you want from us?”

“Noise,” I said. “Distraction. If someone is watching me—and they are—I need them to split attention.”

Sage tilted her head.

“You want us to create chaos.”

“Yes.”

Her lips curved faintly.

“I like chaos.”

Zane sighed.

“Of course you do.”

I looked between them.

And for a second—

Just a second—

I saw it.

The spark.

The beginning.

The fragile thread that would become everything.

And gods help me, it hurt.

Because I knew how much they would go through.

I knew what they would survive.

And right now?

They didn’t even trust each other fully.

“You’re going to help me,” I said softly.

Zane frowned.

“Why would we?”

I smiled slowly.

“Because deep down, you hate him too.”

Zane’s jaw tightened.

He did.

He just didn’t know it yet.

Sage exhaled.

“What’s the plan?”

There it was.

Trust.

Small.

But real.

I straightened slightly.

“Good. Now that you’re unofficially assisting a time-displaced super vampire…”

Zane growled.

“…we’re going to survive the next forty-eight hours without the world ending.”

Sage rolled her eyes.

“You’re dramatic.”

“Oh sweetheart,” I grinned. “You have no idea.”

And as they stood there with me—before they were mates, before they were legends, before they trusted me—

I realized something terrifying.

If I stayed too long…

If I changed too much…

If I failed to leave…

I wouldn’t just lose my future.

I might destroy theirs.

And that?

That scared me more than any witch ever could.