The Bounty Hunter and His Phoenix Mate (Bounty Hunter Series Book 3)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The end of the day arrived much later than Warlord would have liked. On top of the already butchered financial report, he had spent several hours redoing the entire project because the junior analyst responsible for it was currently on vacation. When he finally reached the final cell of the spreadsheet, he leaned back in his chair, removed his glasses, and sighed heavily, his mind weary from the digital mountain of data.

He wrapped up his tasks, signed out of his workstation, and grabbed his keys. Rather than waiting for the elevator to descend three floors, he took the stairs, favoring the speed of his own legs. As he descended the first flight, the sound of hushed voices drifted up the stairwell. He overheard a group of employees gossiping, but he didn’t pay them any mind; in a company of both humans and supernaturals, office rumors were as common as morning coffee.

As soon as he reached the privacy of his car, he dialed her number.

“Hello?” Arden’s melodic voice answered after the third ring.

“Hey,” Warlord breathed, a palpable sigh of relief escaping him as the day’s tension began to melt away.

“You sound tired,” Arden noted softly.

“It was a long day. Longer than I would have liked,” Warlord responded, his mind finally drifting away from the hell of botched financial reports.

“Hm, I know those days. Anything in particular you want to talk about?” she asked.

“Just corporate bullshit and annoying humans who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Warlord grumbled, his jaw tightening at the memory of Kendall’s public dramatics and refusal to respect his boundaries.

“Oh? Do tell,” Arden prompted, a spark of excitement in her tone that Warlord caught instantly.

“No, please don’t tell me you’re one of those,” Warlord joked, his voice dropping into a weary but playful octave.

“One of what?”

“The gossiping type.”

“I’m a woman, Westley. Of course, I am,” she giggled, the sound sending a much-needed sense of warmth through him. “Do I need to fly over there and shank a b*tch who can’t keep her hands to herself?” Arden asked, her voice dropping into a protective, dangerous purr.

The image hit Warlord like a physical blow. Picturing Arden in her guard uniform dropping out of the sky to secure what was hers by taking out Kendall made him instantly and painfully hard. The sheer possessiveness in her tone spoke to his wolf on a primitive level. He shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, forced to adjust to the sudden ache in his pants.

“Ahem... no. She’s human, so that wouldn’t look too good on your record,” Warlord managed to chuckle, though his voice was strained as he fought to maintain his composure. He took a steadying breath, trying to hide the fact that her threat had turned him on more than he cared to admit. “Besides, the last thing we need is the Fairy King dealing with an interspecies incident because you decided to handle my office drama with a blade.”

“Human? Never mind, that’s boring,” Arden immediately dismissed, her voice light with a teasing edge. Warlord couldn’t help but laugh, the sound vibrating in his chest as the tension of the day finally began to break. “So, are you going to go into detail about this woman who’s bothering you? Or do I need to worry about her being competition?”

“Nothing much to go into,” Warlord said aloofly, leaning his head back against the headrest. “She’s delusional and refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer. There’s really not much else to tell.”

“Nah-uh-uh, there’s always more, Westley,” Arden countered, her tone shifting from playful to slightly more investigative. “Women, regardless of their species, don’t just start crossing professional boundaries for no reason. You must have done something.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Warlord defended himself immediately, aggrieved at the accusation.

“How about you let me be the judge of that?” Arden said, and he could practically see the knowing smirk on her face through the phone.

Warlord sighed, realizing he wasn't getting out of this without a full report.

“You said this is happening at work. So, where do you work?”

“I work at my Alpha’s company. Many of the pack members do,” Warlord answered.

“What’s her name?”

“Kendall.”

“And how did this all start?” Arden asked.

Warlord went into detail about how Kendall’s one-sided crush developed. “We had a mandatory team outing a few months ago, and we happened to sit next to each other. Apparently, she mistook common courtesy for something else.”

“Westley, women don’t usually take something that simple and construct an entire fantasy out of it. There has to be a catalyst,” Arden said, her voice turning more serious. The playfulness was still there, but beneath it was the sharp intuition of a woman who knew what she was talking about. “What did you talk about? Did you do anything... physical?”

Warlord’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “If you’re asking if I slept with her, the answer is a hard no. I haven't been with anyone in years.”

Warlord paused, his mind sifting through the archives of his memory, trying to visualize a night he had intentionally tried to forget. “No... I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Arden repeated, her tone sharpening with a hint of playful authority.

“It was four months ago, Arden. I’m not exactly cataloging every minor social interaction,” Warlord said, his voice rising with a touch of indignation.

“That’s a weak excuse, Westley. You’re supposed to be this world-class bounty hunter who also manages high-level data for your Alpha. Paying attention to detail is quite literally your life's expertise,” Arden retorted, neatly trapping him with his own reputation.

“When it comes to tracking a target or organizing complex financial spreadsheets, yes. I don't miss a thing. But human interactions? Those are different,” Warlord grumbled as he flipped his blinker, turning onto the long, winding road that led deep into the pack territory. “I didn’t even want to go to that stupid outing. It was a mandatory team-building exercise, and I spent the whole night counting down the minutes until I could leave. If I touched her, it was likely an accident while reaching for the food or my drink, but I can assure you, there was zero intent behind it.”

“Mmhmm,” Arden hummed, the sound vibrating through the line. “Just remember, Westley, a human woman’s imagination can be a dangerous thing, especially when they’re looking at a man like you. You may have seen that night as just a work-related outing, but she could have seen it as an opening.”

“Well, she can imagine all she wants. I’ve made it clear there's no opening. The only person I'm interested in ‘interacting’ with is currently stuck in Utah for the next twenty-three weeks.”

Arden couldn’t help but smile at his response; her heart fluttered at the possessive tone in his voice. She continued their conversation as she strolled through the fairy kingdom’s reflective lights, heading back to her quarters after dinner. The news of her discovery had spread through the court like wildfire, and it was no longer a secret that a member of the Royal Guard had found her true love. Adding the fact that he was a werewolf only added to the intrigue.

Many of her fellow fairies greeted her with genuine warmth, their eyes glowing with the shared joy of those who understood the sacred weight of finding a life partner. In a world governed by ancient laws and duty, such a bond was a rare gift.

Unfortunately, the harmony wasn't universal. Standing in the shadows of the training grounds was Douglas, a fellow guard whose gaze remained cold and fixed. Arden was too fixated on her conversation with Warlord that she didn’t sense Douglas’ resentment—a jagged, old-fashioned bitterness that refused to accept an interspecies mate bond.

She knew he would be trouble, but as she whispered sweet promises to Westley over the phone, she had no idea just how far Douglas would go to disrupt the life she was trying to build, or how much danger his jealousy would truly cause.

The air in the high, stone-carved alcove of the barracks was thick with the herbal scent of fairy tobacco. Far below, the kingdom was a tapestry of glowing flora and silver moonlight, but the atmosphere among the small cluster of guards was anything but peaceful.

Douglas leaned against the parapet, the ember of his cigarette glowing bright as he took a long, agitated drag. Beside him stood Kaelen and Jace, two seasoned guards who were more interested in the quiet of the night than the venom dripping from their companion’s mouth.

“Six months,” Douglas spat, exhaling a cloud of smoke that obscured his bitter expression. “Six months until she abandons her post, her duty, and her own kind for a beast.”

Kaelen shifted, his iridescent green wings fluttering briefly in the cool air. “She isn’t abandoning her duty, Doug. She’s finishing her contract. And it’s a mate bond. You can’t fight the Fae Mother’s design.”

“The Fae Mother’s design? Please,” Douglas scoffed, flicking ash over the ledge with a jagged motion. “It’s a lapse in judgment. Those lycanthropes are nothing but wild animals. They live in the dirt, run in packs like common dogs, and have no concept of the Fae elegance. And yet Arden, one of our finest, is ready to throw away centuries of lineage to crawl into a wolf’s den.”

Jace frowned, lowering his own smoke. The playfulness that usually defined their late-night breaks had vanished. “You’re talking about the race of our Queen, Douglas. You might want to watch your tongue before Magnus or the King hears you.”

“The Queen is an exception, not the rule,” Douglas countered, his voice rising with a reckless heat. “The exception that opened the floodgates for this... pollution. Faries are meant to be with their own kind. Being with anything else is beneath us. It’s a stain on the uniform.”

Kaelen straightened his posture, his expression hardening. “From what I heard, that beast is a world-class bounty hunter who’s also friends with the King’s son-in-law. As far as I can tell, he has more discipline in his pinky finger than you’ve shown all week because you’re so distracted with Arden’s personal life.”

“I’m not distracted,” Douglas hissed, leaning into Kaelen’s space. “I’m disgusted. Our blood is pure, our magic is ancient, and she wants to dilute it with a creature that can’t even control its own fur when the moon is full. It’s a mockery of everything the Fae stands for.”

Jace crushed his cigarette out against the stone, the friction loud in the sudden silence. “We’re done here. If you hate the werewolves so much, maybe you should take it up with the Queen. Otherwise, shut up and finish your watch. Arden found her happiness; the rest of us are just glad she’s not ending up with someone as miserable as you.”

“Arden deserves better,” Douglas spat.

“Yeah, she does,” Kealan replied, his voice dropping low. He turned his head, fixing Douglas, looking completely unimpressed. “That’s probably why the Fae Mother teamed up with the Moon Goddess and paired her with Warlord. Because she knew Arden needed a man with actual strength and loyalty, rather than a colleague who spends his watch whining like an overgrown manchild.” Douglas stiffened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light, but Kealan didn't back down. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m happy for Arden. Warlord is the perfect match for her fire. If you’re looking for someone who ‘deserves’ her, maybe stop looking in the mirror and start respecting the bond. Because right now? You’re the only one here who looks beneath the uniform.”