Ragnar.

I placed my hand on Daemon's chest. As the Elder of the Northern Wolf Clan, I knew and was capable of far more than others. I concentrated and felt pierced by a severe ache. Daemon's wolf was in excruciating agony.

"He's dying..."

"No way!" Call the doctor and have him sedated," Seymour roared.

"The tranquillizer isn't going to help this time," I stated.

"What shall we do?" Seymour was looking at me, waiting for instructions.

I was thinking furiously. The issue was related to that girl.

But what happened so unexpectedly? What did the wolf experience that made Daemon suffer such pain?

"We're taking him to the girl," I concluded.

Seymour nodded. He rose and lifted Daemon, grabbing his forearms. I grasped the unconscious body by the legs. We quickly carried him to the car.

"What's the plan?" Seymour inquired as he drove onto the road.

"I've no idea. But if I have to pick between watching Daemon die and breaking into his true mate's house with his body, I will choose the second option," I declared, terrified of thinking about how I would explain the situation if I had to.

It was vital to confuse the wolf and gain time for another plan. If it dies today, Daemon will not make it even for a few days.

It was 2 a.m. I hope the girl lives in a quiet neighbourhood and we won't bump into any curious residents.

Seymour appears to have violated every traffic rule. I grabbed Daemon's head as he muttered something between moans. I made an effort to make sense of him. He claimed the same name: "Diana."

Our chosen girl's name is Diana. What a coincidence! This was one of the Moon's names.

'Daemon, what did you do to her that you are so terrified even to look her in the eyes?'

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Alright... First, we will save your fluffy skin, and then I will have a full conversation with you.

Seymour stepped hard on the brakes.

"We've arrived. "Now what?"

I gazed outside the window. I was familiar with this place.

"Do you know her apartment?" I inquired.

Seymour pointed to the windows that faced the road.

"Other windows look into the garden," he replied while staring anxiously at Daemon.

"Hold on. We'll figure something out," I murmured in Daemon's ear, and after making him comfy on the seats, I turned to Seymour. "Let's go explore the area.

It was quiet in the yard. The old building had an English-style structure. The first floor was not residential and most likely had a basement. The windows of the apartment we sought welcomed us with darkness and were set more than 2 meters above the ground.

I was wondering. Do we indeed need to break in?

The building's entrance demanded a code. There wasn't time to play Sherlock and calculate the combination. We might simply dismantle the door, and wake up all the residents in the process.

It's never easy, isn't it?.. I looked up again at the windows, and then a fantastic idea struck me.

The laundry was hanging right outside the windows on the linen rope. I examined it attentively.

I've never been involved in stealing linen, but it's surprising what I wouldn't do to save the life of the imprudent 'Romeo'.

Seymour endured, trampling from foot to foot and focused on the metal door. He was waiting for my directions.

I put my hand on his shoulder and pointed at the window.

"Will we climb through the window?" he inquired, straining to measure the distance.

"No. I'm afraid we're going to ruin our reputation by becoming burglars tonight," I remarked.

Seymour stared at me curiously.

"You'll have to steal the garments," I explained.

Seymour's eyes rounded.

"Excuse me?!"

"If it's about the smell, we'll obtain whatever possesses that smell. I hope it calms the wolf for a while. We will deal with the source of the scent later. It's a pity they are washed..." I whispered, staring at the drying clothing. "But the wolf can still catch the smell."

What I always appreciated about Seymour was that I didn't have to explain things twice. He nodded and focused his attention on the linen rope as he prepared to jump. It will not be difficult for a werewolf to cover such a distance.

Seymour loaded his body when I stopped him.

"Wait. We need to choose what is closest to the body," I remarked, feeling embarrassed of my comment.

"Why? "I'll rip off the entire rope," he said, shrugging.

"You want to leave the girl without clothing?" I hissed.

"We'll send her new ones by courier in the morning," Seymour explained.

"Yeah. Let's include the card: "Here's some fresh stuff for you. P.S. Your repentant thieves!" I commented angrily. "We will take only a few items. Let her blame the blustery October weather.”

"Damn it... I didn't think of it. Alright, tell me which ones I should pull away," Seymour agreed.

I pointed to a scarf flapping in the wind and at the bra, flushing to the roots of my hair.

Seymour grabbed the selected objects in two precise jumps and presented them to me. I sniffed. The bra smelled like washing powder, but I could also smell the girl's odour. If I can feel it, Daemon is more so.

When I smelled a weightless scarf, I couldn't believe my luck. It wasn't washed. It was hung out to refresh. We rushed back to the car.

Daemon's body kept on convulsing as he breathed heavily. I raised his head and took a seat.

"Daemon, can you hear me? I promise we will help you. But for now, I suppose that it will suffice."

I crumpled the scarf and placed it directly over his face. Daemon twitched for a few seconds, but his breathing eventually settled down. Seymour inhaled loudly.

I placed my hand back on Daemon's chest. This time, instead of agony, I sensed grief.

It is okay for now, tomorrow we will take care of the remaining problems.

When Daemon stretched out and pressed the scarf harder, taking a deep breath, Seymour and I exhaled simultaneously.

"If you tell anyone, I'll strangle you," I said as I looked at Seymour.

"Trust me, stealing women's clothing is not something I would like to brag about in the future."

We concurred and decided that it was best for Seymour and Daemon to stay in my villa until we found an acceptable solution for the situation.