The conference room smelled like burnt coffee, cheap cologne, and barely concealed dread. A dozen officers sat around the long table, their shoulders tense as Superintendent Holloway slapped a folder onto the surface.

A few photographs slid out.

No one reached for them.

But their eyes couldn’t look away.

The latest victim—a mid-thirties Alpha, bound to a rusted chair in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. His throat had been cut so deeply, his head barely stayed attached. His body was covered in deep, jagged gashes, and a message had been carved directly into his chest.

"I SEE YOU."

A low murmur rippled through the room. Some officers swallowed hard. Others clenched their jaws.

Holloway’s voice was rough, sharp. "This is the fourth victim in three months. Same M.O. No forced entry. No security footage. No DNA. No scent markers. Whoever this is, they’re good." He let that settle. "They’re getting bolder."

Silence.

Then—

"This case is now in the hands of Detective Callum Graves."

A few officers physically tensed. One muttered something that sounded a lot like "God help us all."

Everyone knew Callum Graves—the best detective in the department, but an absolute nightmare to work with. Sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued, and allergic to teamwork. If he didn’t work you to death, he’d drive you to quit out of sheer frustration.

Holloway scanned the room. "I need a second detective on this."

Nobody moved.

One officer suddenly became very interested in his coffee. Another found the ceiling absolutely fascinating.

Then—

"I’ll do it."

Heads turned.

Emery Vance. Young, eager, stupidly optimistic.

Julian, his closest friend, nearly choked on his coffee. "Emery. No. Graves will eat you alive."

Emery grinned. "Hey, I like a challenge."

Julian dragged a hand down his face. "You are the challenge."

But Emery had already made up his mind.

Holloway nodded. "Then it’s settled. Try not to make me regret this, Vance."

First Meeting – Disaster Strikes Immediately

Emery strode into Callum’s office with all the confidence of a man who hadn’t yet realized he was about to be violently ejected.

Callum Graves sat behind his desk, cigarette dangling from his fingers, the smoke curling lazily into the air. Dark eyes. Permanent scowl. Zero tolerance for bullshit.

He didn’t look up.

"No."

Emery blinked. "I didn’t even say anything yet."

Callum finally lifted his gaze, expression flat as hell. "You don’t need to. I work alone."

"Not anymore." Emery flashed a grin. "Surprise! I’m your new partner. Isn’t that exciting?"

Callum took a slow drag of his cigarette. Exhaled. Flicked the ash.

Then—

He picked up the nearest file and threw it at Emery’s head.

Emery ducked just in time, the file smacking against the door behind him.

"What the hell, man?"

Callum sighed, rubbing his temple. "Get out."

"Can’t." Emery leaned against the door, arms crossed. "Superintendent says we’re stuck together. You and me. The dream team. Best buds."

Callum’s eye twitched.

Then, without another word, he grabbed his coat and stormed out.

By the time Emery reached the parking lot, Callum was already peeling out of the driveway like he had a personal vendetta against traffic laws.

Emery groaned. Seriously?

He jumped into his own car and sped after him.

Callum swerved through the streets like a man who either had a death wish or a really bad attitude. Probably both. Emery did his best to keep up, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

After a tense twenty minutes, Callum finally pulled up in front of a run-down warehouse. The kind of place where people either got murdered or made terrible life choices.

Callum stepped out of his car, looking over his shoulder—just in time to see Emery park right behind him.

The Alpha’s expression soured.

"Did you seriously follow me?"

Emery grinned. "Looks like I did."

Callum exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "You’re not going away, are you?"

"Nope."

A long pause.

Callum looked at him like he was considering homicide. Then, finally—

"Fine. But don’t get in my way."

Emery flashed a bright, shit-eating grin. "No promises."

And just like that, they stepped into the dark—completely unaware of just how deep this case would take them.