He was exhausted… but that wasn't something new. These days he was always exhausted…always so tired and worn out. And it wasn't the type of exhaustion that would go away. It clung to him like a shadow, and he simply carried it wherever he went. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to get rid of it. He'd tried to sleep it off. He'd tried to drown it in alcohol. He'd tried meditating it away. But nothing worked. Nothing could help him get rid of it.

Sometimes he envied Fenrir…envied him because he no longer had to deal with all these problems. He hoped Fenrir was happy in the afterlife…if there was an afterlife. He hoped that he was having fun and living just as luxuriously as he'd lived here.

The ringing of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts, and he picked it up from where he'd placed it on the seat next to him. Seeing the name on the display brought him no joy,

"What do you want?"

Fraser chuckled,

"Why can't you just be happy to hear from me for once?"

Harry leaned back in the seat and stared out the black tinted window as the SUV drove him to his office,

"Because you never seem to give me anything to be happy about."

Fraser tsked,

"That's not true. But anyways, I have news for you."

That caught his attention,

"What news?"

Fraser sighed,

"I guess meeting in person would be out of the question?"

Harry gritted his teeth before grinding out,

"What news, Fraser?"

Fraser was silent for a moment before speaking,

"You've been keeping Andrew awfully close these days."

Harry resisted the urge to shout in frustration. It was so difficult to get Fraser to talk,

"He's my personal secretary."

Fraser cackled gleefully,

"He was always your personal secretary, but you never put your tongue down his throat before… So, I'm wondering, what changed?"

Harry ended the call before he could listen to anymore of what Fraser had to say. But, what Fraser had said was true to some extent. He had been keeping Andrew closer than usual ever since he'd staked his claim on him.

Mark, who'd been silent for the entirety of the drive finally spoke up,

"Was that Fraser?"

Harry met Mark's gaze in the rear-view mirror and nodded silently. His phone vibrated his hand and he realized that it was text message from Fraser. He opened it and it said,

Call Andrew

Even though he didn't want to act on Fraser's instruction, he did just that. The phone rang twice.

"Hello there."

Tom's voice settled causally in Harry's gut, heating him up instantly,

"You have Andrew's phone?"

Tom laughed,

"Noticed that, did you?"

Harry gnashed out,

"Where is he?"

Tom spoke in a matter of fact voice,

"Unavailable. Next question."

He asked,

"Is he hurt? If you hurt him…You must know how this will end."

Tom seemed to ignore his threat because he spoke,

"The Riverton Hotel. Twentieth floor. Room two."

The cool smoothness in his voice gripped Harry.

His body responded to just that, hardening despite the circumstances. He murmured,

"You have my attention… That is what you wanted, Right? But you should know, Tom…"

Tom inhaled sharply and Harry knew it was because he'd used his name. He continued,

"You should know you had it from the very beginning. You never lost my attention all these years."

Tom finally spoke,

"Five hours. You for him."

His body liked every single thing about this. Harry dug his fingers into the expensive leather of the seat, gripping hard,

"I'm on my way."

The call disconnected and the sensation of loss was swift. He fisted the phone and pressed his knuckles to his mouth to bite back the scream that was threatening to escape. Mark sounded alert when he inquired,

"What's wrong, Boss?"

Harry closed his eyes. Tom had Andrew. Did Tom have a death wish because he should know how this would end this time,

"He has Andrew."

Mark growled angrily,

"That bastard… Should I get my team ready?"

"He wants to do a swap. I'll handle this on my own."

Mark protested,

"This is just like last time. He wants you and he's using Andrew to get you. You do realize this, right."

Round two.

This was round two. His belly tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut briefly,

"Fraser knew he had Andrew."

He called Fraser immediately, who picked up on the first ring,

"I tried to warn you, Harry."

Harry growled into the phone,

"Did you help him? You and your family are dead if I find out that you assisted him in any way in this kidnapping."

Fraser's voice was as cold and deadly as a sharpened blade when he spoke,

"I did not assist him. Rather, it was all your fault. Did you really think your developing affection for Andrew would go unnoticed by Voldemort or your other competitors who are avidly watching your every move? Did you learn nothing from Fenrir's death?"

Harry felt the guilt coil around his heart and squeeze so hard, it was almost as if it would stop beating. He wanted it to stop beating because Fraser was right. He'd messed up again. But Fraser wasn't done,

"You cannot afford relationships with normal people, Harry. Everyone you touch will always be snatched away from you because you are trying to deny who you really belong with. If Andrew dies, it will be on your head."

The call ended and Harry dropped his phone on the seat beside him. Mark asked,

"What's the plan, Boss?"

Harry shook his head silently,

"There's no plan. I'll do the swap."

Mark kept his voice low, but Harry could hear the anger simmering underneath,

"You can't possibly play this sick game with that bastard."

Sick game? Every fibre of his being wanted to play Tom's sick game,

"Call the pilot… Tell him to get the jet ready. I need to be in Seattle in five hours."