And then I smelled it.
Fear.
Sharp and acrid, cutting through the damp basement air like a blade. The scent of sweat and terror, of a body in full panic mode, adrenaline flooding her system.
My cock went fully hard.
Instant. Undeniable. Straining against my jeans so hard it was almost painful.
I couldn’t stop the growl that rumbled up from my chest.
Low. Animalistic. A sound I didn’t even recognize as my own.
Every brother in the room tensed. The air was suddenly thick with anticipation and danger.
Cerberus stood up from his chair with deliberate slowness, his hand moving instinctively toward his belt where I knew he kept his blade concealed. The leather creaked under his grip. Garrote shifted his weight, distributing it evenly across both feet in a fighter’s stance, his eyes narrowing to cold slits as he assessed the situation. Morpheus pushed off the wall where he had been leaning, his posture changing from relaxed to alert in a heartbeat, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to spring into action.
They knew.
They were my brothers. They fought beside me, bled with me, survived countless battles at my side. They could read me like no one else could.
They could hear it in that growl. A low, guttural, primal rumble. Could see it in the way my body had gone predator-still, every instinct locked onto the stairs, onto the prey descending toward me. My breathing had changed. It was slower, deeper, more controlled. My pupils dilated. Every sense was heightened and focused like a laser on that staircase.
And then she appeared at the top of the landing.
Alex.
Carver’s hand was clamped around her upper arm as he dragged her down the stairs. She stumbled, her legs shaking so badly she could barely keep her footing. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and glassy with terror.
And her throat.
Fuck, her throat.
The bruises had darkened overnight. Deep purple and black, the clear imprint of my fingers branded into her skin. She looked like she had been strangled. Which she had been. Nearly to death.
My pupils dilated as my vision sharpened until all I could see was her. Everything else in the room faded to a blur.The other people, the furniture, the sounds, until she was the only thing that existed in my world. The way her chest heaved with panicked breaths, rapid and shallow, each exhale catching in her throat. The way her hands trembled, fingers twitching and curling into fists before releasing again, as if she couldn’t decide whether to fight or flee. The way her gaze darted around the room, wild and desperate, taking in the concrete walls with their chipped gray paint, the bare bulb swinging slightly overhead and casting harsh shadows across her face, the officers watching her with cold, impassive expressions. She was magnificent. Absolutely breathtaking in her terror. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, like a cornered animal that didn’t yet know it had nowhere left to run.
And when her eyes landed on me, everything stopped. Time seemed to freeze in that single, suspended moment. My brothers around the room faded into nothingness. The conversations, the worry, all of it dissolved into silence. Nothing existed anymore. Just the predator and his prey. Just her piercing gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. In that instant, I understood what it meant to be truly seen, to be hunted, to be chosen.
I didn’t think about it. I didn’t plan it. My body justmoved, closing the distance between us in two long strides, my hand already reaching for her, only to be stopped mid-stride as Morpheus’ hand clamped down on my shoulder.
Hard.
His grip was like iron as his fingers dug into my muscle. My body jerked to a halt, every instinct screaming at me to shake him off, to keep moving, to get to her.
But I didn’t. Because Morpheus’ hand wasn’t just a physical restraint.
It was a warning.
Control yourself, or I’ll put you down.
I stood there, frozen, my breathing harsh and ragged, my cock throbbing so hard I could feel my pulse in it. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides. My entire body vibrated with the effort of staying still as I refused to look away from her.
“Easy,” Morpheus said, his voice low and dangerous. “You lose control, and this ends. Understood?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My jaw locked as my teeth ground together. Every fiber of my being focused on the scared woman standing at the bottom of the stairs. She was staring at me, her eyes huge, her face drained of color. She looked like she was about to pass out. Or run.
Not that she could. Carver still had her arm, his grip tight enough to leave marks.
