He blanches immediately.
He tries to sputter an excuse, but the words collapse in his throat. His fear hits me in a sharp wave, and I tighten my grip until he wheezes.
“N-no, man. I was j-just talking?—”
“I don’t misinterpret people,” I say, my mouth close to his ear. “And I saw the pill, asshole. If you intended anything harmless, you would not be pissing yourself right now.”
Around us, the atmosphere shifts.
Conversations falter. Someone raises a phone. Freddie mutters something in frustration, but I barely register him. My entire attention remains locked on the man pinned beneath my hand and on the steady rise of Ruby’s breathing behind me.
She steps closer.
Her voice is soft but layered with tension. “Zane.” My name’s a hum from her chest. “Let him go.”
She is the only reason I even consider it, why I don’t drive my fist through his head. But my body is still flooded with heat and the remnants of a storm that has no outlet. The lights around us feel intrusive. The music presses against my skin. Every instinct in me demands that I eliminate the threat completely.
So I lean harder over the fucker, bare my teeth in a feral smile that makes him greener around the gills. “You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my house. Or you’ll witness the true definition of motherfucking carnage.”
Small hands wrap around my bicep.
I turn to look at her.
Her cheeks are flushed from the tension. Her eyes are wide with a mixture of concern, embarrassment, and something else I can’t quite name.
Her dress shifts when she moves, and the sight sends another hard throb through my chest.
She’s the only thing in this room…in my life…worth protecting.
She is everything.
And she has no idea how far this already goes.
She doesn’t know about what I did in the bathroom in Vegas.
Doesn’t know about the pills I sabotaged.
Doesn’t know about the pack I intend to replace them with.
She doesn’t know how long I watched her sleep afterward, already planning the future she hasn’t agreed to but will live.
Her fertile window is looming like Christmas Fucking Day.
I have counted the days three times.
Once to confirm.
Once to savor it.
Once to imprint it on my memory and pray I hit jackpot the first time.
Breed Ruby Lane until she’s carrying my baby. The first of many.
I feel her hand close tighter around my bicep, apply a steady pressure that pulls me back into myself. For once, I’m glad she doesn’t hum. No other fucker in this place deserves to hear it.
Exhaling, I allow the tension in my fingers to ease. The man stumbles away, coughing and terrified.
I let him go, because my hands are meant for her and only her.
