The weight of their gazes was almost physical.
Up close, they were sharper than I remembered from the war room—like danger had tailored itself into human silhouettes and taken seats in custom leather chairs.
Each man sat with perfect discipline, backs straight, attention fixed on me.
No smirks.
No curiosity.
Just quiet calculation.
I didn’t see a problem yet.
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.
I curled my fingers lightly at my side. I needed Kenji to start the introductions so I could see their reactions.
Alright. This is good for now.
I turned back to Kenji and gave a small nod.
The Dragon headed over, and his presence filled the room, not with noise or motion, but with absolute power. It was so hard to explain. He didn’t need to demand obedience, he simply inspired it. All of these killers turned to him and there was nothing but respect in their eyes.
Reo followed, and that same respect from the men landed on him too.
Once Kenji and Reo got to me, they both leaned my way.
Kenji’s voice had a nervous edge. “Anything?”
“Not with the Fangs, but I need to be around the Claws for a little longer.”
Reo nodded. “I’ll introduce you.”
“Perfect.”
Fuck. I hope none of the Claws are spies.
Chapter twenty-seven
The Claws
Nyomi
“Thank you, Tora.” Kenji took my hand and guided me to the end of the table where three seats were waiting.
He pulled out the chair in the middle for me.
“Thank you.” I lowered into it.
Kenji sat on my right. The moment his body settled into the chair, his hand found my thigh under the table, claiming me.
Heat bloomed where his palm pressed through the fabric.
His thumb traced a slow circle against my thigh, once, twice, grounding me with his touch while his face remained impassive to the room.
To everyone else, the Dragon sat in perfect stillness.
But beneath the table, his fingers flexed possessively against my skin, and I felt the message vibrating through his touch:You're not alone. I'm right here. You're mine, and I protect what's mine.
