I slammed my fist into the desk and typed.
You’re dead.
I watched him forward screenshots of my messages to her—and froze.
Then she called him. The call didn’t connect.
I started typing again.
If you don’t stop messaging Lielit, I’m coming to see you at 12A Trinity Walk, NW10. You will beg for death by the time I’m done with you.
I waited.
She tried calling him again.
The good little bitch didn’t answer.
His next message was to her—but it said he was blocking her number.
Whether she was a monster or not no longer mattered.
On one thing, Fenrir and I were in complete agreement—no other male would ever be allowed near her.
???
We had a woman following her, keeping me updated on her movements. Her phone was no longer accessible—for now.
I want her, Fenrir said, unwavering.
My coffee sprayed from my mouth, splattering across the file on my desk. I stared at the dark droplets blooming over the paper before yanking tissues from the drawer and blotting at the mess.
No, I said flatly.There is something wrong with her. She is all fucking wrong.
I want her kneeling on her hands and knees at our feet, he purred maliciously.
The image was agreeable to me, but I didn't like it. She was dangerous, and this was precisely why. She was changing me—us.
We have nothing on her, I snapped at him.
He enjoyed what I did to women—reducing them to vessels, objects to be used and discarded—but he’d never shown interest beyond that.
Why?I pressed.
Fenrir was silent for a beat.
Power. She feels like an enemy. A threat. I want to see her yield to me. Her scent…
He paused, choosing his words with care.
…it’s the only one that doesn’t repel us.
The accuracy of his words hit home.
I could pull strings and make her company bleed. None of it legal. Or I could threaten her family. Those were the only pressure points that might make her bend.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” I snapped.
