Charlie whines at our feet, and I reach down to pat her head.
"We're going to be okay," I murmur into Grace's hair. "I promise."
But even as I hold her, my mind is already working.
Copperhead Kings. Bronco's family. Coming for what they think they're owed.
They think she's property. Think she belongs to them because of some deal.
They're wrong.
Grace chose me. She's mine. And I'll burn Houston to the ground before I let them take her.
Let them come.
The Copperhead Kings just made the biggest mistake of their lives.
They threatened what's mine.
Now I'm going to teach them why that's a death sentence.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grace
I wake to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window and the immediate awareness that I'm not alone.
Shadow.
He's beside me in my bed, propped up on one elbow, watching me with those dark eyes that see too much.
His hair is mussed from sleep, stubble shadowing his jaw, and he's shirtless—all that ink and muscle on display in the morning light.
God, he's beautiful.
"Morning, darlin'," he rumbles, voice rough with sleep.
I stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between my thighs, the ache in muscles I didn't know I had.
His marks are still on my skin—I can feel them without looking.
Bite marks. Hickeys. Evidence of his claim.
"Morning," I manage, my own voice hoarse. Then reality crashes in. "Oh God, I need to get up. Charlie needs to go out?—"
"Already took care of it." Shadow's hand settles on my hip, thumb tracing lazy circles. "Let her out about an hour ago. She's good."
I blink at him. "You... took Charlie out?"
"Yeah. She needed to pee. I handled it." He says it like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like taking care of my dog is just something he does now.
Something warm unfurls in my chest, dangerous and terrifying.
"Thank you," I whisper.
His eyes soften. "Don't thank me for taking care of what's yours. That's part of taking care of you."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just look at him.
