I could smell their weapons.
Special Agent Morris stood near the lighting booth, her attention sweeping across the audience with the still patience of a hunter. One hand rested casually near her jacket, where I knew her weapon waited. Chen was backstage somewhere, pretending to adjust a camera rig. Snipers watched from the rooftops outside. Everyone was ready. Everyone except me.
"Nervous?" The sexiest voice ever gifted to a female came from behind me. I turned.
Tori stood a few steps away, the soft glow from backstage lights catching in her dark hair. The cameras had not yet found her, but they soon would. Her face was serene. Determined. Beautiful. The sight of her struck me with the same force it always did—a tightening in my chest, a sharp awareness that this fragile human female had somehow become the center of my entire existence.
"No," I said quietly. "You should allow me to kill him. Protect you." My hands flexed at my sides. "That is our way."
Her mouth curved. The smile was small. Private. Meant only for me. "I love it when you talk beast to me."
The beast inside my mind puffed with pride. I told him to settle the fuck down. Our mate was not impressed by primitive displays of violence. She had made that abundantly clear. She would not allow us to hunt. Not tonight. Tonight, we waited. Watched. Allowed the fragile human authorities to take Derek into custody like vermin caught in a snare.
"You do not have to do this," I said quietly. I reached for her hand. The contact was immediate and grounding. Her fingers slid into mine as if they belonged there. "I will hunt him down."
"Egon." She squeezed my hand once. The pressure steadied something inside me. "This is Earth." Her eyes lifted to mine, the emerald green accents painted around them making her look exotic. Even more fucking beautiful. "We follow the laws here. And honestly?" she added softly. "I want him to rot in jail for a really long time for threatening you." Her chin lifted slightly. "He shouldn’t have done that. Trust me. This is the best way. Death is too easy for him. I want him to suffer."
Her gaze dropped briefly to our joined hands before returning to my face. Whatever she saw there made her expression soften. “God, you look sexy in a tux.”
I leaned forward to kiss her. She blocked me with three fingers pressed to my lips. "Whatever happens out there," she said quietly, "know something. That I love you. That I choose you. No matter what he says. No matter what he does. No matter what I pretend to feel or what I say…" Her thumb brushed slowly across my lower lip. "Nothing changes that."
I pressed her hand to my mouth and held her there before I could stop myself. Her skin was warm. Soft. Perfect. "You are mine." The truth of it settled deep in my bones. "I love you, female. Do not make me regret this. If he so much as threatens you, I will kill him with my bare hands.”
My mate laughed. “You sound like a broken record, beast.”
She does not understand. She does not believe us. My beast was irritated.
She understands. Tori knew I meant what I said. But by some miracle I could not comprehend, she found my threats… cute.
The beast snorted in agreement with my assessment. Perhaps our mate is delusional.
That made me grin. I plan to keep her that way.
More orgasms. The beast agreed to my plan at once.
The sudden thunder of rotors outside shattered the moment. The sound vibrated through the walls, deep and mechanical. We both froze. The beast inside me surged instantly.
"He is here." The words left my throat in a low rumble.
Tori's entire expression shifted. The warmth vanished. Her face smoothed into something colder. Controlled. The mask she had developed for the cameras. "Showtime." She turned before I could say another word, her shoulders straight, her head high. She walked away without looking back.
I watched her go, something sharp and painful tearing through my chest. Soon. Soon this would end. Soon I could hold her again without hiding. Soon the mating cuffs would rest around her wrists and the entire world would know she belonged with me. Soon my promise to the warriors of the Colony would be fulfilled. Their chance to come to Earth saved. I would not be the reason they did not find their mates.
But first… I had to survive the next hour without committing murder.
Derek Sterling arrived like a conquering king. The helicopter descended onto the resort lawn with dramatic precision, rotors whipping the grass and flowers into violent motion. Giant screens positioned around the venue broadcast every second of the landing to the eager audience seated inside.
The moment the helicopter door opened, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Derek stepped out slowly. Calculated. Perfect. His suit was midnight black, tailored so precisely it might have been sewn directly onto his body. His hair sat perfectly in place despite the wind from the rotors. Confidence radiated from him like heat. The expression on his face told the entire story. He believed he had already won.
A red carpet stretched from the helicopter to the stage entrance, lined on both sides by thousands of roses—red, white—their scent drifting through the open doors in cloying waves as the cameras zoomed in. The floral tunnel looked like something out of a fantasy.
Chet had outdone himself.
Derek walked the carpet slowly, acknowledging the crowd with small waves and polished smiles. Playing the hero. Playing the lover returning to reclaim his woman. The audience ate it up. They did not know the truth. They did not know the man smiling for their cameras had hired mercenaries, had threatened assassination, had tried to steal my mate like she was an object he had misplaced.
The beast surged violently inside my chest.
Kill him. The command thundered through my blood. Tear him apart.
