I don’t answer because I don’t trust myself to speak without my dragon surging up and turning everything within fifty yards to goddamn ash.
“She’s human.” Coil’s voice drifts from the shadows near the bar, a serpentine hiss underlining the words, his eyes glowing gold. “The witch’s law is absolute.”
“Bullshit!” Scar snarls, his fangs descending, his eyes bleed red. “We all know the prez has all but claimed her as his own. And we don’t abandon our own.”
The temperature in the club room drops ten degrees as I exhale, ice crystallizing on every surface within arm’s reach. Both of them still recognize the warning for what it is.
“Enough,” I demand, the single word carrying enough weight to make the windows rattle in their frames.
Movement draws my attention.
Rhett and Bennett step into the club room side by side. The hellhound’s shadows pool around his boots, and it’s restless, while divine light bleeds from the angel’s shoulders.
“We get her back,” Rhett says quietly, his usual cocky grin gone. His eyes burn with hellfire. “No discussion. No debate.”
Bennett nods, his wings manifesting. “We don’t let her go again. And we don’t ask permission.”
“The witchwillkill us.” Flux leans against the far wall, blending into the shadows. “She’s powerful enough to level this entire mountain range.”
“Let her try.” Maul steps forward with deliberate violence, his eyes shifting to amber. “Roxy’s valuable. She caught the error that would have cost us half a million. Tripled our profit margins. She’s more than useful.”
“She’s family,” Scar corrects.
Thorn moves through the club room like the forest itself carries him forward, branches creaking, thorns sprouting until he’s more weapon than man. Sap bleeds dark and viscous beneath him.
“The forest is screaming, Prez,” he says, voice rough with something that borders on alarm. “The fae know… they know about the girl.”
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to that single sentence. The fire under my ribs surges, violent and instinctive, heat slamming hard enough that frost fractures across the stone at my feet. Fear cuts through me sharp and sudden, not for myself, not for the club, but for her. Alone, human, unguarded in a world that devours weakness without hesitation.
The witch’s voice echoes in memory,‘Laws. Balance. Consequences.’
Idon’thear it.
All I see is Roxy standing in a room that can’t protect her from creatures that don’t play by human rules. All I feel is the dragon rearing, fire and ice aligning for one singular purpose.
Mine.
Anger follows fear like a blade drawn smooth and fast. The idea that I would stand here, waiting, obeying, hoping, while fae set their sights on what I claimed with blood, ice, and fire is laughable in the ugliest way.
“No,” I growl, the word carrying finality.
I straighten, power rolling outward unchecked now, the fire no longer contained by courtesy or caution. The mountain answers, stone groaning under the pressure of a dragon who has decided patience is no longer a virtue.
“Fuck the law,” I continue, my voice low and lethal. “Fuck the witch’s rules. If the fae think they can touch what’sminebecause I played obedient for three weeks, they’re about to learn how fucking wrong they are.” My gaze lifts, finding every brother in the room, each one already feeling the shift.
“I’m done waiting,” I say. “No one comes for her. Not the fae. Not the witch. Not anyone.” My dragon bares its teeth beneath my skin. “Anyone who tries goes through me.”
“Then we split forces.” Scar turns to me. “Half with you, Prez. We go get Roxy. The other half stays here and prepares. They’ll use her absence as a weapon if we let them.”
I look at my brothers, at the prospects standing together despite their differences, at the club girls moving through the background like ghosts, then at the empty dome that held my flame for centuries.
Three weeks without her.
Three weeks of watching this place die by degrees.
Fuck the witch’s laws.
Fuck the consequences.
