Like the time my favorite hoodie disappeared from my laundry line and reappeared on my doormat. It was slashed clean down the middle.
Just reminders.
I see you. You owe me.
And I was still paying. Every single month.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, tense and low, ears flattened back. The scent hit me next. Cheap cologne, sweat, and a whiff of something acrid, chemical.
Not local. Not pack. Not safe. I spun around.
The man stepped out from behind a utility pole like he’d peeled himself from the darkness. Big. Broad. Ugly scar cutting through one brow.
He was a shifter, all right. Not a wolf. Something heavier, more brute-force than finesse. He looked at me like I was something he'd scrape off his boot.
“Avery says you’re late,” he said.
My throat went dry. “I—I’m about to transfer it tonight. I have the money.”
He tilted his head, predator-smooth. “Funny. That’s what you said last time.”
My pulse spiked. My wolf itched to shift, to bolt, but we both knew I wouldn’t make it five steps. Not against him. Not alone.
“I told Avery I’d need until the end of the month,” I said. My voice trembled, and I hated it. “I’ve never missed a payment.”
“Doesn’t matter.” The guy stepped closer. “He’s losing patience.” His fists flexed, slow and deliberate. “And I’ve been told to remind you what happens when Avery loses patience.”
My back hit the brick wall behind me. Cold and unmoving. No escape.
I knew this part. The part where he threw a punch, maybe just hard enough to bruise, maybe enough to bleed. Maybe more. A mesSean Avery liked to send in bruises and cracked ribs.
My hands curled into fists, even as they shook. Then, a low growl rolled through the alley. Deep. Guttural. Bone-deep.
The kind of growl that made your bones vibrate and your instincts scream run. Avery’s enforcer stilled. I turned, already knowing who it was.
Rafael.
He walked in like a storm on legs, broad and steady, eyes locked on the goon. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a tension in his shoulders that said barely leashed.
His bear was close, closer than I’d ever felt it. Protective. Furious. The air around him crackled, saturated with raw energy.
The goon’s bravado faltered. “This doesn’t concern you, bear.”
Rafael didn’t say a word. Just kept walking until he was in front of me, positioning his body so I was entirely behind him. His stance wide, grounded.
His scent wrapped around me, rich and warm and familiar, pushing back the chemical stench of the goon. Another growl vibrated from Rafael’s chest.
It was a promise. One I believed with every hair on my body.
“This your boyfriend?” the goon sneered, but the mockery in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes. They were wary now. Nervous.
Rafael didn’t flinch. His voice came out quiet. Deadly. “If you ever touch him, I’ll make sure whoever sent you gets what’s left of you in a box.”
The guy turned pale. No more swagger. Just a fast retreat into the dark, like he couldn’t get away fast enough. And then he was gone.
I didn’t realize how much I was shaking until Rafael turned to face me.
“You okay?” he asked.
