Now that future waited in polished mahogany.
The service began, but I existed in two realities. In one, a minister spoke of peace while mourners wept. In the other, predators circled through my earpiece: Luka tracking positions, Diego noting exits, Lo watching for threats. My peaceful world collided with Luka’s world of violence in this sacred space.
Movement in my peripheral vision made my stomach drop. Todd. Of course he'd be here; he worked adjacent to Michael's field. My ex navigated through mourners in a charcoal suit that emphasized everything I'd once found attractive. The confident stride, the perfect styling, the way he owned any space he entered.
"What's wrong?" Lo whispered.
"My ex," I muttered. "Left side, gray suit."
Lo's perfect eyebrows rose. "Oh, this should be delicious. Luka's going to lose his absolute shit."
Heat flooded my face as Luka's head snapped toward us across the garden. Even at a distance, his laser focus felt physical. Possessive. Territorial.
Through my earpiece: "Who the fuck is that? If he touches him, I'll rip his fingers off one by one."
A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with fear. The possessive rage in his voice, directed at a stranger just for approaching me...
"How romantic," Lo murmured. "Nothing says 'I love you' quite like dismemberment threats."
"Rhadamanthys is moving," Diego reported. "Approaching the north section. He appears to be watching someone."
The service concluded. Mourners began their slow procession to pay final respects. A familiar voice called my name as I stood to join them.
"Vincent!" Todd approached through the dispersing crowd. "I wasn't sure you'd be here. It's been weeks."
"I've been busy." I extracted myself. His cologne hung in the air between us, the scent that once intoxicated me now cloying my nostrils.
"We worked on the children's hospital wing together," Todd explained, his hand finding my forearm. "But more importantly, where have you been? I've called, texted, and even went by your apartment. The whole place was ransacked. Are you in trouble?"
"My apartment." Cold clarity hit me. Prometheus's men had searched the place.
"Personal matters," I said, trying to reclaim my arm.
His grip tightened. "Vincent, you can talk to me. If someone's threatening you..."
"Take your hands off my man right fucking now."
Luka's voice came from directly behind me, low and deadly quiet. Every head in our vicinity turned.
Todd scowled. "Excuse me? We're having a private conversation."
Luka prowled forward. Todd unconsciously stepped back. Smart man. Luka moved like a predator, violence seeping from every calculated step, eyes locked on Todd's hand still gripping my arm.
"I said," Luka repeated, reaching out to peel Todd's fingers away one by one slowly, "take your fucking hands off him."
Todd jerked his hand back, face flushing. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"I'm the man who's going to feed you your own fingers if you touch him again." Luka's arm coiled around my waist, yanking me against his side hard enough to empty my lungs. "He's mine now."
Before I could process the words, Luka's hand cupped my neck and hauled me into a kiss that belonged in a bedroom, not a cemetery.
His mouth crashed against mine, hungry and demanding. When I gasped, his tongue invaded, claiming every corner of my mouth, stroking against mine with filthy promise.
I fucking melted, my bones liquefying, my higher brain functions shutting down one by one until only a primal need remained.
Every carefully constructed boundary I'd built as Dr. Vincent Matthews crumbled. My hands fisted in his lapels, initially to push him away but somehow pulling him closer instead. He kissed me like he was trying to crawl inside my mouth, one hand gripping my neck while the other pressed my hips against his.
I was hard in seconds. At my patient's funeral. With my ex watching. And I didn't care.
