Mason’s authority feels different. Natural. Safe. Trusting.
It hits me—how easily I yield to his voice. How instinctive it feels to obey.
He scans the woods with lethal focus. His dogs melt into position—one flanking, one guarding. The storm thins just enough for me to see him. Scars cut across one side of his face, but they don’t mar his looks—they tell a story. Strength. Survival. His eyes, pale steel, land on me with heat I feel in my knees.
“Almost there.”
His hand touches the small of my back, and a current sparks across my skin. I lean into the contact, craving it like warmth and life.
I must be delirious.
A cabin emerges from the swirling snow like a fever dream of safety and strength—all raw power masked by rustic charm, just like its owner.
Mason’s hand settles at the small of my back, guiding me up the covered porch. That simple touch sends electricity arcing through my nervous system. My body recognizes safety in his strength even as my mind catalogs potential threats—a survival reflex beaten into me by Steffan.
But where Steffan’s touches carried underlying cruelty, Mason’s speak of protection and salvation.
When I dare to look up, I find his eyes on me—something dangerous flares in that steel-gray gaze—not threat but banked heat. Recognition floods me. He feels this too, this crackle of electricity between us. A magnetic pull that has nothing to do with survival and everything to do with primal attraction.
Mason disarms three different systems before unlocking the door. Each beep and click echoes in the storm-muffled air like a combination lock tumbling open.
The dogs take up defensive positions without command—Bear pressing against my legs while Chaos prowls the perimeter.
“Clear.” His voice is a growl of certainty. Commanding. Grounding. Pure alpha male, natural dominance, and protectiveinstinct.
Inside, heat wraps around me, stealing the air from my lungs.
Mason secures multiple locks and security systems. I watch, transfixed, as he strips off layers of gear. Each movement is efficient and practiced, yet unconsciously sensual.
The thermal shirt beneath clings to his torso, revealing a chest broad enough to make my mouth go dry. His arms flex as he hangs his gear—arms that could easily pin me against the wall, that could…
I can’t stop the flush that creeps up my neck.
Whoa, where the hell is my head at?
The cabin’s interior takes my breath away. Sophistication and survival blend seamlessly, with clean lines and modern technology hidden within mountain aesthetics. A massive stone fireplace dominates one wall, radiating bone-deep warmth that makes me realize how cold I am. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line another wall, crammed with everything from military tactics to medical texts.
A single king-sized bed commands the far corner, partially screened by a rustic partition. Heat floods my cheeks as my body remembers the feel of him carrying me from the snow.
Those powerful arms could so easily…
I shut down that train of thought, but not before Mason notices my reaction. His jaw tightens, muscles ticking beneath his scars.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take the floor.” His voice drops an octave, rough with unspoken things.
But Mason doesn’t give me time to gawk. He’s already moving, securing locks, and checking systems. The fluid grace of his movements—economical, purposeful, like a predator comfortable in his territory—mesmerizes me. He commands this space with absolute authority, and my gaze lingers longer than it should.
Bear shakes snow from his coat and immediately claims a spot by the fire. Chaos prowls the perimeter, alert but relaxed.
“Sit,” Mason says, and it’s not a request.
His hand settles on my lower back—firm, decisive, guiding me exactly where he wants me. The warmth of his palm burns through the borrowed jacket, and something deep in my belly clenches in response.
I shouldn’t feel this. Not after everything Steffan and Drake did to me. Not after the way they?—
But this is different. This touch doesn’t take. It gives.
I sink into the chair he’s chosen for me, and part of me—a part I thought was dead—responds to his quiet authority with something that feels dangerously close to submission. The realization should terrify me. Instead, it awakens something I didn’t know I was capable of feeling anymore.
