“They’re trying.” His tone is grim.
The walls feel smaller with every passing second, the air hotter. My pulse is a drum in my ears. I grab Gage’s arm. “Then we can’t just sit here.”
His hand covers mine, large and steady. “You’ll stay put. I’ll handle what’s outside.”
“Don’t you dare leave us in here to rot.” My voice cracks with fury and something more raw. “If you walk out that door, I don’t know what Cassidy will do, but I’m coming with you.”
His mouth twitches, half irritation, half something darker. “You don’t take orders well.”
“Never have.”
The siren bleats again, lower this time, as though mocking us with its hollow cry. Outside, the bursts of gunfire climb nearer, rattling the walls with each report. On the monitors, bright flaresbloom by the porch as shadows sweep in and out of view, swift and menacing. My chest constricts, every breath scraped raw as if the danger is already pressing against the steel door.
Cassidy grips my hand, trying to steady me, but my focus is locked on Gage. His body is coiled like a weapon ready to be unleashed, every line of him braced for violence. Then his gaze flicks down to my mouth, and the hard edge of the soldier is eclipsed by something else entirely—the raw, searing hunger that burned through both of us only moments ago.
I whisper, “If we don’t make it out...”
“We will,” he cuts in, his grip tightening. “I won’t let you think otherwise.”
He kisses me again, slower this time, his mouth lingering over mine with aching insistence, as though committing every taste and texture to memory in case the world outside rips us apart. The pressure deepens until my body surrenders, melting into his, heat unfurling in waves that curl low and hot through me. Desire tangles with fear, the two inseparable, and for one reckless heartbeat need devours everything else.
When we part, I whisper against his lips, “Then prove it.”
His silence is an answer I loathe, a void where truth should be. But the deep, primal growl vibrating in his chest when another boom rattles the walls speaks louder than words, a feral promise carved into the air—he’ll fight tooth and bone to keep me breathing, even if it costs him his life.
The safe room lights sputter once more, shadows leaping across the walls as the steel door shudders under a heavy blow. The groan of strained metal vibrates through the floor, rattling my bones. Whoever is out there isn’t just searching anymore—they’ve locked onto us, and they’re coming through.
CHAPTER 10
GAGE
The steel door shudders again, vibrating through the floor, and every muscle in my body locks into readiness. My pulse spikes, the adrenaline sharp and merciless, and my wolf claws at the edges of my control, howling for release and blood. The urge to tear into whatever waits beyond that barrier is nearly overwhelming, but I force it down.
The only thing worse than failing the mission would be failing her. If they break through, Cassidy and Sadie are finished, and the thought of Sadie’s body lying still on the ground is enough to burn through my restraint. My job is to hold this line, to stand between them and death until Rush and the others cut the bastards down, no matter what it costs me.
Then, just as suddenly, the pounding stops. Silence, heavy and absolute, smothers the room. This was not the core operation, not the hand that planted trackers or doctored glassware. Tonight’s attackers were subcontracted muscle, a mid-tier crew paid to poke the bear and bleed us if they could. Disposable men sent to test the perimeter, not the ones holding the leash.
I keep my weapon trained on the door, ears straining. Seconds stretch, long enough for the siren to sputter and die, long enough for the only sound left to be Sadie’s quick, uneven breaths behind me. That sound makes the wolf inside me restless, makes me ache to turn and shield her with my own body.
When the all-clear crackles through the comms, my grip loosens, but my body doesn’t. The adrenaline is still there, a razor's edge sliding along the frayed endings of my nerves. I open the door, gun sweeping the hall, only to find Dalton and Deacon already dealing with the dead men on the floor, smoke curling in the air.
It’s over—for now. The stench of blood lingers, bitter and metallic. One of the team is already shifted and is patrolling the perimeter in wolf form, a dark shadow circling the ranch. The remaining two are stripping the bodies of weapons and loading the dead into a pickup, grim work that will end with deep graves far from here.
Sadie glares at me, her eyes blazing. Relief, fury, and something hotter flickers in those eyes, and my control begins to shred. Cassidy has already gone to Rush, safe in his arms where she belongs, leaving me with the one woman who tests every wall I’ve built. Sadie’s alive, flushed from fear and fire, and the sight of her is enough to wreck every boundary I’ve drawn.
“Next time,” she snarls, voice trembling but strong, “don’t lock me away like I’m breakable.”
I close the door behind us, forcing her back against the wall. The scent of her skin, warm and wild, clings to the air between us. “You're a wolf-shifter, but that doesn't mean you're immortal. You are harder to kill, but a bullet to the brain or through your heart will still kill you. And if I hadn’t kept you in there, you’d be bleeding out on the floor like the bad guys.”
Her chin lifts, eyes sparking with defiance. “You think I can’t handle myself? You think I’m some society princess who needs saving?”
“No, I know you’re not. You're a major pain in the ass, and that’s exactly why you’re dangerous... to me.” My voice comes out rough, lower than I intend. Every word is a confession and a warning rolled into one.
Her lips part, ready to fire back, but the words die when I close the last inches between us. The air bristles with heat, alive with tension that wraps around us like a snare. The fight outside hasn’t drained me; it’s stoked the hunger higher, until every heartbeat feels like a countdown to ruin. My pulse slams in my throat, wild and relentless, syncing with the rapid rise and fall of her chest until it feels like our bodies are locked in the same dangerous rhythm.
“Gage,” she whispers, her tone softer now, but still edged with danger. That single word holds accusation, plea, and challenge.
My hand slides to her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. The heat of her skin sears my palm. “I should walk away. I should let this burn out before it destroys us both.”
