Chapter 28 Aniyah
ANIYAH
The pulsing warmth low on my back was impossible to ignore, an ever-present thrum, a siren’s whisper reminding me of the unfinished, tangled mess I had with the five men in my life.
It didn’t hurt anymore, not physically, but the way it called to me, the way it licked through my veins with need every time one of them got close, made me feel like I was walking around with a live wire pressed to my spine.
It wasn’t just hunger and lust. It was longing. Rightness. Every time I brushed my fingers against one of them, leaned too close, or let them touch me, it felt like I was slipping into something inevitable, natural, like breathing.
It scared the hell out of me because I liked it. I liked it too much, and that... annoyed me.
I didn’t want to crave them. I didn’t want this ache to rise every time Maso growled low in his throat, sending a ripple down my skin like a damn echo of pleasure.
I didn’t want to hear him say how good it felt to let his full self out with me, how I made him feel safe enough to lose control.
I didn’t want to imagine what other sides they’d show me.
What other pieces of themselves they’d give if I just let them in.
I had some pretty awesome tricks up my sleeve, dammit.
Moves that would leave their heads spinning if I let loose.
Thinking about having all of them in one room, the six of us letting go and just doing what felt good…
. What would it be like to have the others under Ras’ power?
Could he only release it when I came, or was it when anyone came?
Did Maso like to be chained up, or could I try tying him up in a silk rope?
Feeling both Van’s pleasure-filled side with Alic’s rough heat?
Lucus’ commanding tone telling me what to do to them?
All of it excited me so much my thighs clenched.
A quiet voice kept whispering behind my eyes, beneath my skin.
Even with all your tricks, are you sure you’re enough?
When it’s time to show them all of you, powers and all, will you be what they want most?
A shiver slid down my spine as my throat went dry.
Or will your power show you the heartbreaking truth? What will you do then? Will you still be excited? Will you still be the Syndicate leader you need to be?
I couldn’t afford to be soft. I had a legacy to uphold, a role my family was counting on me to step into. I couldn’t let that unravel because some glowing bond decided to feel everything I was trying to ignore. I couldn’t be ruined by the truth. Not by this.
Be smart. Be strategic. Let them touch. Let them taste. Let them fall.
But don’t fall back.
The heat pulsed again, deeper, sharper, almost desperate now, as if the mark on my back were screaming at me, trying to drag me down into something bigger than lust. Something that felt suspiciously like... surrender. Like bonding. Like wholeness.
No.
I staggered, just for a second, but it was enough to break the illusion of control. Alic’s arm shot out, steady and strong, catching me before I tipped. His large hand was warm on my shoulder, grounding.
“You okay?”
That voice. That tone. It was gentle in a way it had no right to be. Even worse, it felt safe. The kind of safe that made me want to lean in, let go, and pretend, just for a breath, that I didn’t have the weight of a throne strapped to my spine.
But I couldn’t.
Swallowing the urge, I forced my emotions down, cutting off the heat, the bond, the need like it was nothing more than static in my head.
“I’m fine.” My voice came out steady, controlled. I smoothed my hands down my shirt like it could press me back together, like I wasn’t already unraveling at the edges.
“Let’s go see what the hound has found for us.”
I caught Alic’s glance over his shoulder at Maso, catching something unreadable in his expression. I ignored it.
Didn’t comment.
Didn’t flinch.
Instead, I turned around, heels clicking like war drums against concrete, and stalked off into the container yard, hoping they couldn't see that I was still burning from the inside out.
We moved through the maze of towering shipping containers, the scent of metal and salt hanging heavy in the air.
Alic scanned the rows like a bloodhound, occasionally pausing before gesturing us in a new direction.
Eventually, I spotted her, a short, tan, curvy girl casually leaning against a faded blue container like she had all the time in the world.
The moment she saw us, she straightened and stuck her hand out with an easy grin. “Nice to meet you, Miss Glovefox. Mr. Gorgof. And Mister…” Her gaze shifted to Maso, her hand still extended.
He stared at her, eyes icy and unreadable. “Morino.”
She gave a sharp nod and pivoted back to me, unfazed. I liked her already.
Even before she spoke again, I pegged her as a bear shifter.
Most people wouldn’t catch it at a glance, but I’d been around enough to know the signs.
While werewolves dominated the shifter population—same strain, same scent, same pack mentality—there were others, including rare strains that had come over from Faerie, including bear.
Bear shifters were slower to trust and deadly when riled.
They were excellent trackers and even better bruisers, the kind of hound you hired when you wanted something caught with minimal damage.
She jerked a thumb toward the container behind her. “This one gave me a hell of a time. Nearly took my arm off trying to escape.” She gave the metal door a swift kick. It groaned in protest, and something inside moved, the sound heavy.
“I’ll have to tack on another twenty G’s,” she added so casually you’d think she was asking for spare change.
Alic stepped forward, towering over her with a glare that practically said, “in your dreams.” She didn’t flinch, but I still lifted a hand to cut him off.
“Ten,” I said, calm and firm. “Your arm looks just fine, so I’m guessing someone already patched you up, which means that part’s not on me.”
I flicked my fingers at the shredded sleeve of her jacket. “As for that Saint Laurent lambskin aviator, it retails for a little over seven grand. Add some mental trauma money, and you’re still walking away with a profit, so let’s not play games.”
Her smile widened into something real. “Damn. You know your designers.” She laughed under her breath. “Guess there’s no fooling the Syndicate. Bad for business, huh? Besides, my sister works under Miss Rossey. Gotta keep it clean. Family ties and all that.”
I nodded to Alic, who already had his phone out to complete the transfer.
“So,” I said, tilting my head. “Why not join the fold?”
She let out a long, exaggerated sigh, eyes rolling as if she’d heard that question a hundred times.
“It’s a me thing,” she said, her voice more thoughtful now.
“After I left Faerie, I realized I can’t handle being under anyone’s thumb.
Even the best bosses eventually make you choose between yourself and the mission.
” Her smile dimmed, lips twitching into something bitter. “I always lose when I play that game.”
I nodded once without judgment. The Syndicate only recruited the willing. We didn’t trap or manipulate. Loyalty was worth more than control. If she wasn’t in, that was her choice, and we respected that.
Her phone chimed. She checked it, tucked it away, and handed me a small remote. “That’s what I like about you Syndicate folks,” she said with a grin. “Always pay up fast. Always ask, never push. That’s how real gangsters roll, keeping the street cred polished.”
I crossed my arms, returning her grin with a smirk of my own. “Yet there’s always someone who thinks they can do it better.”
She laughed and clapped her hands together. “Yup. And then you crush their skulls like soda cans and move on. Circle of life. There’s always gotta be some dumbass trying their luck.”
I shrugged, done with the small talk. My focus returned to the container. “He locked or loose?”
Instead of answering, she turned on her heel, strolled to the nearby fence, and scaled it in one smooth motion, more feline than bear. Perched at the top, she looked back over her shoulder and winked.
“Locked up. I’m a professional, ya know.” With that, she dropped down the other side and disappeared into the dark.
I thought about having her tailed as I watched the spot where she vanished. A unique shifter like her could be useful, and with her family already in…. Then I remembered that we had enough weirdos. We needed more sane employees even if the weirdos were more fun.
“Alic,” I said, my voice calm but commanding, “I need you to stay out here and keep watch while I get the information out of him.” My cells buzzed at the thought of making this man bleed.
Before I could take a step inside, he stepped forward into my space, eclipsing the moonlight with his sheer size. His shadow cast over me like a protective shroud, but it was the way he moved that threw me off. Gentle. Deliberate. To him, I was something precious, something breakable.
“You don’t need to get your hands dirty,” he said quietly, reaching for my hand.
I blinked as his fingers closed around mine, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. Soft. Reverent.
Then, as if that weren’t enough to send my mind spinning, he lifted my hand and pressed a featherlight kiss to it.
I just stood there, staring at him like he’d grown a second head or ripped out one of his own eyeballs. What the actual fuck?
Peeking around his mountainous shoulder, I scanned the area, half-expecting a camera crew to pop out, announcing the prank was a success. “Who the fuck is this,” I muttered, “and what did you do with Alic?”
He gave me a rare smile, a real one, and just like that, my usual sarcasm shriveled on my tongue.
“I’m just done fighting you,” he said, and something in his voice made my chest tighten.