Chapter Ten
Jamie woke to darkness, his mouth dry as sandpaper. Cesar’s warm body pressed against his back, one heavy arm draped possessively across his waist. A digital clock on the nightstand glowed 3:17 AM in soft blue numbers.
Careful not to disturb his sleeping pookie, Jamie slipped from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. His body ached in the most delicious ways, reminding him of everything they’d done just hours before. His knee ached dully, but the butterfly bandages Cesar had applied still held firm.
Jamie touched the mark on his shoulder, tracing the slightly raised skin with his fingertips. A soft smile spread across his face as he remembered the moment Cesar bound them together. He belonged to someone now. Not in a way that diminished him but in a way that made him feel stronger, safer. Like he finally had a place in the world.
Navigating through the unfamiliar house in the dark proved tricky. He bumped his hip against a side table, nearly knocking over what felt like a lamp. After a bit of fumbling along the wall, he found a light switch and flicked it on, bathing the hallway with soft golden light.
The kitchen was even more impressive in the quiet of night. Moonlight streamed through the windows above the sink, casting silver patterns across the granite countertops. Jamie opened the refrigerator, squinting against the sudden brightness. After he’d blinked away spots, shelves stocked with food greeted him.
It was way more than one person needed but perfect for a hungry wolf shifter. And now, perfect for him, too, though he had no idea what was in the container since they were labeled in neat Spanish handwriting. With a shrug, he pushed them aside to reach for the orange juice in the back, but a faint sound caught his attention.
Jamie froze, one hand still extended into the fridge.
The doorknob on the back door was moving, twisting slowly left then right, as if someone was testing it. The sound came again, sharper now, too quick to be the wind, too regular to be anything innocent. Jamie’s breath caught somewhere between in and out, like his oxygen had a stake in what came next.
Oh no. No, no, no!
Jamie’s heart darted up his throat like it had mistaken his body for an escape hatch.
Run. Get Cesar. Now!
Terror paralyzed him. Doce... once... diez...
The latch gave way.
Move! The command finally broke through his paralysis. Jamie slammed the fridge door shut and bolted toward the hallway, toward Cesar and safety. The back door swung open with barely a whisper. A dark figure rushed in, closing the distance between them in three long strides. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, a hand clamping firmly over his mouth, stifling his cry for help.
The smell hit Jamie like a physical blow—that same nauseating mix of menthol cigarettes and cheap booze that always clung to Rowan. Jamie kicked wildly, struggling against the iron grip. Rowan's hand pressed harder against his mouth, fingers digging into his cheeks painfully until breathing became difficult..
“Miss me, Jamie?”
Rowan whispered, his breath hot against Jamie’s ear as he sniffed along his jawline, making a low groaning sound. His face loomed close in the dim kitchen light. His skin was marked with deep pockmarks and old scars, his eyes gleaming with a predatory excitement that made Jamie’s stomach turn.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention to the doorway. Grant stepped into the kitchen, eyes cold as he surveyed the scene. His brother’s mouth twisted into a familiar sneer, the same expression he’d worn countless times before dealing out pain.
“Well, well. Little brother’s playing house with the biker.”
Those words weren’t meant to hurt—they were meant to humiliate.
“How fucking cute.”
Jamie tried to wrench free, but Rowan’s arm didn’t budge. Struggling only brought him closer, breath hot and sour against Jamie’s cheek.
Grant crouched just low enough to catch Jamie’s gaze.
“You think he can protect you?”
he asked, voice smooth, almost amused as he pulled a hunting knife from his jacket pocket. The blade gleamed in the dim kitchen light.
“Because I haven’t forgotten what he did to me in that store. Slice him open while you watch.”
Panic and rage collided behind Jamie’s ribs. Bare feet slid on the tile as he twisted hard, but Rowan held fast.
“When we’re done with your boyfriend,”
he whispered, his mouth too close to Jamie’s ear, “I’m gonna take you somewhere private. Make you scream in ways that aren’t so fun.”
Jamie thrashed harder, landing a solid kick against Grant’s shin. His brother cursed then lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Jamie’s borrowed T-shirt.
“What the fuck is this?”
Grant yanked the collar aside.
“Jesus, you’re letting him bite you like some animal?”
He shook his head, a cruel smile forming.
“Always knew you were a freak.”
This time, when Jamie kicked, he landed a blow between Grant’s legs. He wasn’t going to let anyone cheapen what he and Cesar shared. It was one thing to attack him, but Jamie wasn't letting Grant talk trash about his jellybean! And it felt good to finally strike back for once.
His brother cupped himself, face red, blowing out several breaths. In his ear, Jamie heard Rowan softly chuckling.
“You—”
Grant gripped the edge of the counter, blowing out a few more breaths.
“You little shit,”
he gritted out, pointing the blade’s edge at Jamie.
“I’m gonna make you pay dearly for that.”
Jamie slammed his elbow back into Rowan’s ribs then stomped hard on his foot. The momentary distraction was enough for him to wrench free, darting to the other side of the kitchen.
Just as he opened his mouth to scream for Cesar, a low, menacing growl filled the kitchen, so deep it seemed to vibrate the very air around them.
Grant’s eyes widened as he turned toward the hallway.
“What the fuck was that?”
Standing in the doorway, naked except for a pair of sweats, was Cesar, muscles coiled tight. Tropical-blue eyes glowed amber in the dim light, lips pulled back to reveal elongated canines. The growl building in his throat wasn’t human—it was the sound of a predator preparing to kill.
Quickly, Jamie grabbed a knife from the butcher block, holding it like a prayer. Not because of Cesar, but just in case he needed it.
Stupid Grant held his knife out, pointing it toward Cesar.
“The hell’s wrong with your eyes, man?”
“Nothing’s wrong with my eyes.”
Cesar advanced slowly, forcing both men to back away.
“But there’s a lot wrong with you coming into my house and threatening my elegido. Disfrutaré viendo como la vida sangra de tus ojos, cabrón.”
* * * *
The moment Rowan committed to the strike, Cesar stepped in and hooked his ankle low. One sweep, and the bastard was airborne. Cesar slammed a palm beneath his jaw and snapped his head back. Something cracked. Rowan hit the floor, gasping like it might help.
Cesar’s gaze flicked instinctively to his mate, only to catch Grant slipping behind him, knife pressed cold against Jamie’s throat.
His elegido stood frozen, back arched awkwardly against Grant’s chest, with a steady blade pressed beneath his jaw. One wrong breath and it’d kiss skin. Grant held him too close, using his body like a wall between them. Like he thought Cesar would hesitate.
Fury exploded through Cesar at the sight of the knife at his mate’s throat. Claws unsheathed, extending from his fingertips like lethal daggers. Amber tinged his vision as he locked eyes with Grant, his wolf surging forward.
“Let. Him. Go.”
Each word carried a promise of violence. “Now.”
Grant’s eyes widened at the sight of Cesar’s claws, but he recovered quickly, pressing the knife harder against Jamie’s throat.
“Back the fuck up or I cut him. I’m not playing.”
Jamie’s gray gaze locked with Cesar’s, wide but surprisingly steady. A hint of determination flickered across his face despite the knife at his throat.
“Last warning,”
Cesar said, flexing his clawed hands.
“Release my mate or I’ll rip out your black heart.”
Grant laughed, a nervous sound that betrayed his growing unease.
“Your mate? What are you, some kind of animal?”
Jamie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving dangerously close to the knife edge.
“This little lamb might need his big bad wolf. So I need you to huff and puff, pookie.”
“Shut the hell up,”
Grant snarled, yanking Jamie’s head back. His eyes never left Cesar.
“I don’t know what you are, but I’m walking out of here alive.”
Movement from the floor caught Cesar’s attention. Rowan slowly pushed himself to his feet, swaying as he regained his balance. His hand disappeared inside his jacket, emerging with a gun that glinted dully in the kitchen light.
Cesar calculated the distance between himself and both threats. If he moved for Rowan, Grant would cut Jamie. If he lunged for Grant, Rowan would shoot.
“Both of you,”
Cesar said calmly, even as his wolf scratched at his insides, “will be leaving my house in body bags if you don’t release my mate right now.”
Grant glanced over, saw the gun, and grinned.
“Shoot the freak, Rowan.”
With the knife still at Jamie’s throat, Grant pressed harder, breaking skin. A single drop of blood welled up, bright red against Jamie’s pale neck. It slid down slowly, leaving a crimson trail.
Time stopped.
The sight of Jamie’s blood broke something primal inside Cesar. His wolf howled, but it wasn’t just his wolf anymore. Something darker, more ancient rose within him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,”
he growled. Heat surged through his body, his bones snapping with unsettling pops. The sweatpants stretched taut over his expanding thighs until they tore apart. His face stretched into a snout, human traits vanishing as slate-gray fur swiftly covered his skin.
Grant’s face drained of color.
“Jesus Christ,”
he whispered, knife hand trembling.
In place of Cesar, an eight-foot predator now loomed, muscles shifting powerfully beneath dense fur.
A growl rumbled from Cesar’s throat, deep and menacing. His mouth opened to reveal rows of razor-sharp canines.
“What the fuck is that thing?”
Rowan yelled, gun now aimed at Cesar’s massive form.
“Shoot it!”
Grant screamed, dragging Jamie backward toward the door.
“Shoot the fucking thing!”
A gunshot cracked through the kitchen. Pain bloomed in Cesar’s shoulder as the bullet tore through muscle, but he barely felt it, too consumed by the need to protect his mate.
Cesar lunged forward, faster than either man could track. His massive claws plunged into Rowan’s chest, ripping out his heart. The gun clattered to the floor as Rowan fell in a crumpled heap.
Swinging around, Cesar faced Grant, who had backed himself and Jamie against the counter, knife still at Jamie’s throat but now visibly shaking.
“What are you?”
Grant gasped, face pale with terror.
“Every scream you caused come to collect.”
Cesar advanced slowly, lips pulled back to reveal rows of gleaming teeth.
“You’re so beautiful,”
Jamie whispered, gray eyes filled with wonder. He moved slightly, like he was forcing back his exuberance, and Cesar could see the million questions sparkling in his elegido’s eyes. The knife against his pale skin was an offense Cesar would quickly rectify.
Moving with lightning speed, he grabbed Grant’s wrist and squeezed until bones crunched. The knife fell from useless fingers as Grant screamed in agony. Jamie twisted free, diving to the side and out of harm's way.
Cesar lifted Grant by his throat, claws pressing against the tender skin but not yet breaking it. The man dangled helplessly, feet kicking uselessly in the air.
“You don’t touch what’s mine,”
Cesar growled, bringing Grant’s face close to his muzzle.
“You don’t breathe near what’s mine.”
His claws tightened fractionally.
“You don’t even think about what’s mine.”
Grant’s eyes bulged, his face turning an alarming shade of purple as he struggled for air. Cesar didn’t give a shit. Grant had abused his little brother his entire life, causing neurological problems, and kept company with a deviant who he knew had sinister intentions toward Jamie. Now, he’d cowered behind the very man he’d betrayed, holding a knife to his throat.
No way was he getting out of here alive.
“Te haré sentir cada gramo de dolor que hiciste sufrir a mi colibrí.”
“Cesar.”
Jamie’s voice cut through the red haze of rage. Cesar’s ears twitched, but he kept his eyes locked on Grant.
“Pookie, look at me.”
Slowly, Cesar turned his massive head. Jamie stood a few feet away, blood still visible on his neck and absolute trust in that gray gaze.
“Not like this,”
Jamie continued, taking a fearless step closer.
“Let the police handle him. He shot at us, broke in here. That’s enough to put him back behind bars.”
Cesar hesitated, caught between his need for vengeance and his respect for Jamie’s wishes. His massive head swung back toward Grant, who had pressed himself against the refrigerator, eyes wide with terror.
“Please, honey bunny. For me.”
Jamie moved closer, hand outstretched.
Grant made a small movement, and Cesar’s head snapped toward him, a warning growl rumbling from deep in his chest.
“Don’t even think about it,”
Jamie snapped at his brother.
“My jellybean’s already showing remarkable restraint. But if you even think of hurting him, I’ll fucking gut you.”
Even though he was in his lycanthrope form, Cesar’s brows shot up. It seemed Jamie had a hard limit, and his mate being threatened was the line he had drawn in the sand.
“Te amo mucho guerrerito.”
Just as the back door eased open, men moved in behind Cesar from the living room, weapons drawn. He’d called Matias before he’d left his bedroom, when he’d not just heard voices coming from somewhere in the house but had smelled Grant’s and Rowan’s scents.
His alpha took in the scene with a single glance—Cesar in lycanthrope form, Jamie bleeding in a chair, Grant cowering, and Rowan dead on the floor. But his light brown gaze swung back to Jamie, his features darkening “Your elegido need medical attention?”
“No.”
Jamie touched the cut on his neck then his collarbone.
“It doesn’t even hurt that much, but it does sting. Why do the smallest cuts burn so much, and why is the bartender so intimidating? Swear, you make me want to order a drink right now, and we’re not even at the bar.”
“You can never stop running your goddamn mouth,”
Grant snarled.
“Then you wonder why you got knocked around so much.”
Jamie just smiled, a calm confidence in his posture that hadn't been there before.
“That’s just you, Grant. I’m finally with someone who sees me for who I really am.”
He petted Cesar’s furry arm, like he was in his wolf form, not towering over the entire room.
“And who would die to protect me, just like I would for him.”
“I like him.”
Chopper grinned as the men agreed.
“You’re all monsters,”
Grant snapped.
“I should—”
Cesar shifted into human form just so he could slug Grant in the jaw, knocking him unconscious.
“That should give us enough time to clean up the mess with Rowan then call the cops.”
Even though Cesar would’ve loved nothing more than to permanently erase the threat of Grant, Jamie had asked to spare his brother, and Cesar would give his colibrí whatever the hell he wanted.
“I should probably put on pants,”
he said, glancing down at his nakedness.
Jamie’s gaze followed, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes despite everything that had just happened.
“I don’t know,”
he teased.
“I kind of like this look on you.”
Cesar chuckled, amazed at his mate’s resilience.
“You’re incorrigible, colibrí.”
“But I’m yours,”
Jamie replied, his smile softening.
“All yours.”
With a low growl, Cesar curled an arm around his mate and pulled him close.
“You say the sexiest things.”
His mate was stronger than anyone gave him credit for. Stronger than even Jamie himself realized.
The night had brought violence and fear into their home, but it had also shown Cesar something important. His bond with Jamie wasn’t just about protection. It was about partnership. About finding strength in each other.
And nothing—not Grant, not Rowan, not even the new hyena alpha lurking in the shadows—could break what they were building together.