Chapter 2

The mere thought of teeth—sharp, deadly teeth—sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins. My fingers tingled, and all I could think was: Get out of this cell. Now.

Yeah, if only my legs would cooperate.

Instead, I was frozen, shackled to the wall, my body stiff as a board.

Then his power hit me—an invisible wave that didn’t hurt, but wanted to connect. My skin buzzed with static, as if his presence was a live wire sparking against me. Every part of me recognized what I was facing: a predator. My hybrid instincts woke up, a primal hunger that overpowered my fear. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so alive—so electrified.

I shook off the momentary weakness. Play it cool, Phia, I told myself. Don’t let him see how scared you are.

“Took you long enough, Mr. Kind Sir,” I purred, my voice light, teasing. But inside, my heart raced. “I mean... King?” The last word slipped from my mouth awkwardly, a squeak I couldn't control. Great. Just great. I quickly smothered the urge to bolt for the nonexistent exit.

He stepped over the broken door like it was nothing, his movements calculated, predatory. He radiated a danger so intense, I felt it pressing against my chest. Anyone dumb enough to stand between us in that moment would be torn apart in a heartbeat.

His expression hardened, a dark scowl painting his features. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of sympathy for him—he was terrifying, but that scowl? It would keep even the bravest of women at arm’s length. And where would that leave me? Alone with him. Trapped in a cage with the embodiment of power.

“I was detained,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension. It was low, sharp as ice, brittle with a coldness that sent a shiver down my spine. His gaze flicked from my eyes, down to my throat—like he was considering something.

Before I could even react, he squatted beside me. Not in front of me, where he’d block any chance of escape, but off to the side. It was a subtle movement, one that showed how thoroughly he had already sized up the situation. He didn’t underestimate me. I appreciated that.

I couldn’t resist. With a small, mischievous flick of my wrist, I pressed a button on his long, dark trench coat, relishing the quiet click of it. A tiny rebellion against the weight of this moment. The silence between us was thick, charged, like the air before a storm.

His eyes flicked to mine, a sharp, narrowed gaze that seemed to pierce through me. But he said nothing—just stared. And the silence stretched.

“Um, you’ve broken my door,” I said, my voice a little too light, my annoyance too theatrical.

He shot me another look—harder this time, but still that unsettling calm. “It couldn’t be avoided,” he replied, as though the matter were settled.

I raised an eyebrow. “The shifters are going to send you a bill for this,” I quipped, crossing my arms in mock defiance.

“They can sue me,” he answered, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “I’ll deal with them.” His voice, smooth and dripping with disdain, carried a tone of authority that made my teeth grit. “Fucking dogs,” he muttered under his breath. The accent caught me off guard—something sharp, polished, yet with an undercurrent of something softer I couldn’t place.

His eyes were the most unsettling thing about him—deep, dark pools with flashes of grey-green slivers. They were predatory, demanding, and I couldn’t look away.

He continued, “I have a team of the finest lawyers in the world, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the moment to strike. The dogs who locked you away would have to be pretty clever to find me and serve me with a summons.”

I rolled my eyes. “Good to know you’ve got everything figured out.”

“I’ve been preparing for this moment for a long time,” he replied, his gaze sharp now, colder than before.

“Oh, so you’ve just been waiting for me to get locked up so you could swoop in and rescue me?” I shot back, half-teasing, half-curious. Was that the truth, or just another game?

He paused, the silence stretching between us thick with unsaid things. When he looked at me again, his gaze was intense, searching. It wasn’t a casual inspection—it was something else, something I couldn’t fully place. But it made my skin burn, and my breath hitched in my chest.

This wasn’t just physical attraction. This was something primal. Unnatural. The kind of reaction a person shouldn’t have when faced with someone so dangerous.

Jesus. This man could make any woman forget how to breathe without even touching her.

My instincts screamed at me to breathe deeper, to soak up more of him, but I fought it. I had to stay in control. The tension between us was palpable, thick with unspoken words, yet all I could do was stand there and try not to crumble under his gaze.

“Good thing you aren’t injured,” he muttered after a moment. “Or at least, you’ve healed already.”

I forced a grin, even though my insides were anything but steady. “I appreciate your keen powers of observation,” I said, stalling as I gathered enough strength to sit up properly.

I didn’t know if I could stand without falling. Everything felt off—my muscles sore from being confined for so long, my stomach weak from hunger. But if I stayed here, pretending to be weak, he’d keep looking at me like I was some fragile thing. I couldn’t let him think that.

“So…” I began, trying to keep my tone light, “you came to rescue me, right? Let’s get out of here.”

I made a half-hearted attempt to stand, but dizziness swamped me, and my knees buckled. I staggered forward, only to crash into his chest. Ouch.

But he caught me. One strong arm wrapped around me, holding me steady with an ease that made my heart race for all the wrong reasons.