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Neither when someone cut him open with so few words.

He lurched, remembering how her usually smoke and velvet voice had turned to steel and fire.

Fokk, it wrecked him.

He hadn’t even realized how much claiming her meant to him until she ripped herself away.

The worst part? The shattered expression on her face as she left.

He had not tried to stop her, nor had he fought for her.

Because what was the point?

He was the criminal, an untouchable, a man with blood and ruin in his past.

She was, in effect, Bianchi royalty who probably would have a husband lined up in no time, one who was pure and not blemished with tainted nucleic cells.

She deserved more. Better. Not a half-redeemed shifter ex-con playing at command.

Xander leaned forward, bracing both hands on the desk, head hanging.

Broken.

23

Lost Wolves

XANDER

Xander stood at the viewport in his office, jaw clenched, arms folded so tight across his chest his ribs ached.

His reflection glared back at him, tired eyes, tension simmering beneath his skin, his soul stretched like a taut wire about to snap.

The door slid open behind him with a hiss.

Miral strolled in, her boots tapping on the sleek floors.

‘You look like you want to murder, pillage, and plunder,’ she observed, tilting her head.

Xander didn’t turn.

‘Woman trouble?’ the Synth AI guessed, voice casual, but her eyes missed nothing.

‘How do youalwaysknow this shit?’

She arched a brow at his snarl and leaned one hip against his desk. ‘I have centuries of psy-ops training, strategic deduction algorithms, and realistic scenario modeling stored in my manifolds. I can read you like a mission report.’

He grunted, scrubbing a hand down his face. ‘Alright. Point made,Señorita Vigilancia.’

‘So she saw through your broody bad-boy façade?’

He scowled at the glass. ‘She’s angry. Hurt. Because I,fokk, I don’t know. Perhaps I pushed too hard, said too much. Or didn’t push enough and didn’t say what I needed to. Or maybe she just realized I’m not worth the mess.’

‘Sounds like a you problem,’ Miral said breezily. ‘You want my advice?’

‘Nada,’ he snapped, still not looking at her. ‘I want my goddamn head and heart back.’

She folded her arms, expression unreadable. ‘You sure? You look like three seconds from punching through an entire deck.’