Page 77

T he muscles twitch in my face as I jerk awake, eyes flying open in the brightness of the afternoon sun filtering into my bedroom. The door swings inward with a creak, too hurried to signal an intruder. I roll onto my back, squinting toward the movement—Hayes leaning in with a quizzical arch to one brow. Realisation trickles through the lingering fog of sleep as my gaze swivels to Briar’s nude form sprawled beside me, sheets tangled around her hips.

Shite. Last night hadn’t been some weed-induced fever dream then. Somehow, this radiant bird had landed in my bed, seeking solace from night-terrors or some bollocks. I vaguely remember running on autopilot, guiding Briar into my bedroom to slip beneath the sheets. Her body tucked up next to mine, flesh warm and comforting against my chest.

With a groan, I lick my dry lips and slip out from under the covers, already sensing there’s something amiss if Hayes has barged in here first thing. “Woken the beast, have I?” he mutters, tone dripping with dry sarcasm.

“Easy, mate.” I wave a dismissive hand, ignoring the caustic quip as I scrub sleep from my eyes with the heel of my palm. “What’s got your knickers in a twist already?”

Hayes’ features harden, lips thinning to a grim line. “The Enforcers dropped Arius off at our dorm about five minutes ago… let’s just say he’s seen better days.”

“Fucking hell.” The air evacuates my lungs in a hissing exhale as I straighten from the edge of the mattress.

Arius, our unyielding leader reduced to… what, exactly? Injured? Bloodied? There’s no telling, but any scenario is enough to chill my blood. The bloke’s an unstoppable force—only the cruelest of fates could bring a man like that to his knees.

With a savage shake of my head, I pad over to the dresser and yank open the top drawer. My gaze darts sideways to find Briar propping herself upright, the sheets slipping to reveal every luscious curve and hollow as she runs slender fingers through her tousled hair.

“Jace is already working on it?” she murmurs, unfazed by her state of undress.

I dig out a faded black shirt and toss it to land beside her. “Here, you’d best slip that on. We need to get over there, no time for your clothes.”

She flashes a soft smile, one that twists in my gut with its genuine sincerity, then tugs the oversized tee over her head in one fluid motion.

“So what’s the situation?” I press Hayes while Briar contorts to allow the material to slide over her ample breasts. “Did those twisted fucks put Arius to the whip or something?”

He purses his lips grimly, lashes flickering shut in a blink that speaks volumes in the weighted silence. Of course they did. A tremor of revulsion shudders through me, a chill that prickles with the phantom sting of the lash’s bite.

“Fuck…” The expletive hisses from between gritted teeth as I rake both hands through my dishevelled hair, nails scraping my scalp.

Briar rises from the mattress with fluid grace, t-shirt hanging to her shapely thighs like some depraved temptation. Hayes turns on his heel without another word, fully expecting me to trail in his wake. Not that I have much of a choice—we’re all Arius’ men, through and through.

Squaring my shoulders, I motion for Briar to take the lead, watching with smouldering approval as she saunters toward the door. The tee rides up with every step, offering teasing glimpses of her pert, peachy arse cheeks peeking out from beneath the hem. Christ, the woman’s a goddess sculpted from sin itself, and that delectable body belongs solely to me in these stolen moments where I can watch without having the pressure of other eyes.

Well, for now, at least…

Shaking off the possessive grip of lust, I hurry to catch up with Hayes as he strides through the living room. Briar scurries ahead, bolting out the front door into the hall beyond with her blonde tresses billowing like a silken banner. The delicate scent of her perfume lingers behind, leaving me to inhale the sweet fragrance like a starving man gulping rarefied air.

I exit the bedroom, footsteps falling in sync with Hayes as we trail after Briar’s swift departure. She’s already halfway down the hallway, slender legs propelling her forward with an urgency I can’t help but admire. The faded black shirt clings to the gentle swell of her hips with every purposeful stride, shifting just high enough to tease fleeting glimpses of toned thighs.

Part of me aches with jealousy at her single-minded determination to reach Arius—that instinctive desire to be at his side no matter the circumstance. Yet the rest understands this is simply how things must be, no matter how my baser urges might protest. I’m grateful for the rare moments when fate allows any of us to bask in Briar’s radiant light, regardless of how it comes.

Like last night…

Just holding her, skin feverishly warm where it pressed against mine beneath the sheets, had been a soothing balm in itself. Not a single carnal thought had tainted the solace we found tangled together, her golden tresses splayed across the pillowcase while soft puffs of breath danced over my bicep. For those precious hours, Briar hadn’t been some unattainable prize—just a woman in need of a safe harbour from the raging storms. And she’d been mine.

I’ll cherish the memory until fate grants another opportunity to be her shelter.

Shoving aside the wistful thoughts, I round the corner into the neighboring dorm with Hayes at my side. Briar’s already slipped through the partially ajar door, no doubt drawn by sounds of distress filtering out into the corridor. Exchanging a grim look with my mate, I angle after her into the open-concept living space.

Raised voices drift from one of the bedrooms, cutting through the ambiance with harsh clarity. Jace, by the sounds of it, his usually genial tone warped into strained curses.

“—bleeding all over my fucking Egyptian cotton, mate. You owe me a new bedspread.”

“Why don’t you stuff it up your arse, you fucking ponce?” Arius’ gravelly bass reverberates off the walls in a savage snarl. The flung insult holds no true weight behind it, acting as a simple placeholder, but my jaw tightens instinctively at the blatant torment woven through each bitten-off syllable.

Whatever sadistic bullshite the Enforcers unleashed, it’s clearly taken its toll on our leader’s formidable constitution. The realization is far from reassuring—it’s one thing to bear the brunt of the whip’s lash myself, quite another to witness Arius reduced to such a state.

Walking wordlessly beside Hayes, I veer off toward Jace’s bedroom and shoulder my way inside, gaze swiftly assessing the situation.

Arius lies prone on the king-sized bed, a veritable ruin of savaged flesh and bruised, swollen features even from this oblique angle. The intricate scrollwork of ink that normally adorns his shoulders and lats is damn near indistinguishable, lost amidst the bruising and torn flesh. Ragged wounds crisscross the broad expanse of musculature in a macabre latticework of crimson tributaries, sluggishly weeping with every laboured rise and fall of his chest.

Christ, those twisted fucks truly worked him over…

Bile burns acrid in the back of my throat as I flick my attention to Jace. He kneels on the opposite side of the mattress, shoulders hunched with concentration while nimble fingers work to suture the worst of the lacerations with deft, methodical motions. Surgical tools and rolls of sterile bandages litter the expanse of rumpled sheets between their bodies—a miniature triage station amidst the plush surroundings.

A flash of golden hair snags my focus, Briar’s lithe form perched on her knees behind Jace. Solemn azure eyes track every dip and weave of the needle, lips compressed into a tight line while her palms splay overtop Arius’ bicep, nails digging into corded muscle. Grounding him, no doubt. Anchoring him through the agony in whatever small way she can.

The sight twists like a serrated blade between my ribs, sharp envy lanced through the marrow. How I’d kill for her to display such unflinching devotion to me, even if only once…

Swallowing the bitter surge, I approach at an angle toward the foot of the bed, gaze sweeping past the vivid crisscross of wounds to settle on Arius’ face. Bone-deep exhaustion etches itself into the hard planes despite his outward bluster, eyelids drooping to half-mast while his jaw clenches in a pulsing tic.

The movement draws his attention, dark eyes slanting my way through a haze of pain and fatigue. One thick brow wings upward in a silent acknowledgment I’ve grown accustomed to over the years—that near-imperceptible shift that signals he’s fully aware I’m intruding into his space. Most would interpret it as dismissive arrogance.

The exchange passes in a handful of seconds, yet those few instants stretch into an eternity of crackling tension. Until Arius’ lip abruptly curls in a contemptuous sneer that shreds any illusion of tranquility.

“Have fun letting Briar ride your cock last night while I got the shite whipped out of me? Must’ve been one hell of a romp for her to be wearing your fucking clothes.” The derisive accusation slices through the strained atmosphere like a scythe through wheat. My spine stiffens ramrod straight as all sound evacuates from the bedroom, the very air suspended in a vacuum of shocked silence.

Even Jace pauses, needle poised mid-stitch as he tracks the scene unfolding from the corner of one eye.

Acrid heat rushes into my face, searing shame and anger warring for dominance in the wake of Arius’ crass insinuation. I open my mouth, jaw working as I struggle to formulate some scathing retort that might sear his presumption from existence— but the words won’t fucking come, lodged in my throat alongside bitter humiliation.

Briar stirs first, fingers tightening infinitesimally over the rippling sheets of Arius’ back. “All I needed was someone there, Arius,” she murmurs, tone low yet unyielding. “That’s all. Nothing more. Don’t bite ’ head off just because you feel like lashing out at someone.”

His head lolls to one side with excruciating slowness, gaze swiveling until he can pin her with eyes of molten obsidian. I hold my breath without realizing, some primal instinct stilling my lungs for the agonizing moment it takes him to process her quiet statement.

Then, incrementally, the tension bleeds from his expression until only resigned weariness remains etched into those harsh features.

“Yeah?” The syllable grates out on a rumbling sigh, the fight seeping from Arius’ frame until he’s naught but a shadow draped across the sheets. “Well… reckon we all need that sometimes.”

An unspoken concession, the closest to contrition he’s ever likely to voice. Jace releases his own pent-up exhalation, giving a subtle shake of his head before refocusing on closing the final sutures.

My heartbeat thunders in my ears as I swallow hard over the lump of humility lodged in my throat. Arius is deflecting, backing down in rare form to avoid sparking a conflagration he lacks the energy to battle. There’s no further need for explanations or pleas—he’s dropping it for now.

For now… but how long until that volcano erupts?

Tearing my eyes from the mattress, I chance a sidelong look toward Briar. Her attention remains fixed on Arius, delicate features unguarded in a way I doubt she even realises. His scrutiny seems to have gentled into speculative assessment, the hardness in those obsidian depths inscrutable yet not overtly challenging.

A fleeting reprieve, leaving me in its wake to simply be grateful Briar intervened before any irrevocable damage could be dealt. I’ve no illusions as to how quickly Arius’ moods can darken like a summer tempest.

With a shaky inhalation, I force myself to relax fractionally and absorb the scene anew. Take stock of the situation from a clinical standpoint, rather than whatever emotional whirlwind still rages in my gut.

The worst of Arius’ wounds are slowly being sutured shut under Jace’s skilled ministrations. Yet countless others mar his brutalized back—deep scores criss-crossing every inch of flesh from nape to tailbone. Some ooze sluggishly while others clot in viscous rivers, the occasional tremor wracking his frame and eliciting a pained hiss that reverberates in the tense air.

We have no choice but to wait, powerless bystanders while Jace finishes tending to the grievous wounds. Wait and wonder what fresh hell awaits us on the horizon if this is how the Enforcers treat our leader for perceived slights. What cruel machinations are in motion, twisting and warping until the vise becomes inescapable?

Dread coils serpentine through my core as the reality settles over us all in a suffocating miasma.

This is only the opening salvo in whatever apocalyptic storm brews. Merely a warning shot, leaving us to brace for the true devastation lurking on the horizon.