Page 58 of Lock

And I lay there, still trembling, my throat tight, my chest aching, and I wanted to kick myself for reminding him exactly why he shouldn’t have touched me. There was no mark, no knot…there was nothing permanent to show what we’d done, just my scent all over his sheets and a line we couldn’t uncross.

A single hot tear rolled down my cheek. And no one was there to see it.

If my dad could scent me now, he’d know instantly what I’d done, and I should’ve panicked…but all I felt was the hollow space Silas left behind when he walked out.

8

LOCK

I bracedmy hands on the sink and stared myself down in the mirror.

I’d splashed my face, but it hadn’t done anything to cool the heat under my skin. I could still taste Kellan on my tongue.

Fuck.

I’d crossed a line I should’ve never even looked at.

He wasn’t mine.

He wasn’t here for me.

“He’s leverage.” A bargaining chip to make Rowan hand over the bastard who’d put Saint in a coma.

I had no business touching him like he belonged to me.

I shut my eyes and my jaw clenched so hard the muscle throbbed.

My name in his voice… and every part of me forgot he was my bargaining chip, not my omega.

One week.

That was the deal.

Bring me the man who hurt my brother… or I keep your kid. There was nothing in the deal that said anything about craving him.

My grip tightened on the sink until my knuckles went white.

And hearing my given name fall from his lips—Silas—hit harder than everything else. Nobody called me that. Not anymore. Lock kept the world at distance. Silas was a ghost I’d buried. And Kellan called him back like he owned him.

If any of my brothers had walked in… I didn’t finish the thought. Just imagining it made violence coil under my ribs.

Not because they’d judge me—but because I didn’t trust a single one of them to see him like that.

Trembling, soft, trusting—exactly the way he shouldn’t be around men like us… in a way I hadn’t earned. That part wasn’t for anyone else. Hell, it wasn’t even supposed to be for me. But it sure as hell wasn’t for them.

The room still smelled like us…

I still smelled like us.

Like him.

His scent clung to my sheets, my skin, my teeth, my fucking bones.

And my instincts had snapped like a frayed chain.

Christ.

I leaned closer to the mirror, taking myself in.