Page 128 of Mystic's Sunrise

She stepped closer, her anger zeroed in on me. “You think you can just walk back in and take what’s mine?”

I didn’t answer. Some things weren’t worth reacting to. This was one of them.

Her voice rose, hot and shaking. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Drago is with me. You don’t get to—”

The slap hit like lightning.

The crack echoed off the walls. My head jerked to the side, pain blooming hot across my cheek. A breath caught in my throat, but I stayed still. Trying hard not to react.

But Drago did.

His entire body tensed, a slow exhale hissing between his teeth, the kind that came just before something snapped. And then he moved, fast and lethal.

He had her by the throat before she could blink, lifting her clean off the floor and slamming her against the wall. Her feet kicked out uselessly, hands clawing at his grip as her breath wheezed through her constricted throat.

“You touch her?” His voice was deep, guttural, poisoned with fury. “You fuckingtouchher? That’s my ol’ lady you fucking cunt.”

I stepped forward without hesitation, my hand pressing gently to his forearm, feeling the taut muscle beneath his skin. His grip didn’t loosen. Not yet.

His rage was a living thing, coiled and hungry, vibrating through his bones.

“Drago,” I whispered, the word barely audible, but it was enough. His breath came fast, chest rising like he’d just run miles, and his fingers twitched around her throat.

I ran my fingers over the back of his hand slowly, grounding him the only way I could. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “Let her go. Let’s go to our room and be alone. We’ve been apart too long and I’ve missed you.”

His eyes snapped to mine, wild, searching, unsure if I was real.

I held his gaze, steady, calm, my expression unreadable. I let him see what he needed to see.

A long beat passed, slow and heavy.

Then finally—he dropped her.

She crumpled to the floor, coughing violently, clutching her neck. Drago turned to me, his hand cupping my cheek, thumb grazing the edge of the fresh handprint she’d left. His eyes softened in that broken way they only ever did when he looked at me.

“She had no right,” he muttered.

I shook my head gently. “It doesn’t matter.”

But to Drago, it always mattered. The nod he gave to Fang across the room said everything. She’d pay for what she did, whether I wanted her to or not.

***

HIS FINGERS SLIDover the cheek he’d just inspected,not rough but not gentle either, just deliberate. Like a man trying to memorize something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to touch again. His hand lingered there, thumb tracing the edge of my jaw, his palm a familiar weight I’d never quite escaped. The look in his eyes was worse—starved and drowning, like the longer he stared, the less real I became.

I didn’t move. He liked that.

He liked when I stayed still.

He liked to pretend Iwantedto be here. That Ichosethis.

“Let’s go,” he muttered, his voice soft, clipped. His arm wrapped tight around my waist, dragging me against him, closer than I wanted, closer than I could stand. He was vibrating with tension, barely restrained violence thrumming beneath his skin.

He guided me down the hallway with quick, deliberate steps. The smoke stained walls, the sticky floor, the low murmur of voices behind us—it all blurred. I didn’t look back. Not at the woman on the floor still gasping for breath. Not at the men who watched and did nothing. This was their world, and Drago didn’t just rule it.

Hewasit.

At the end of the hall, he threw open the door to his room, nudging me inside, and kicked it closed behind us. The lock clicked into place with a sharp finality, louder than it should’ve been.