Page 38 of Predator (Stope Packs #4)

A week later…

Emily rocked in the chair in the corner of the refined living room, her father resting on the sofa, and Nadia in a matching chair. Caidrik and Miliki flanked the doorway, standing silent and watchful. She missed Jackson. He’d been gone for a couple of days, making sure the Granite Pack was secure. They’d found all the explosives in time, and no one had been hurt.

Her gaze drifted to her father. His color had returned somewhat, though he still barely had an appetite. “How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine,” he replied with a tired smile. “You?”

“I feel pretty good,” she admitted. The first couple of days after her kidnapping had been rough, but strength now coursed through her, deeper and more solid than before. She’d sent blood samples to Dr. Gwen but hadn’t heard back yet. Still, something inside her felt like she was healing. “Nadia?”

Nadia stirred in her chair and winced. “Just dandy,” she muttered. The silver still lingered in her system, slowing her recovery, but she was alive, and that was what mattered. They’d spent the week trying to figure out how to protect the Slate Pack, and no good answers had arisen.

The door opened, and Emily knew who it was before she looked. Her body responded instantly, her heart picking up its pace. “Jackson.” She sat up straighter, warmth spreading through her chest.

“Yeah, I’m back.” He stepped inside with snow clinging to his boots. His eyes glinted a mysterious blue, like the sky before a storm. “I have good news.”

She leaned forward, pulse racing. “You do?”

“Dr. Gwen gave me the results first.” His smile widened. “The mating’s working. Your blood shows that the genetic mutation is repairing itself. The recessive gene that caused the illness is no longer active, and your DNA markers are stabilizing. Essentially, the combination of my Alpha genetics and the mating process is correcting the mutation at a cellular level.”

Emily exhaled slowly, absorbing the words. “I thought so.” Relief and joy warmed her from the inside out.

Jackson glanced around at the room’s other occupants. “You’re all the walking wounded.”

Caidrik snorted from his post. Bruises still shadowed his neck and side, and he moved stiffly from being hit by the truck, but he kept close to Nadia, his attention rarely straying from her. Apparently, when Caidrik took on a task, he took it seriously.

Emily found herself wondering who he really was and what his story might be. He didn’t seem like the kind of male who stuck around for long.

A wave of energy stirred the air, sharp enough that Emily stiffened, and Jackson did the same. Power brushed against her skin, tugging at her senses.

“Philip Nightsom, come out, please,” a voice called from outside.

“Ah, crap,” her father muttered. He stood with a soft groan, dressed in slacks and a golf shirt instead of his usual suit. Gripping his cane, he limped toward the door. “I figured this was coming.”

Emily glanced at Jackson. “We need a plan.”

“My pack will contract to protect yours once I have enough members. I’m adding as we speak, and someday I can take over here if needed,” Jackson said. “I don’t know if your members will want that.”

It was all they had.

Together, they stepped onto the porch. About thirty-five pack members stood on the snowy front lawn, mostly heads of families and soldiers. Their breath puffed white in the cold air, eyes somber with expectation.

Raul Nelson stepped forward. A sturdy man with a miner’s build and weathered hands, he was both a foreman and a respected town leader. His gaze swept across the gathered pack before settling on Philip.

“We need an Alpha,” Raul said firmly. “And we need a plan. What do you have?”

Philip tossed his cane back into the house. “We’re going to reach an agreement with the Granite Pack for an alliance of protection. This will be just until I regain my strength.”

A low rumble started in the crowd.

Raul shook his head, his jaw tight. “I’m sorry, Philip, but no. The four packs are separate for a reason.”

Emily’s hopes crashed. What was she going to do? “I’ll step up as the Alpha.” She didn’t dare look at Jackson. “I’m no longer ill, and I can fight.”

The crowd stirred again, their murmurs blending into a steady hum of dissent. Raul raised a hand, silencing them as his gaze settled on her. His eyes and voice were not unkind, but they held truth. “Emily, you mated the Alpha of the Granite Pack. Your allegiance has to be to him. It can’t be to us. We need someone who’s fully committed to our pack.”

“I’m in,” Philip said, though his voice trembled with fatigue.

Raul’s sorrow was unmistakable. “Philip, you won’t be well for quite a while—if ever. We all know the Ghostwind Pack will come rumbling. We’ve already been approached by Bulwark McGregor.”

Nadia gasped, her breath sharp. “That asshole stabbed me in the back.”

Raul ducked his chin. “I know. But he has Alpha blood in him, and he’s strong. They’ve been adding to their pack. If he brings the Ghostwind Pack in, they’ll take over and protect us.”

Emily stepped forward, her pulse thudding painfully. “You know that’s what they want. They don’t want to be part of a pack. They want to rule.”

Raul shook his head slowly, and many of the pack members dropped their gazes to the snow-covered ground.

“I’m healthy,” Nadia said, her voice firm. “And I’m not mated. I’ll step up as the Alpha of this pack.”

Raul stared at her for several moments, his gaze serious. “Nadia, we all like you a lot, but you’re not a fighter.” His gaze flicked toward Jackson and the other outsiders. “You wouldn’t survive the trials. You know that.”

Emily stiffened. “You know about the trials?”

Raul nodded. “Yes. Every over a hundred-years-old knows about them because we were alive when Philip took over. But we’re all sworn to secrecy until a new Alpha wants to take over.”

“I’ll still try to survive any such trials.” Nadia lifted her chin.

Something inside Emily twisted and broke. She couldn’t let her sister go to her death. Neither of them fully understood what the trials entailed, but she knew one thing: Nadia had spent her life farming, not fighting. Emily could not let her die trying to save the pack.

Raul shook his head, his voice heavy with resignation. “We’re going to accept Bulwark’s offer of the Ghostwinds protecting us if he becomes our Alpha. I don’t see that we have any alternative.”

“You do.” A deep voice cut through the cold air with the precision of a blade. Caidrik stepped forward, standing beside Nadia. His eyes, sharp as flint, met Raul’s without hesitation.

Emily looked at him, then at Jackson, who only shrugged.

“What are you talking about?” Nadia asked, her eyes narrowed.

Caidrik’s low voice rumbled across the clearing. “I read the entire grimoire of this pack. A champion can step up for you to endure the trials.”

Emily turned to her father. “Is that true?”

Philip’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know.”

“Are you sure the grimoire says that?” she pressed.

“Yes,” Caidrik said. “I read the whole thing. Like I told you, I like puzzles.”

Raul exchanged uncertain glances with the other pack members. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re not an Alpha.”

“To be an Alpha’s champion, I don’t need to have Alpha blood.” Caidrik’s chin lifted. “But I do have Alpha blood, thus if I survive, I become the Alpha,” he said, his voice firm as he cut a glance toward Philip, then back to Raul. “My full name is Caidrik McGregor.”

Emily nearly sagged against Jackson as Nadia’s face paled.

“The idiot who stabbed me was your brother?” Nadia snarled.

“Half-brother,” Caidrik corrected. “I’m not with the Ghostwind Pack. Anymore.”

Jackson growled. “You kept that information from me, old friend.”

Caidrik shrugged. “Didn’t find it important. I can mask my scent like all Alphas, and I thought the Ghostwinds were in my past for good.”

Emily’s pulse hammered.

Caidrik scanned the gathered faces, his gaze unflinching. “Philip, it’s up to you. If you want me gone, I’ll leave. But I can survive the trials, whatever they might entail, and I can protect you from the Ghostwind Pack.”

Philip’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “We kicked the McGregor family out of the pack two hundred years ago.”

“I’m aware,” Caidrik said dryly.

Emily searched desperately for another option but found none. “Nadia?” she asked softly.

Nadia exhaled and crossed her arms. “I don’t know. If you succeed, does that mean I become the Alpha?” She sounded more sad than interested in that fact.

“No,” Caidrik said. “If I survive the trials, I become the Alpha. You don’t want the job and would spend your entire life fighting off challengers. I’ll take it.”

“So, I’m not necessary.” Nadia put her hands on her hips.

He turned to face her, ignoring everyone else. “Wrong. You’re part of the deal. If I become the Alpha for this pack, you become my mate.”

“Whoa.” Emily lifted both hands. “My sister is not mating someone as a deal or contract.”

Caidrik’s gaze flicked from Emily to Jackson. “It worked for you.”

Fire lit Nadia’s eyes as she stepped forward. “If I refuse?”

“Then I walk away,” Caidrik said simply. “And the Ghostwind Pack will come.”

Philip stepped forward as if to reject the offer, but Nadia’s voice cut through the air.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

Emily’s chest squeezed painfully. “Nadia, are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nadia’s eyes blazed a deep onyx. “To save the pack and keep the Ghostwinds away? Yes.”

Emily turned to Jackson, who stood beside her with his arms crossed, his eyes measuring Caidrik with the weight of an Alpha assessing a potential rival.

Finally, he nodded. “I don’t think it’s up to the Granite Pack, obviously, but we would accept Caidrik as the Alpha of the Slate Pack and a member of the Stope Packs Coalition—should he survive whatever the hell these trials are.”

Emily took a deep breath and looked at her sister. “Are you sure?”

Nadia stared at Caidrik. “Yes. Though he just might regret this demand.”

“All right.” Jackson stepped forward, sliding an arm over Emily’s shoulders. “We need to get going, Em. We have work to do.”

The assembled group began to disperse, but not before most of the members stopped to hug Emily and offer their congratulations.

“I want to throw you a bridal shower in my new home once you set the date,” Bussy told her with a wink.

Emily blushed, her cheeks heating. They hadn’t talked about a wedding or even mentioned marriage, but she didn’t have the heart to correct the older woman.

Finally, Emily hugged her father and sister goodbye, promising they’d meet up in a couple of weeks for dinner. Their territories might be far apart, but she had ideas. The Embervault Mine could serve as a meeting point for both packs. There was no reason they shouldn’t strengthen their alliance just like Seth and Erik had.

When Jackson flew her home, snowflakes drifted softly against the helicopter’s windshield, and for the first time in days, the wind kept its peace. Emily let herself relax as Jackson took her hand and held it the entire way. Her body felt stronger, her mind clearer. There was no doubt the Alpha male beside her had her heart. But they’d never talked about love.

Maybe they didn’t need to. Maybe they had something more. A shared history, shared blood, and a future that stretched out as far as the mountains themselves.

Jackson landed the helicopter and hopped out, circling around to her side. He lifted her down with ease.

“You do like carrying me around,” she teased.

“I truly do,” he replied with a grin.

As they crossed toward the truck, snowflakes sparkled like diamonds in the air, catching the golden light filtering through the forest. Jackson paused, looking up at the sky. “The clouds are clearing and the moon will soon show.”

“I know. I can feel it.” Energy hummed beneath her skin, the moon’s power flowing through her veins—strong and sure.

Jackson turned toward her, his eyes a thousand shades of blue. “I didn’t believe in love until I met you.”

Emily stilled, her breath catching in her throat. “You believe in love now?”

“I do.” His voice was low and rough with truth. “The second you were taken, I knew it. I’ve loved you since the first time I kissed you, Emily. I’ve thought about you every day since. I knew you were meant to be mine.”

He dropped to one knee, the snow drifting up around him as he moved. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a small velvet box and flipped it open.

“I know it’s old-fashioned,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “but will you marry me?”

Emily looked down at the ring, her breath catching in her throat. The solitaire gemstone mirrored the deep black of her eyes, surrounded by platinum and jewels that shimmered in the snowy light. It was stunning. Perfect in every way. Her heart swelled, the world narrowing to the man kneeling before her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Jackson slipped the ring onto her finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been waiting for her all along. She blinked against the rush of tears that threatened to fall.

“I love you, Jackson,” she said softly.

“I know.” His lips curved into a smile just before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, deep and claiming. Heat rushed through her, grounding her as much as it set her soul free.

When he finally pulled back, she was breathless. “You know?”

“Well, I hoped.” Jackson flashed his teeth in a grin. A reminder of the predator beneath his skin. But all she saw was the love in his eyes.

“Come on, Em.” He took her hand in his. “Let’s go home.”

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Loyalty is fragile. Blood is currency. And the biggest threat comes from within.

Caidrik McGregor has spent his life as a mercenary, fighting for those who could afford his blade and walking away before the dust settled. Now, he’s been offered something far more dangerous—a chance to claim the Alpha seat of the Slate Pack, the same pack that cast out his family generations ago. To take it, he must survive the brutal trials, silence the doubters, and crush the rivals waiting for him to fail. The prize isn’t just power. It’s Nadia Hodge, the newly discovered daughter of the current Alpha, bound to him if he survives.

Nadia never needed a pack, let alone an Alpha deciding her fate. She didn’t grow up with their rules, wasn’t raised to play their games, and has no intention of letting a hardened outsider control her future. But war is coming, led by Caidrik’s half-brother, and someone inside their own ranks is leaving bodies behind. If she wants to protect the people who now call her family, she may have no choice but to stand at Caidrik’s side.

With enemies circling and trust in short supply, Caidrik and Nadia must decide what matters most—vengeance, power, or the unexpected pull of a bond neither of them saw coming.

Check out the newest Dark Romance, One Dark Kiss , a sexy retelling of Snow White! Here’s a quick excerpt:

Rosalie

Alone, I cross my legs again beneath the intimidating metal table secured to the floor, feeling as out of place as a raven in a nursery rhyme. The heat clunks and whispers from a grate in the ceiling but fails to warm the interview room, and when the door finally opens, the heavy frame scrapes against the grimy cement floor.

My spine naturally straightens, and my chin lifts as my client stalks inside, his hands cuffed to a chain secured around his narrow waist. He doesn’t shuffle. Or walk. Or saunter.

No. This man…stalks.

His gaze rakes me, and I mean, rakes me. Black eyes—deep and dark—glint with more than one threat of violence in their depths. He kicks back the lone metal chair opposite me and sits in one fluid motion. The scent of motor oil in fresh rain, something all male, wafts toward me.

I swallow.

The guard, a burly man with gray hair, stares at me, concern in his eyes.

“Please remove his cuffs,” I say, my focus not leaving my client.

My client . I don’t practice criminal law. Never have and don’t want to.

The guard hesitates. “Miss, I?—”

“I appreciate it.” I make my voice as authoritative as possible, considering I’m about to crap my pants. Or rather, my best navy-blue pencil skirt bought on clearance at the Women’s Center Thrift Store. I don’t live there, but I’m happy to shop there. Rich people give away good items.

In a jangle of metal, the guard hitches toward us, releases the cuffs, and turns on his scuffed boot toward the door. “Want me to stay inside?”

“No, thank you.” I wait until he shrugs, exits, and shuts the door. “Mr. Sokolov? I’m Rosalie Mooncrest, your new attorney from Cage and Lion.”

“What happened to my old attorney?” His voice is the rasp of a blade on a sharpening stone.

I clear my throat and focus only on his eyes and not the tattoo of a panther prowling across the side of his neck, amethyst eyes glittering. “Mr. Molasses died in a car accident a month ago.” Molasses was a partner in the firm, and he represented Alexei in the criminal trial that had led to a guilty verdict. “I take it he wasn’t in touch with you often?”

“No.” Alexei leans back and finishes removing the cuffs from his wrists to slap onto the table. “You’re responsible for my being brought to this minimum-security section of this prison?”

Actually, my firm has juice and a named partner had made this happen. “Yes, and it’s temporary. You’re back to your normal cell block after this meeting.”

His chin lifts. “So this plush locale for our conference is for you, princess? The prestigious law firm doesn’t want you dirtied by the bowels of this place?”

Probably true. “I’m here to help you, Mr. Sokolov.”

His eyes glitter sharper than the panther’s on his neck. “Don’t call me that name again.”

I frown. “Sokolov?”

“Yes. It’s Alexei. No mister.”

Fair enough. I can’t help but study him. Unruly black hair, unfathomable dark eyes, golden-brown skin, and bone structure chipped out of a mountain with a finely sharpened tool. Brutally rugged, the angles of his face reveal a primal strength that’s ominously beautiful. The deadliest predators in life usually are.

Awareness filters through me. I don’t like it.

Worse yet, he’s studying me right back, as if he has Superman’s x-ray vision and no problem using it. He lingers inappropriately on my breasts beneath my crisp white blouse before sliding to my face, his gaze a rough scrape I can feel. “You fuck your way through law school?”

My mouth drops open for the smallest of seconds. “Are you insane?”

“Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage,” he drawls.

Did he just quote Ray Bradbury? “You might want to remember that I’m here to help you.”

“Hence my question. Not that I’m judging. If you want to do the entire parole board to get me out, then don’t hold back. If that isn’t your plan, then I’d like to know that you understand the law.”

It’s official. Alexei Sokolov is an asshole. “Listen, Mr. Sokolov?—”

“That name. You don’t want me to tell you again.” His threat is softly spoken.

A shiver tries to take me, so I shift my weight, hiding my reaction. I stare him directly in the eyes, as one does with any bully. “Why? What are you going to do?” I jerk my head toward the door, where no doubt the guard awaits on the other side.

Alexei leans toward me and metal clangs. “Peaflower? I can have you over this table, your skirt hiked up, and spank your ass raw before the dumbass guard can find his keys, much less gather the backup he’d need to get you free. You won’t sit for a week. Maybe two.” His gaze warms. “Now that’s a very pretty blush.”

“That’s my planning a murder expression,” I retort instantly, my cheeks flaming hot.

His lip curls for the briefest of moments in almost a smile. “Women who look like you don’t usually have a brain.”

My eyebrows shoot up so quickly it’s a shock a migraine doesn’t follow. He did not just say that. “You are one backassward son of a bitch,” I blurt out, completely forgetting any sense of professionalism.

That smile tries to take hold and almost makes it. Not quite, though. “Fuck, you’re a contradiction.” He flattens a hand on the table. A large, tattooed, dangerous looking hand. “As a rule, a beautiful woman is a terrible disappointment.”

Now he’s quoting freakin Carl Jung? “You must’ve had a lot of time to read here in prison…the last seven years.”

“I have.” A hardness invades his eyes. “You any good at your job?”

The most inappropriate humor takes me, and I look around the room. “Does it matter? I don’t see a plenitude of counselors in here trying to help you.”

“Big word. Plenitude. I would’ve gone with cornucopia. Has a better sound to it.”

I need to regain control of this situation. “Listen, Mr.—”

He stiffens and I stop. Cold.

We look at each other, and I swear, the room itself has a heartbeat that rebounds around us. I don’t want to back down. But also, I know in every cell of my being, he isn’t issuing idle threats. A man like him never bluffs.

Surprisingly, triumph that I refrained from using his last name doesn’t light his eyes. Instead, contemplation and approval?

I really don’t like that.

My legs tremble like I’ve run ten miles, and my lungs are failing to catch up. I suppose anybody would feel like this if trapped with a hell beast in a small cage. There’s more than fear to my reaction. Adrenaline has that effect on people. That must be it. I reach into my briefcase and retrieve several pieces of paper. “If you want me as your attorney, you need to sign this retainer agreement so I can file a Notice of Appearance with the court.”

“And if I don’t?”

I place the papers on the cold table. “Then have a nice life.” I meet his stare evenly.

“My funds are low. I don’t suppose you’ll take cigarettes or sex in trade?”

Is that amusement in his eyes? That had better not be amusement. I examine his broad shoulders and, no doubt, impressive chest beneath the orange jumpsuit. How can he look sexy in orange? Plus, the man hasn’t been with a woman in seven years—he’d be on fire. A little part of me, one I’ll never admit to, considers the offer just for the, no doubt, multiple and wild orgasms. “I don’t smoke and you’re not my type. But no worries. My firm is taking your case pro bono until we unbind your trust fund.”

He latches onto the wrong part of the statement. “What’s your type?”

I inhale through my nose, trying to keep a handle on my temper.

“Don’t tell me,” he continues, his gaze probing deep. “Three-piece suit, Armani, luxury vehicles?”

“Actually, that’s my best friend’s type,” I drawl. Well, if you add in guns, the Irish mafia, and a frightening willingness to kill.

Alexei scratches the whiskers across his cut jaw. “Right. When was the last time you were with an actual man? You know, somebody who doesn’t ask for guidance every step of the way?”

That fact that I don’t remember is not one I’ll share. My thighs heat, and my temper sparks. “Was this approach charming seven years ago?”

“Not really. Though I didn’t need to be charming back then.”

True. He was the heir to one of the four most powerful social media companies in the world before he went to prison. Apparently, his family had deserted him immediately. “You might want to give it a try now.”

His eyes warm to dark embers, rendering me temporarily speechless. “You don’t think I can charm the panties off you?”

“All right. You need to dial it down.” I hold out a hand and press down on imaginary air. “A lot.”

Heat swells from him. Somehow. “Dial what down?”

“You,” I hiss. “All of this. The obnoxious, rudely sexist, prowling panther routine. Use your brain, if you have one. It’s our first meeting, and you’re driving me crazy. You want me on your side.”

“I’d rather have you under me.”

I shut my eyes and slam both index fingers to the corners, pressing in. This is unbelievable.

“Getting a headache? I know a remedy for that.”

I make the sound of a strangled cat.

His laugh is warm. Rich. Deep.

Jolting, I open my eyes. The laugh doesn’t fit with the criminal vibe. It’s enthralling.

He stops.

I miss the sound immediately. Maybe I need a vacation.

Using one finger, he draws the paper across the table. “Pen.”

I fumble in my briefcase for a blue pen and hand it over.

He signs the retainer quickly and shoves it back at me. “What’s the plan?”

The switch in topics gives me whiplash. Even so, I step on firm ground again. “The prosecuting attorney in your case was just arrested for blackmail, peddling influence, and extortion…along with the judge, his co-conspirator, who presided over your trial and sentenced you.”

His expression doesn’t alter. “You can secure my freedom?

That’s my plan, but I don’t want to raise his hopes. “I don’t know. My best guess is that I can secure you a new trial.”

“Will I be free for the duration?”

“I’ll make a motion to the court the second I leave here but can’t guarantee the outcome.” I tilt my head. “Your family’s influence would be helpful.”

His chin lowers in an intimidating move. “I don’t have a family. Don’t mention them again.”

I blink. “One more comment.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m sorry about your brother’s death.” His younger brother, rather his half brother, was killed a month ago, possibly by my friend’s boyfriend, if one could call Thorn Beathach a boyfriend.

Alexei just stares at me.

I feel like a puzzle being solved. “There’s a chance his death was part of some sort of social media turf war against Thorn Beathach, who owns Malice Media.” Alexei’s family owns a rival social media platform, and from what I understand, it’s war between them all.

“So?”

This is a mite awkward. “Thorn is currently dating my best friend, so if there’s a conflict of interest, I want you to know about it.” Not that anybody would ever catch Thorn, if he had killed Alexei’s brother after the man had injured Alana. I’m still not sure he was the killer, anyway.

“Are you finished mentioning my family?” Alexei’s tone strongly suggests that I am.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He cocks his head. “How many criminal trials have you won?”

“None,” I say instantly. It’s crucial to be honest with clients. “I haven’t lost any, either.”

His head tips up and he watches me from half-closed lids. “You’re in charge of the pro bono arm of the firm?”

“No.”

“Why you, then?”

It’s a fair question as well as a smart one. “I’ve never lost in a civil trial, so the partners assigned me your case, even though this is criminal procedure.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m good and they want you free.” I shrug. “This is positive exposure for the firm.” Which is what my boss, Jacqueline Lion, told me when assigning me to the docket. “We have several verdicts being overturned because of the judge’s corruption, and yours came up, being the most high profile. Losing your case harmed the firm seven years ago.”

His nostrils flare. “The firm? The loss hurt the firm ?”

“Yes.” Damn, he’s intimidating. Do I want him free to roam the streets? “This is a chance to fix the damage caused.”

“And promote you to partner?” he guesses.

My life is none of his business. “I’m good at my job, Alexei.” Yeah, I don’t use his last name. “You can go with outside counsel. I’ll rip up your retainer agreement if you want.”

“I want you.”

I hear the double entendre and ignore it. “Then it’s my way and you’ll follow my directives.”

Now he smiles. Full on, straight teeth, shocking dimple in his right cheek.

Everything inside me short circuits and flashes electricity into places sparks don’t belong.

He taps his fingers on the table. “I signed the agreement, and this means you work for me. Correct?”

“Yes.” But I call the shots.

He moves so suddenly to plant his hand over mine, that I freeze. “You need to learn now that I’m in charge of every situation. Do you understand?”

I try to free myself and fail. His large palm is warm, heavy, and scarred over my skin, with the hard metal table beneath it a shockingly cold contrast. My lungs stutter and hot air fills them. “Whatever game you’re playing, stop it right now.”

His hand easily covers mine, and his fingers keep me trapped in sizzling heat. “I don’t play games, Peaflower. Learn that now.”

“Peaflower?” I choke out, leaving my hand beneath his because I have no choice.

“Your eyes,” he murmurs. “The blue dissolves into violet like the Butterfly Pea flower. A man could find solace from everlasting torment just staring into those velvety depths.”

I have no words for him. Are there words? Scarred, barely uncuffed, and intense, he just whispered the most romantic words imaginable. And he’s a killer. Just because the judge was corrupt doesn’t mean Alexei hadn’t committed cold-blooded murder. Two things can be true at once. “We need to keep this professional, if you want me to help you.”

He releases me and stands. “Guard,” he calls out.

My hand feels chilled and lonely.

Keys jangle on the other side of the door.

“Rosalie, this is your out. If you tear up the retainer, I’ll find another lawyer. If you stay, if you decide to represent me, there’s no quitting. You’re in this for the duration. Tell me you get me.” Fire burns in his eyes now.

I stand, even though my knees are knocking together. “I’m doing my job.”

“Just so we understand each other.”

The door opens, and the same guard from before moves inside, pauses, and visibly finds his balls before securing the cuffs on Alexei, who watches me the entire time. He allows the guard to lead him to the door.

Once there, he looks over his shoulder. “I hope you stick with me in this. Also, you might want to conduct a background check on Miles Molasses from your firm. He was a co-conspirator to the judge and prosecutor.” His teeth flash. “How convenient that he just died in an accident. Right?”