THE SCENT OF TREASON

CLAIMED IN ASH

The heavy lid of the trunk slammed back against the floor. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the silent penthouse.

I stopped breathing. The copper stench of torn flesh rushed into the air, mixing with the harsh chemical burn of my bleach. Inside the spell sealed box, the Crown Prince of the Northern Syndicate lay twisted and broken. The jagged ruins of his throat were on full display, a brutal mockery of his invincible bloodline.

I waited for the strike. I waited for Kaelen to tear me apart.

Instead, a low, vibrating growl started deep within his chest. It was a sound that did not belong in a luxury high rise. It was the sound of an ancient monster waking up in the dark. The sheer force of his Alpha aura exploded outward, hitting the floor to ceiling windows with such physical pressure that the glass instantly splintered.

I flinched, curling in on myself, bracing for the shards to rain down.

Look at me, Kaelen commanded. His voice was no longer smooth. It was gravel and shattered glass.

I could not move. My muscles were locked in sheer, paralyzing terror. If I moved, the predator would bite.

A massive hand clamped around my jaw. His grip was entirely inescapable, yet surprisingly careful not to snap my neck. He forced my head up. His face was inches from mine, his jaw clenched so tight the bones looked ready to break. His eyes were entirely gold now, practically glowing in the dim light, stripping away every defense I had left.

Who did this? he demanded, his breath hot against my cold skin.

I do not know, I choked out. The truth tasted like ash. I was just hired to clean. That is all. I swear.

He stared at me, his golden eyes tracking the rapid pulse at my throat, the dilation of my pupils, the cold sweat on my brow. He was listening to the erratic rhythm of my heart, searching for the spike of a lie. I prayed he could not hear the secret about my sister hidden beneath the terror.

When he found no deceit in my words, the monstrous tension in his shoulders shifted, changing into something entirely different. Something infinitely more dangerous.

His rough thumb brushed against my bottom lip, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a violent shockwave down my spine. The beast in his eyes was not just grieving. It was claiming.

A human cleaner, he murmured, leaning closer until the scent of dark pine and ozone swallowed me whole. Sent to scrub away a royal assassination. And yet my wolf is screaming at me to take you back to my territory and never let you see the sun again.

He released my jaw, only to slide his hand to the back of my neck, weaving his fingers into my hair. He pulled me up as he stood, forcing me to my feet. My knees trembled so violently I almost collapsed, but his rigid arm locked around my waist, holding me completely flush against his solid chest.

We are leaving, he stated, stepping over the ruined wood.

My bucket, I stammered stupidly, my brain misfiring under the sheer weight of his physical contact. My supplies. I cannot leave evidence.

Kaelen let out a dark, humorless laugh. He raised his free hand, and a wave of raw, violent magic flared from his palm. In an instant, a wall of unnatural blue fire engulfed the trunk, my bucket, and the b****y floorboards. The heat pushed me back, but his arm kept me anchored to his side.

The evidence is gone, he whispered, his golden eyes locking onto mine as the blue flames danced in his gaze. And you belong to me now.