Vow of the Predator

3

Sera let the silence stretch. She watched the dark flush deepen against his collar, the rigid line of his spine locked tight as he waited for her verdict. He didn't deny it. The syndicate's most lethal enforcer was standing in her bedroom, holding his breath just because she asked if he had been in here before.

"Open the trunk," she said smoothly, shifting the conversation.

Kael exhaled, a harsh, controlled sound, and immediately crouched beside the heavy leather chest. His large fingers flicked the brass latches open with practiced ease. He lifted the lid, revealing her neatly folded clothes and a mahogany lockbox nestled in the corner.

He didn't reach inside. He simply stood up and stepped back, giving her space, his hands retreating behind his back once more.

"Thank you." Sera knelt beside the trunk. She pulled out a few cashmere sweaters, setting them on the edge of the bed. When she reached for the lockbox, it snagged on the silk lining of the trunk.

Before she could tug it free, Kael was there. He dropped to one knee beside her, his massive frame suddenly very close. "Allow me."

"It's heavy," she warned.

Kael gripped the box with one hand. Veins corded along his forearm as he lifted it effortlessly, placing it gently on the desk. He stayed kneeling for a second longer than necessary. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. His dark eyes remained fixed on the floorboards just inches from her knee, his breathing slow and measured.

"Julian is going to try something before dinner," Sera said, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur. "He hates that the old man brought me back. He’ll want to humiliate me early to set the tone."

Kael shifted his weight. The flustered hesitation from moments ago vanished entirely, replaced by a cold, sudden stillness. The predator took over. "He won't touch you."

"I don't care if he touches me," Sera said, turning her head to study his sharp profile. "I care if he makes me look weak."

"No one will think you are weak."

"Because I have you standing behind me?"

Kael finally turned his head to look at her. Up close, the jagged scar through his eyebrow looked brutal, a violent disruption of his otherwise striking face. "Because you survived five years in exile. My presence is just a reminder of what happens if they forget that."

A sharp knock on the bedroom door shattered the quiet.

Kael stood in a fluid, silent motion that completely defied his size. In a heartbeat, his hand rested heavily on the grip of the pistol concealed beneath his jacket. He stepped between Sera and the door, his broad back completely shielding her from view.

"Who?" Kael barked. His voice was no longer the hesitant, rough scrape he used with her. It was a vicious command that promised violence.

"It's Marcus," a muffled, nervous voice called out from the hallway. "The boss wants her downstairs in the main dining room. Ten minutes."

Kael didn't relax his stance. "Understood. Walk away."

They listened to the hurried footsteps retreating down the hall. Kael slowly let his hand drop from his weapon, adjusting the lapel of his jacket to smooth the fabric. When he turned back to Sera, the icy enforcer melted away, leaving only the quiet shadow waiting for her next order.

"Ten minutes," he repeated softly.

Sera stood up, smoothing the front of her trousers. "Don't let Julian sit on my right side at the table. I hate his cologne."

"He won't get within ten feet of you," Kael said.