The SUV smelled like leather, rain, and wolf. Sofia sat rigid in the back seat, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she could shield her unborn child from the entire Blackwood Pack. Marcus sat beside her, silent and watchful. Two other wolves occupied the front seats, their eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few seconds.
No one spoke for the first ten minutes.
Rain hammered the roof like impatient fingers. Sofia’s cheek still stung from the rogue’s slap, and her wrists burned where the zip ties had cut in. But the real pain was deeper — the constant, throbbing ache of the broken mate bond that had flared back to life the moment Marcus’s wolves appeared.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she finally said, voice hoarse. “I was handling it.”
Marcus let out a low breath. “Handlin
