Amelia didn’t sleep after that.
Even with Lucian curled around her like a shield—like chains—she lay there in the dark with her eyes wide open, pulse skittering like a trapped thing.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dominic’s face.
His rage. His fists.
The way he’d looked at her like she was nothing.
But what scared her more…
Was the way Lucian looked at her now.
Like she was everything.
A prize. A possession. A thing he’d bled and killed and burned for.
⸻
By the time the knock came at the cabin door, the sky was steel-gray and heavy with storm clouds.
Lucian froze.
His body went still as a predator’s before the pounce.
The knock came again—louder.
Then a voice.
“Open the f*ing door, Lucian. I know you’ve got her.”
Amelia’s blood turned to ice.
She knew that voice.
