The cage had fully closed, and the iron bars were forged from Jake’s relentless, golden-eyed stare. Avery could feel the heavy brass buttons of his tactical jacket pressing through the thin material of her shirt, anchoring her back against the hard, unyielding edge of the mahogany desk. The scent of him—ozone, crushed cedar, and the terrifyingly dark undertone of pure dominance—flooded her senses, forcing her raw, freshly marked throat to tighten in a desperate attempt to swallow her rising panic.
To be handed to Magnus.
The thought wasn't just a threat; it was a graphic, visceral death sentence. She knew exactly what the Supreme Alpha’s basement looked like. She had seen the structural blueprints during her initial infiltration briefing; she knew about the silver-lined chains, the wo
