The safe house was silent, save for the rhythmic *thud-thud-thud* of Elena’s heart against her ribs. Outside, the wind howled through the ancient oaks, but inside, the air was thick and heavy, charged with the scent of gun oil and the primal intensity that radiated from Julian.
He stood behind her in the soundproof basement range, his large body a warm, solid wall against her back. He wasn't the billionaire CEO now, and he wasn't just the Biker President. He was an instructor, a guardian, and a predator teaching his mate how to kill.
"Focus, Elena," Julian whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "The gun is just an extension of your arm. Don't fight the recoil. Absorb it. Breathe with the metal."
He reached around her, his hands covering hers on the grip of the matte-black semi-autom
