5
1099 Words
Raven’s POV.
The Ironfangs are moving another shipment. Bigger this time—guns, crates, enough firepower to turn the streets into a warzone. If it goes through, if they deliver, every pack in the state will either bow to them or burn.
Unless I make sure that the shipment never arrives.
I pore over the intel spread across my workbench: maps, scribbled notes, blueprints stained with oil. My garage reeks of gasoline and rust, engines scattered around me. This place has always been my sanctuary, my coffin, my church of revenge. The walls are scarred concrete.
And tonight, it feels like a cage.
My plan is simple. Sabotage the convoy before it reaches the border. Plant evidence—an emblem, a blade, something with Cole’s scent to make them turn on their own. Watch them tear themselves apart.
It should thrill me. It should be enough.
But every time I imagine it—Cole’s name cursed, his brothers’ knives turned on him, my chest aches in a way I don’t understand.
I shake it off. My anger is increasing. My scars burn, my brother screaming in my memory. I can’t forget the m******e. I won’t. The Ironfang emblem, painted in blood. The smoke, the fire, the screams.
Revenge is the only thing keeping me alive.
And Cole—Cole is nothing but a complication.
Except…
The bond.
It won’t shut up. It stalks me, dragging his scent into my lungs when he isn’t here, his silver eyes burning behind my lids every time I close them. The memory of his weight, his mouth a breath away from mine in the desert. My wolf writhes, restless, furious at my resistance. She wants him. She needs him.
I hate her for it.
The sound hits me before I sense him—boots against concrete, steady, unhurried.
My head snaps up and I sense his scent.
He’s here.
Why is he here?
How did he find me?
Does he know anything?
I quickly pack the evidence of my raid waiting to happen and push them away.
Cole steps out of the dark like he has always belonged in them. The moonlight cuts through the garage windows, glinting off his leather, the silver at his belt, the rough stubble shadowing his jaw. He looks like sin and salvation wrapped in one body, and the second his eyes find me, my pulse betrays me.
“Lena.”
The way he says the false name I gave him is too much.
I force a smirk, mask sliding into place even as my hands tremble. “Didn’t realize I had left the door open. You planning to stalk me forever, or just until it gets pathetic?”
His mouth tilts into a ghost of a smile. “Depends. You planning to keep running?”
The words cut deeper than they should.
I shove back from the workbench, crossing my arms like I can cage my wolf in my chest. “What do you want?”
“Answers.”
“Try Google.”
“Don’t play with me, Lena.” His voice drops lower. “You’re hiding something. I can smell it.”
He moves closer, step by step, and my body betrays me—heat pumping through my veins, my wolf pacing like prey.
“You are delusional,” I say, though my voice is softer than I want.
“You think I don’t see it?” His eyes narrow, silver burning. “The way you look at me like you want to kill me…or kiss me.”
My breath catches.
I laugh harshly, brittle. “Maybe both.”
He’s close now, close enough that the heat of him presses against my skin, close enough that I can see the scar under his eye, the one that wasn’t there the night of the m******e.
“Why me?” he demands. “Out of everyone you could hunt, why keep circling me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snap, but my voice shakes.
He cages me in before I can move, one hand slamming against the wall of the garage beside my head. The hit reverberates through my bones. His other hand mirrors it, boxing me in.
I’m pinned. Again.
And gods help me, I don’t want to be free.
My wolf presses forward, claws scratching at my ribs, desperate to touch, to taste, to claim. The bond is molten now, searing through my veins, impossible to ignore.
I want him. I want him to claim me.
Fuck.
“Tell me,” he growls, eyes searching mine. “Tell me why it feels like I will die if I let you go.”
The words slice through me, dangerous and raw.
I should lie. I should spit in his face, call him a fool.
Instead, my lips part, my voice trembling. “Because you’re not supposed to want me.”
His jaw tightens. His breath roughens.
And then everything unravels.
He moves forward, and I meet him halfway, fury and hunger colliding in a kiss that feels like war.
It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. Its teeth and want, lips crashing, hands gripping at leather. His mouth claims mine like he is starving. I bite back, drawing blood, and he groans into it like pain is the only language we both speak.
Something rattles behind me. His body presses hard against mine, heat flooding every inch of me. My hands fist in his jacket, pulling him closer even as my mind screams to push him away.
Every scar, every wound, every secret—none of it matters when his mouth is on mine. The bond pulls, drowning everything else.
This kiss isn’t salvation. It’s damnation. And I’m lost in it.
When we break, it’s only because air is no longer optional. Our foreheads crash together, breath mingling, ragged and desperate.
“This will destroy us,” I whisper.
His silver eyes burn like the moon itself. “Then let it burn.”
I almost kiss him again. Gods, I want to.
But then—
The sirens.
Sharp, wailing, cutting through the night.
We freeze. The sound grows louder, echoing off the garage walls, red and blue lights flickering against the windows.
Not cops. Worse.
The cartel.
They have found my place. He probably led them here.
Cole’s hand tightens at my waist, his body already shifting between me and the threat. Like he wasn’t the one who led them here.
The kiss still burns on my lips. The bond still screams in my veins.
And I have no idea if Cole already knows my real name.
- Writer
