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Silver’s essence promised passion and comfort, chased by a profound sense of peace. Mongrel’s held a wilder edge, the biting sting of living fully in the moment and embracing each day as it came. But Grimm’s influence was a supernova dragging me into its inevitable, crushing embrace.
It was all or nothing with this male.
His impetuous lips promised to consume me, one biting lick at a time. His claws would shred every single barrier of my soul’s defenses. And I knew—without a shadow of a doubt—that one taste of Grimm would commit me to free-fall. A bloody thrall which could only end in my demise.
Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to stay the fuck away. And yet, a pit opened in my stomach as soon as that wall of power—a raw, primal dominance which only moments before had made me feel so safe, so bold—was ripped out from under me.
Once the dangerous wolf stalked from the room, I was thrown back into turmoil. The trembling started immediately as my body gave into the inevitable aftermath of facing off with the Prez. Obviously, my grip on reality was slipping.
Grimm didn’t feel the same insane pull of the Chaos. He was immune to whatever magic-induced hormones had ignited in my body. He’d said he wasn’t beholden to his beast and he had just proved it.
The air rushed out of me in a sagging exhale as Bulletproof strode purposefully into the room. I snapped to attention, pulling the gaze of every single one of my people to the tatted-up, silver-haired biker.
His arms were loaded with weapons.
Not a peep was made.
Not a moan nor a bleated curse nor a sharp gasp of air escaped our lips.
Like a flock of sheep, our eyes were riveted to the deadly array. Danger itched across our skins and the hairs on our arms stood on end, yet we remained still as the grave and utterly silent. Waiting to see what new horror would play out in our never-ending nightmare.
Without pomp or fanfare, the VP silently laid out the arsenal. Guns and knives of all shapes and sizes glinted on the hardwood floor. Ominously.
I threw a desperate look around the room for escape. The only route being through the door we’d entered, the one Silver was propped up next to and flanked by two bulky-looking guards in the corridor.
How could I have been so stupid?
As my stomach dropped, my gaze skewered Silver’s. Though I could see he was pained by my reaction, his body remained loose and relaxed. His smile was reassuring as he tilted his head back to his superior, nudging me to trust him.
I glared at him as my hands balled into fists. Thunder boomed in my ears. Silver’s eyes twinkled with admiration until his gaze slid back to Bulletproof, but he angled his neck ever-so-slightly in my direction.
The crazy pull between us arced and snarled with potential. The urge to go to him, to beg him to carry me away to somewhere soft and dark and quiet, pounded into me. I shook off the compulsion as the VP backed off a couple of steps.
Silence reigned. Thick and charged with the promise of violence. And a tiny, even more terrifying, surge of hope.
“The name’s Bulletproof,” he grunted as though we couldn’t read his cut, plain as day. I snorted. “I’m VP. Which is just a fancy way of saying I’m second in charge. Anyone gives you trouble—and I mean anyone—you come to me. Day or night. I will personally make sure that no one touches you.” He threw a casual nod to the two wolves standing just outside the doorway. “Those two are my mates. Buzz and Whiskey. You’re safe with them. Wolves mate for life and we’ve already been blessed by the Goddess.”
No one moved. No one dared to breathe.
Then Winter made an appearance. I sucked in a hiss, already hating the shifting dynamics at play. I could just make out my friend’s willowy silhouette in the corner of my eye. Her fragile presence was like throwing gasoline at a flame. The older man’s gaze smoothly flowed over to take in the sight of the newcomer while Viola, Addy and I all reacted instinctively, tightening in preparation to defend our weakest member.
To the VP’s credit he didn’t react to her disheveled state, merely cocked his head in silent acknowledgement.
Ignoring his presence completely, Winter braced herself in the bathroom doorway as if the wooden frame was the only thing holding her upright. Her shrewd gaze was riveted on the weapons.
“Take your pick,” Bulletproof growled softly.
It was a gentle order—more of an offer, really. I felt strangely compelled to obey but Winter beat me to it.
Fast as a snake, she dashed forward to snatch the closest knife—a serrated-edge fixed blade with a leather handle—and scampered back to her sanctuary. The rest of my people vibrated with the need to follow suit. Instead, they waited as I folded my arms over my chest and matched Bulletproof’s no-nonsense tone.
“Explain.”
“Carbon—our Enforcer—will train you,” he rumbled. Similar to Grimm, I felt stronger in this wolf’s presence. Fortified. “Pick one. You’ll feel safer if you’re armed.”
“You’re giving us weapons?” Addy breathed, eyes wide as she coveted a particularly ruthless, serrated knife which came with a hip holster.
“Silver weapons,” Bulletproof nodded. “Lethal to a wolf.”
