Felicity opened her mouth to protest, but the look in Victor’s red eyes stopped her. It wasn’t just protectiveness; there was sothing else there. A recognition, perhaps, of the danger she couldn’t yet understand.
"Who are they?" she asked instead.
Victor exchanged a glance with Voss. "The locals," he said finally. "And from what Exile just reported, they’re led by a female nad Maddie, who isn’t super happy about you being here."
"What? Why?" Felicity’s hand went to her belly. "What does that an?"
It was Damien who answered, his voice quiet but carrying an edge that made her shiver. "It ans she doesn’t like sharing attention or resources."
The babies kicked, as if sensing her sudden fear. Felicity pressed her hand against the movent, taking a deep breath. "So what do we do?"
"We talk to them," Victor said, his tone making it clear this was non-negotiable. "From a position of strength. You stay inside with Lucan and Ivan and Dimitri."
"And what if they don’t want to talk?" she asked.
Victor’s smile was all predator. "Then we show them exactly why they should."
Before Felicity could respond, Dimitri materialised in front of her with such speed that the air stirred her hair. He positioned himself between her and the door, his broad shoulders blocking her view entirely. Her heart hamred against her ribs, both startled and strangely comforted by his silent, protective presence.
"Soone’s eager to guard their charge," Ivan remarked, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he watched the interaction.
Lucan’s lips curved into a smirk, though his tail twitched with barely concealed irritation. "At least we know him," he muttered, shooting Dimitri a asuring look. "Better than so random male."
Without a word, Dimitri turned and effortlessly scooped Felicity into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her toward the staircase.
"Hey! Where are you taking ?" she protested, though her voice lacked conviction. The warmth of his body against hers felt oddly reassuring.
Lucan raised an eyebrow, his feline eyes tracking their movent. "Seems our silent friend has plans for our pregnant mate."
Ivan nodded once, already moving toward the back of the house. "I’ll secure the rear entrance."
"And I’ll take the front," Lucan added, his smirk fading into a more serious expression as he positioned himself by the main door.
As Dimitri carried Felicity up the stairs, she couldn’t help but notice the tension in his jaw. His eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, never settling for more than a mont. He was like a sentinel, ready to strike at any threat.
anwhile, outside the house, hidden in the shadows of the overgrown garden, Exile’s claws dug into the bark of a tree. His hearing had picked up every word spoken inside. The sound of another male touching his mate sent rage coursing through his veins like wildfire.
’Mine, she is MINE.’
The possessive thought looped in his mind, growing stronger with each repetition. No one should lay hands on Felicity without his permission. No one should even look at her without his approval. His chest constricted painfully at the thought of these other males, these troublemakers, touching what belonged to him.
With a hiss, he slipped away from the house, moving through the ruins of the city with predatory grace. His mission was clear: work out what the group at the front gate wanted other than HIS mate. But each ti he heard whispers about "the pregnant female" or "the new woman in the territory," his vision clouded with red.
A group of three males huddled around an empty market stall, their voices carried on the wind.
"Did you see her? The blonde one? I heard she’s-"
They never finished their sentence. Exile moved with lethal precision, his nails silencing the speaker before the others could react. The second male fell with a gurgling cry, while the third managed a short scream before Exile’s hand clamped over his mouth.
"No one speaks of her," Exile hissed into his ear. "No one looks at her, no one thinks of her."
The male’s eyes widened in terror before Exile ended his life with a quick, brutal motion. Blood stained the cracked concrete as Exile wiped his blade clean, his breathing ragged with possessive fury.
’Mine. Only mine.’
He continued his search, leaving a trail of bodies behind him, each one silenced for the cri of acknowledging what belonged to him. The night air grew thick with the scent of blood, but Exile barely noticed. His thoughts remained fixed on one thing only, Felicity. His mate. His to protect, to possess, to keep.
No one takes what’s mine, he thought as he moved silently through the darkness, hunting for more voices that dared speak her na. No one.
A mory flashed—Felicity’s laughter, bright and sharp as glass, cutting through the underbrush where they’d first t. The scent of her hair, wild with honey and sunlight, seared into his brain like a brand. He’d killed for her then, too, and he would do it a thousand tis more.
He rose, ears straining for any sound that didn’t belong. Down the block, sowhere behind a wall of ivy-clogged chain-link, another cluster of males whispered. Exile moved before the thought even completed itself. His body was noise and speed, every muscle harmonised for killing. He passed a shattered shopfront, glass crunching under his claws, the leftover scent of food and fear hanging in the air.
The whispers grew louder, overlapping, as if the males could sense their own doom. "She’s new, right? The female..." A voice, higher-pitched than the last group, barely more than a boy. "I saw her in the window, she looked b-"
The rest was lost in the at-sound of Exile’s impact. He tore the first boy’s throat with a single swipe, blood spraying the others in a warm, arterial mist. The second male tried to run, but Exile had him by the leg, yanking him off his feet and onto the broken tile. The boy howled, a thin, animal sound, as Exile pressed a clawed paw against his mouth and whispered, "Don’t think of her. Don’t speak of her. Don’t breathe her na."
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