The double doors of the War Room swung open with a heavy, arrogant thud. Marco and Silvio Valenti didn't enter a room; they invaded it. They brought with them the smell of cheap pomade, expensive tobacco, and the suffocating musk of men who believed that the world belonged to whoever held the loudest gun. Marco, the elder brother, led the way, his silk suit straining against a gut fed by decades of graft and heavy pasta.
Killian sat as still as a statue at the end of the mahogany table. The leather collar felt like a brand of hot iron against his throat. Every time he swallowed, the silver buckle pinched his skin, sending a needle-like sting through his nervous system. His wolf was paced in a tight, frantic circle behind his ribs, snarling at the indignity, begging for permission to lung.
"Don Romano," Marco boomed, his voice grating like sandpaper. He didn't wait for an invitation to sit. He dropped into a chair directly across from Lexa, his eyes raking over her with a patronizing, oily familiarity. "You're looking as radiant as ever. Italy hasn't been the same since you took the reins. Some say you're even colder than your father. I find that... intriguing."
Lexa didn't look up from the tablet in front of her. She tapped a glass screen, projecting a holographic map of the Mediterranean shipping lanes onto the center of the table. "I'm not interested in being intriguing, Marco. I'm interested in why your trucks were spotted idling near my distribution hub in Civitavecchia three nights ago."
Silvio, the younger and leaner brother, let out a soft whistle as he leaned back. His eyes wandered away from the map and settled on Killian. He squinted, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait a minute. What is this?"
He gestured toward Killian with a half-smoked cigar. "I heard you picked up a new bodyguard, Lexa, but I didn't think you'd gone and bought a Lycan. Is he one of those Northern strays?"
Killian's amber eyes snapped to Silvio's. The heat in his gaze was enough to make a normal man flinch, but Silvio only laughed, spotting the black leather around Killian's neck.
"Mother of God, he's wearing a collar!" Silvio barked, slapping the table. "You actually tamed one. I thought they were all wild animals and fairy tales. Does he bark on command, or is he just for show?"
Killian's hands, hidden beneath the table, curled into fists so tight his claws began to pierce his own palms. The copper scent of his own blood filled his nose, triggering a primal instinct to kill. He felt the silver in the collar vibrate against his pulse point, a warning. Stay down. Be a dog.
"He is a tool, Silvio," Lexa said, her voice remarkably flat. She didn't look at Killian, but he saw the slight tension in her shoulders. "And a very expensive one. If you touch him, he will likely take your hand off before I can stop him. Now, can we focus on the Civitavecchia incident, or are we here to discuss my security preferences?"
"Business, of course," Marco said, though he was still grinning at Killian. "But you have to understand, Lexa. My boys are nervous. A wolf in the city? It makes people think you're planning a coup. It makes them think the Romanos are getting desperate."
"Desperate?" Lexa leaned forward, the light from the holographic map casting sharp, blue shadows across her face. "I control eighty percent of the silver-tech market in Europe. I have three governments on my payroll and enough ammunition to turn Rome into a crater. I am the furthest thing from desperate. You, however, are losing money on the black market because your 'protection' is failing. You want my help to secure the docks? Then you pay my price."
"The price is too high," Marco snarled, his jovial mask slipping. He slammed a meaty hand onto the table, leaning into Lexa's personal space. "You want thirty percent of our haul? You're a little girl playing in a man's world. You should be grateful we're even sitting at this table instead of just taking what we want."
Killian's blood turned to liquid fire. The disrespect, the proximity, the threat to his mate even a rejected mate was more than his biology could handle. The Alpha within him, the one who had led thousands into battle, surged to the surface.
A low, guttural growl began in the depths of Killian's chest. It wasn't a human sound. It was a vibration of pure, primal dominance that made the water in the glasses on the table ripple in perfect concentric circles. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Marco froze. He looked down at the table, then slowly turned his head toward Killian.
Killian didn't move a muscle, but his eyes were no longer human. They were molten gold, burning with a terrifying, predatory intensity. His lip curled back just enough to reveal the tip of a
canine tooth that was far too long to be natural.
"Tell your dog to sit down," Marco rasped, his hand instinctively moving toward the holster inside his jacket.
"Killian, quiet," Lexa commanded.
But for the first time, the command didn't work. Killian's protective instinct had overwritten the collar's sting. He stood up slowly, his tall, broad frame casting a shadow that swallowed the Valenti brothers. The leather of the collar strained against his expanding neck muscles.
"He's not a dog," Killian's voice was a tectonic shift, a sound that made the very bones of the men in the room ache. "And if you lean over her again, Marco Valenti, I will show you exactly how 'tamed' I am. I'll peel the skin from your face before your guards even clear the doorway."
Silvio scrambled back, his chair toppling over. Marco looked at Lexa, his face pale and slick with sweat. "He's... he's a monster! You can't keep that thing in the city!"
Lexa stood up, her expression unreadable. She didn't look afraid. If anything, she looked annoyed. She reached out and placed a single, cool hand on Killian's forearm.
The touch was like a bucket of ice water on a wildfire. The Mate Bond, broken as it was, hummed through the contact. Killian's wolf whimpered, the rage receding just enough for him to remember where he was.
"Sit. Down. Now," Lexa whispered, her eyes boring into his.
Killian stared at her for a long second, the fire in his eyes slowly fading back to amber. He sank back into his chair, the collar clicking as he settled.
Lexa turned back to the Valenti brothers, who were already edging toward the door. "It seems my 'tool' is a bit temperamental today. Perhaps we should conclude this when you've found your courage. My price stands. Thirty percent, or I let the 'monster' off his leash next time you come to visit."
Marco didn't say a word. He grabbed his younger brother and practically ran for the elevator.
As the doors hissed shut behind them, the room fell into a suffocating silence. Killian waited for the explosion. He waited for her to scream, to send him back to the basement, or to trigger the silver gas.
Lexa didn't move. She stayed standing, her back to him, staring out at the Roman skyline. Her shoulders were trembling not with fear, he realized, but with a raw, jagged tension.
"That was a mistake," she said softly, her voice trembling. "You almost ruined everything."
"He was threatening you," Killian rasped, the collar still burning his skin. "I won't apologize for protecting what is mine."
Lexa turned around, and the look in her eyes broke what was left of his heart. "I'm not yours, Killian. I haven't been yours for a long, long time.