I glance at her. She’s pale, breathing unevenly, eyes wide but focused.
Alive.
Rage doesn’t recede.
It condenses.
“You will leave,” I tell him quietly.
“You don’t understand what she is,” he snarls. “The men backing me will not allow?—”
“I don’t care who backs you.” My voice is steady now. Controlled.
Which isfarmore dangerous.
“You come near her again,” I continue, lowering him just enough that his feet brush the floor, “and there will be no politics left to hide behind.”
His gaze flicks to the others.
Four alphas.
Unified.
Not playing.
Not negotiating.
For the first time, doubt flickers in his eyes.
“She is activated,” he says, trying for composure and failing. “You’ve already destabilised her system. She’s volatile.”
The word detonates something primal in me. I feel it – the edge of heat igniting under the terror.
He’s right about one thing. Sheisvolatile. Becausehefrightened her. Becausehethreatened her autonomy. Because the bond just snapped tight under stress.
I release him suddenly.
He stumbles, catching himself against the wall.
Kai steps forward immediately, fury bright and barely contained. Finn blocks the doorway. Koa doesn’t move from Lani’s side.
“You will leave,” I repeat.
He straightens slowly, adjusting his coat like this is a boardroom and not a kitchen with a cracked wall.
“This isn’t finished,” he says.
“It is,” I reply.
He steps towards the front door, but pauses on the threshold. He looks at Lani one last time. Not with love. With calculation.
Then he moves faster than I expect.
His hand disappears inside his coat.
The shift in the air is instant.
Gun.