“What do you need us to do?” I ask, already knowing the answer won’t be pleasant.
“Be ready. This could go several ways, none of them particularly peaceful.” Xavier pauses. “And keep your prey close. If Kozlov decides to retaliate, he’ll target what matters to us.”
The call ends before I can respond, which is probably for the best given the rage surging through me at the implied threat to Keira.
“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
Ace remains eerily still. “We need contingencies.”
“Contingencies,” I echo, staring at the blank phone screen. “For Keira.”
The mere thought of her in danger twists my insides. It’s a feeling I’ve only ever experienced about Ace before—this overwhelming need to protect at all costs.
“Kozlov doesn’t fuck around,” I say, pacing the hallway. “If he thinks the Blackwoods are making a move on his territory, he’ll hit back where it hurts.”
Ace leans against the wall, his expression cold. “And everyone in Ravenwood knows we belong to the Blackwoods.”
“Which makes us targets.” I run a hand through my hair. “And now Keira?—”
“She won’t agree to stay locked down,” Ace interrupts, voicing exactly what I’m thinking. “We’ve barely known her a month, and even I can tell she’ll fight us on this.”
I nod, remembering our argument about her dance rehearsals. “Her studio, her independence—she won’t give those up.”
“And we can’t exactly explain that a Russian crime lord might kidnap her to get back at the Blackwoods for a territory war she knows nothing about.”
The bedroom door creaks open, and Keira stands there, her hair mussed from sleep, wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts. My chest tightens at the sight of her, so oblivious to the danger swirling around her.
“Everything okay?” she asks, voice husky.
Ace and I share a look. We’ve never lied to her, not since we told her what we do.
“Work complication,” Ace says finally. “Go back to bed, we’ll be there in a minute.”
She studies us both with perceptive eyes before nodding and disappearing back into the bedroom.
“We don’t have a choice,” I whisper once she’s gone. “We need to arrange protection. Someone to shadow her at rehearsals, someone watching the studio.”
“Without her knowing,” Ace adds. “She already feels trapped enough between us.”
“I’d rather have her angry than dead,” I say flatly.
“Agreed.” Ace pushes off the wall. “I’ll call Felix in the morning. He’s discreet enough to keep an eye on her without being spotted.”
We return to the bedroom, my mind still churning with the implications of Xavier’s call. Keira’s sitting up against the headboard, her eyes alert despite the early hour. The sight of her there, safe for now, sends a wave of possessiveness through me that almost drowns out my concern.
“Go back to sleep,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice gentle. “It’s not even five yet.”
Keira shifts beneath the sheets, and the movement draws my attention to how the thin fabric clings to her curves. “I can’t,” she says, her voice low and throaty. “I’m too horny.”
Beside me, Ace lets out a groan that mirrors the one building in my own chest. All thoughts of Russian mobsters and potential threats dissolve instantly, replaced by a much more immediate need.
“Makes three of us, it looks like,” I mutter, watching as Ace strips off his boxers without hesitation. I follow suit, both of us pulling on our achingly hard cocks before letting them slap back against our abs.
The sharp intake of Keira’s breath is all the reward I need. She pulls back the sheets in one fluid motion, revealing her naked body beneath the T-shirt she’d stolen from me. Then she spreads her legs wide, offering herself to us without a word.
“Fuck,” I breathe, the sight of her open and ready sending blood rushing south so fast I feel lightheaded.
The worry about keeping her safe transforms into a need to claim what’s mine, what’s ours, to mark her so thoroughly that anyone would know she belongs to us.