Chapter 3

Heat Rising

The window didn’t open. Not even a crack.

Liana cursed under her breath as she yanked at the heavy frame for the third time. Her fingers ached, her arms trembling with the effort, but it didn’t budge. The damn thing might as well have been welded shut.

It was sealed tight, like everything else in this stone prison masquerading as a bedroom. No vents. No gaps. No breeze. Just thick, suffocating silence and walls that felt like they were closing in.

What kind of sick billionaire builds a bedroom with no exit?

Not a bedroom. A cage.

She stepped back, chest heaving—not from fear this time, but from the mounting frustration that coiled in her belly like a spring about to snap. Every second she spent here felt like her freedom was unraveling thread by thread, tugged loose by invisible hands.

“Think,” she muttered to herself, pacing the space like a restless animal. “You’ve slipped out of foster homes. Dodged cops. Stolen from store owners. Escaped worse than this.”

But the words rang hollow in the silence.

This wasn’t the same. Not even close.

Kael Damaris wasn’t some drunk foster father or sleazy gas station manager. He wasn’t a predator looking for a quick fix or a handsy creep with bad breath and beer-stained shirts.

He was something else.

A monster dressed in man’s skin. Power in every step. Control in every breath. And something about him—his scent, his voice, the way he looked at her—kept digging under her skin like a fever she couldn’t sweat out.

And God help her, a part of her didn’t want to.

“No,” she said sharply, like she could slap the thought away with her voice. “Don’t be stupid. He’s dangerous.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid thud of her heartbeat. This wasn’t attraction. It was fear. Confusion. Instinct. Stockholm Syndrome. Anything but that twisted, burning awareness that had been building since the second he’d stepped out of the shadows in the forest.

She needed to get out. Now.

But before she could try the window again, the heavy steel door creaked open with a hiss and a click.

Liana froze, every muscle tensing—not with hope, but with something darker. Her spine straightened. Her fingers curled into fists.

Kael stepped into the room like a storm entering a valley. Controlled, but only barely.

His shirt was half-unbuttoned now, sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing forearms streaked with sweat and dirt. There was blood on his knuckles—fresh, bright red, still wet.

And his eyes—those silver eyes—were glowing faintly, like molten steel held just beneath the surface.

He looked like sin, freshly fought.

Liana’s breath hitched. She backed up instinctively, her shoulder brushing the cold stone wall.

“More threats?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. It came out sharp, but she could hear the waver in it.

Kael didn’t answer. He just looked at her.

No—devoured her with his eyes.

They traveled slowly down her body, lingering at every curve, every inch of exposed skin. Her diner dress clung to her, sweat-damp and torn at the hem, dirt-stained from the forest floor. It might as well have been see-through with the way he looked at her.

His eyes darkened. His jaw flexed.

“You tried to open the window,” he said at last.

She lifted her chin. “Wow. Sherlock.”

He took a step forward.

She stepped back—until her calves hit the edge of the bed. Her balance faltered. She grabbed the bedpost to steady herself. “Don’t come closer.”

He paused. Tilted his head slightly, like a predator intrigued by its prey’s defiance.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he murmured, voice low and rough.

“Should I be?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Especially now.”

There was something off in his eyes—no, not off. Wild. Like something inside him was clawing to get out. Something ancient and feral.

Another step, and he was within arm’s reach.

This time, Liana didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

Her body betrayed her. Her skin buzzed like static. Her breathing turned shallow, fast. It wasn’t just fear. It was something else. A heavy, molten heat pooling in her gut. A tension that pulled her toward him like gravity.

Kael’s breath came faster now. His hands trembled slightly at his sides. His pupils were blown wide.

He was fighting something.

“I told you not to run,” he said, voice strained like he was speaking through clenched teeth. “Not to test me.”

She raised her chin defiantly. “I didn’t run.”

“No,” he rasped. “You tempted.”

He was standing right in front of her now. So close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could hear the low rumble of his breath.

One more inch, and they’d be touching.

“I can smell it on you,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Your fear. Your defiance. Your desire.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His hands slammed down on either side of her, caging her in against the bedpost. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the stone room. “Do you feel it? The pull?”

His voice was ragged. Desperate.

Liana stared up at him, heart pounding. “What is it?”

His silver eyes glowed brighter. Brighter than they had any right to. Brighter than human eyes should.

“The bond,” he said.

She blinked. “The what?”

“The bond,” he repeated, softer now. Reverent. Like it was a sacred word. “The tether between mates.”

Liana stiffened. “You think I’m your—”

“My mate,” he said. Final. Certain. Like it was a truth written in the stars and carved into his bones.

Her world tilted.

“No,” she breathed. “That’s not— That’s impossible. I don’t even know you.”

“You do,” he growled. “Your body does. Your soul does. That’s why you’re burning.”

She shook her head. “No. This is just adrenaline. Stress. You kidnapped me. I don’t want you—I hate you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then why aren’t you screaming?”

She opened her mouth—but no words came out.

Because she didn’t want to scream.

Not really.

Kael’s nostrils flared. His breathing was ragged now, jaw tight like he was barely holding himself back.

“I can’t touch you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Not yet. Not until you accept it. Until you know what you are.”

“What I am?” she echoed.

He leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Mine.”