End him in her Presence

Great. It’s like I don’t even exist to her,” Luther muttered, voice low and rough as he watched her slip through the crowd without a backward glance. Something hot and restless twisted in his chest. Before he could think better of it, he strode after her, caught her wrist, and tugged her back toward him.

The instant his skin met hers, his pulse stumbled, then raced wild and uneven. Heat shot up his arm like a live wire. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even breathe differently. Just stared at him with those shadowed, unreadable eyes. He released her as though burned and stepped away.

She held his gaze another heartbeat, then turned and walked on as if he’d never touched her.

Fury surged through him, sharp and familiar, but beneath it something colder crept in..something that felt close to fear. Deep down, instinct whispered that she was trouble, the kind that could unravel him if he let her close. Yet the same instinct ached to pull her nearer, to cage her, to make sure no other man ever laid eyes on her again.

He wanted her marked as his. Owned. Untouchable by anyone else. Then a bitter smile tugged at his mouth. Women like her didn’t belong to men like him. She wasn’t worthy of an Alpha’s claim. The thought was armor, a way to soothe the sting of her indifference, the way she’d wounded his pride without even trying. He was already too aware of her scent, her walk, the way the mask hid her face but couldn’t hide the pull she had on him.

Luther ground his teeth. “Let’s finish Adre. And then I’m done with her.”

Micha’s lips quirked, hitting the bruise dead center. “Sure. It’s not like she’s dying to have you.”

Luther rounded on him, eyes flashing. “Watch your mouth. If you weren’t married to my sister, I’d remind you who you’re speaking to.” He shoved past and headed down the dim hallway toward the private rooms she’d promised Adre.

Micha fell into step beside him, voice careful. “You really want to do this in front of her, Alpha?”

“Exactly.” Luther’s laugh came out low and dark. “I want her to watch. I want her trembling when I put him down. I want her scared.”

Liam stirred inside him, tongue practically lolling. “You just want her to finally look at us.”

Luther didn’t answer. He pushed through the door, Liam’s heightened senses zeroing in on her jasmine-and-smoke scent in seconds. The room was small, lit low. Adre had her pinned against the wall, hands greedy on her hips.

She faced the door. Their eyes locked over Adre’s shoulder.

Luther drew his pistol in one smooth motion and leveled it, ..not at Adre, but at her. She didn’t move. Didn’t gasp. Just watched him with cool detachment.

He shifted the barrel and fired twice. Clean. Adre jerked, then slumped, arms still wrapped around her as he fell. Blood sprayed across her cheek, her throat, the front of her red dress. She closed her eyes for a single second, stepped back, and let the body hit the floor with a dull thud.

Luther closed the distance, gun still warm in his hand. He used the barrel to tip her chin up, forcing her gaze to his. “Look at me.”

She did. Calm. Unshaken. Then, with the barest flick of her wrist, she pushed the weapon aside and stepped around him toward the doorway where several of her men had appeared, silent and watchful.

“He’s so wasteful,” she murmured, voice soft enough that only he caught it. “Two bullets for one man.”

Luther’s jaw locked. He raised the gun again, finger tightening.

“Alpha,” Micha said sharply, stepping between them, his own weapon lowered but ready. “Not a human. Not here. You know the rules.”

She gave her men a small, almost imperceptible signal. They retreated without a word, closing the door behind them. Then she turned back to Luther.

He felt the shift the moment her full attention settled on him. A slow grin spread across his face. Finally. He shrugged out of his black coat as he advanced, eyes never leaving hers.

She didn’t retreat. Didn’t tense. Just watched him come with that same icy composure that made his blood burn hotter.

“You think this scares me?” she asked quietly when he was close enough to touch. “You’re only angry because you’re lost.”

His smile slipped a fraction. He exhaled. “No. I want you to understand what happens to anyone who gets in my way.”

The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken threats and something far more dangerous. Outside the door, footsteps shuffled—her people, his beta, everyone waiting for blood or surrender.

Luther lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles along her cheek, surprised by the gentleness in his own touch. “You have no idea what you’ve already done to me,” he whispered. “And that terrifies me.”

For the briefest second her eyes softened. Then she stepped back. “Then stop wasting time, Luther. You can’t own what you don’t understand.”

He nodded once, slow and deliberate, anger and longing twisting together until he couldn’t separate them. He shrugged his coat back on, turned, and started for the door.

Then he stopped. Pivoted back. Closed the distance again in two strides. Without asking, he draped the heavy wool over her shoulders, fingers lingering at the collar as he tugged her close.

“Even if I don’t want to touch you,” he murmured against her ear, “I want you wearing my scent.”

He shoved her back, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make her stumble and pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket. He tossed it at her feet.

“That’s what Adre would’ve paid for the night. Consider it yours. At least you earned it by catching my eye.”

He walked out without waiting for her reaction. Micha followed, shaking his head.

Inside the room she stood motionless, coat heavy on her shoulders, money scattered across blood-streaked floorboards. No anger. No tears. Just quiet.

Micha glanced back once, voice barely audible. “I wish Valentine were still here. She’d have torn strips off you for treating another woman like that.”

Luther kept walking, jaw tight, fury and grief and something new clawing at his insides. He’d come for a traitor and left with a ghost he couldn’t shake. And somewhere behind him, she remained..untouched, unmoved, and far more dangerous than any bullet he’d ever fired.