Chapter Seven-Mateo

The smell of fear hit me first.

It leaked through the cracks in the door, sharp and sour, mixing with Amelia’s scent until it made my wolf bristle. She was in there. I could hear her heartbeat — fast, uneven, fighting to steady itself.

I hit the door again, shoulder-first, feeling the old wood strain. Jason was to my left, eyes narrowed, ready to break the lock with a thought if I gave the word. Dimitri stood behind us, still as a statue, but every line of his body was coiled tight.

“They’re armed,” Jason murmured, his gaze flicking toward the inside. “One weapon. Old shotgun. Male’s holding it.”

“I’ll take it from him,” I growled.

“No,” Dimitri said, voice low but edged with command. “We go in, we control the pace. We’re here for her, not to spill unnecessary blood.”

My hands flexed at my sides. Unnecessary was the key word. I could think of a dozen reasons why breaking that man in half was very necessary. But I’d follow Dimitri’s lead — for now.

Inside, I heard the man’s voice, sharp and mocking. “Or what? You’ll burn me alive?”

My blood heated. She’d threatened him. That meant he’d pushed her too far.

Jason’s eyes met mine, a quick flash of silver. “She’s flaring. Magic’s unstable.”

Before Dimitri could issue another warning, I shoved forward. The third hit cracked the doorframe, and the fourth sent the door flying inward.

The scene froze for a moment — Amelia pressed against the far wall, power sparking faintly over her skin like static. The man with the shotgun halfway turned toward us. The woman at his side, eyes wide but calculating.

“Step away from her,” I said. My voice came out low, deep, threaded with enough alpha command to make most creatures obey without thinking.

The man didn’t move. “She’s mine.”

My vision went red for a heartbeat. “Say that again,” I dared him.

Dimitri’s hand clamped on my shoulder, grounding me before I lunged. He stepped forward, his presence filling the room like a dark tide. “She doesn’t belong to you,” he said, each word deliberate. “She never did.”

Jason slipped past us, casual in appearance but already shifting the energy in the room — the air felt heavier, slower, like every move the kidnappers made would take twice the effort.

The man’s grip on the shotgun tightened. “You think you can just walk in here and take her? You don’t even know—”

“She’s our mate,” I snapped, stepping into his space. I let the wolf show in my eyes, gold burning through the brown. “And you’ve been keeping her against her will. That’s all I need to know.”

Amelia’s gaze darted between us, her breathing quick and shallow. There was fear there, but also something else — recognition.

The woman tried to edge toward her, maybe to grab her, maybe to shield her. I moved faster. My hand shot out, catching her wrist before she got close. Her pulse jumped under my fingers.

“Touch her,” I said quietly, “and you won’t have a hand left.”

Dimitri’s voice cut through again, calm but carrying the weight of a command that left no room for argument. “We’re leaving. Now.”

The man barked a laugh. “Over my dead body.”

I bared my teeth. “That can be arranged.”

The shotgun came up — but it never fired. Jason’s power ripped it from his hands, sending it skidding across the floor. At the same time, Dimitri moved, placing himself between Amelia and the kidnappers like a wall of steel.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Come with us.”

She hesitated — one heartbeat, two — and then she stepped toward him.

That was all the opening we needed.