WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DISOBEY ME

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Before I can process that, before I can respond, he bends and scoops me up into his arms.

Bridal style. Like I weigh nothing.

One arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. My head falls against his chest automatically.

I can hear his heartbeat. Fast. Pounding with barely contained rage.

He turns and walks off the stage.

The crowd parts for him like the Red Sea. No one wants to be in his path. No one wants to risk drawing his attention after what they just witnessed.

His men fall into formation behind us as we walk toward the exit.

I look back over his shoulder.

The auction hall is still silent. Salvador's corpse is slumped in its seat, blood pooling beneath it, his destroyed heart on the floor. The other bidders sit frozen, champagne glasses forgotten, faces pale.

The chained girls on stage watch us leave with a mixture of envy and terror.

We pass through the double doors and into the hallway. The sounds of the auction hall fade behind us.

Dante doesn't slow down. Doesn't put me down. Just keeps walking with steady, purposeful strides.

His arms are rigid around me. Not gentle. Not comforting.

Controlled. Barely.

I can feel the tension radiating through his entire body. The fury he's keeping leashed.

"Dante, I..." I start, needing to explain what happened. How I got lost. How the guards grabbed me.

"Not now." His voice is ice. Sharp enough to cut.

I close my mouth immediately.

The walk through the mansion feels endless. Every step echoes too loudly. His men follow in silence, their faces carefully blank.

We exit into the cool night air. The fleet of black SUVs is waiting, engines running.

One of his men rushes ahead to open the back door of the lead vehicle.

Dante slides into the backseat, still holding me. But instead of keeping me on his lap, he deposits me on the seat beside him. Hard.

Not rough enough to hurt, but not gentle either.

The door slams shut. The locks click with finality.

The car starts moving immediately.

I sit as far from him as the seat allows, pressing myself against the opposite door. My hands are shaking. The red marks on my wrists throb where the chains bit into my skin.

Dante sits perfectly still beside me, staring straight ahead. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. His hands rest on his thighs, but they're fisted. White-knuckled.

The silence stretches. Heavy. Oppressive.

I can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't mean for that to happen. After the bathroom, I came out and you were gone, and the dining room was empty, and I got lost trying to find..."

"I don't care." His voice is flat. Cold.

I flinch.

"I don't care how it happened," he continues, still not looking at me. "I don't care that you got lost. I don't care about your excuses."

"But I..."

"What did I tell you?" He turns to face me finally, and I wish he hadn't.

His eyes are completely gold now. No brown left. Pure, molten amber that glows in the darkness of the car.

His wolf is right at the surface.

"What. Did. I. Tell. You?" Each word is punctuated. Precise.

I swallow hard. "To... to be on my best behavior."

"And were you?"

"I didn't do anything wrong! I just..."

"You left the dining area." His voice drops lower. Rougher. More wolf than man. "You wandered around a mansion you don't know, in a country you don't know, surrounded by people who would happily buy you and do unspeakable things to you."

"I was looking for the bathroom! And then I got lost!"

"You got yourself caught." He leans closer, and I press harder against the door. "You got yourself chained up and put on an auction block to be sold like the piece of meat those men thought you were."

The words are meant to hurt. They do.

"I tried to tell them," I say desperately. "I tried to tell the guards that I was with you, that you brought me, but they didn't believe me—"

"Why would they?" His laugh is harsh. "You think anyone believes the Lycan King would claim some nobody waitress? You think they'd believe I'd let myself be seen with collateral?"

The word hits like a slap.

Collateral. Again.

"You humiliated me," he continues, his voice getting rougher with each word. The gold in his eyes gets brighter. "Do you understand that? You made me look weak in front of everyone in that room. Made me look like I can't even keep track of my own property."

"I'm not property..."

"In their eyes, you are." He's fully facing me now, and the space between us feels too small. "In their eyes, you're nothing but a product I decided to keep for myself. And tonight, you proved them right by ending up on that stage with a number stamped on your shoulder."

Tears burn my eyes. "I didn't ask for any of this! You're the one who brought me here! You're the one who kidnapped me!"

"And you're the one who's going to be punished for tonight's disaster."

The promise in his voice makes my blood run cold.

"When we get home," he continues, and his voice is getting more guttural, more wolf-like with each sentence, "you're going to learn what happens when you disobey me. When you embarrass me. When you put yourself in danger."

"I didn't..."

"I had to kill a man tonight because of you." His hand shoots out, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him. "I had to rip out his heart in front of a room full of people because he dared to bid on what's mine."

His touch burns. His eyes are blazing.

"Do you understand what you've done?" The wolf is completely in his voice now, layered beneath the human words. "Do you understand the consequences?"

I try to shake my head, but his grip is too firm.

"I had plans for tonight," he says. "Business to conduct. Deals to make. Instead, I had to massacre my way through a mansion looking for you. Had to threaten my own guards. Had to interrupt an auction and murder one of my business associates."

"I'm sorry," I whisper again, tears streaming down my face now. "I'm sorry, I didn't know—"

"Sorry doesn't fix this." He releases my chin abruptly and sits back. "Sorry doesn't undo the fact that everyone in that room now knows you're my weakness. That I'll burn everything down for you."

He runs a hand through his hair, and I notice his fingers are slightly longer. Sharper. Claws beginning to emerge.

He's losing control of his shift.

"Dante..."

"Be quiet." It's not a request. It's a command that resonates with alpha power.

My mouth snaps shut involuntarily. My wolf whimpers inside me, responding to his dominance.

He takes a deep breath. Then another. Fighting for control.

The gold in his eyes doesn't dim.

"When we get home," he says finally, his voice still rough but more controlled, "you're going to your room. You're going to wait for me. And when I've calmed down enough not to let my wolf tear you apart..."

He pauses, and the promise in his next words makes me shiver.

"I'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to. Make sure you understand exactly what it means to be mine. Make sure you never, ever put yourself in a situation like this again."

"What are you going to do?" My voice is barely a whisper.

His smile is all wolf. All predator.

"Whatever I want, pequeña loba. You're mine to punish however I see fit."

His hand moves to rest on my thigh, possessive and threatening all at once.

"And trust me," he says, his voice dropping to a dark promise, "by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to forgive you. Begging me to let you prove you can behave. Begging me for things you don't even understand yet."

The car is silent except for the sound of the engine and my ragged breathing.

I look out the window, watching the lights of Medellín blur past, and I wonder what I've gotten myself into.

Wonder what's waiting for me when we get "home."

Wonder if I'll survive whatever punishment he has planned.

His hand tightens on my thigh, and his eyes, still blazing gold in the darkness, never leave my face.

The wolf is hungry.

And I'm his prey.