CHAPTER 13

"You're a goddamn lunatic. You know that?"

Ethan’s voice was a jagged rasp, vibrating against the sensitive skin of Madison’s throat. The Lykan sat idling on the edge of the Devil’s Hairpin, the exhaust spitting heat into the freezing mountain air. Inside the cramped cabin, the air was a thick, cloying cocktail of ozone, burnt rubber, and the sharp, metallic tang of the blood still drying on Madison’s shoulder.

Madison didn't answer with words. She arched her back, her chest heaving under the shredded racing leather. She shoved her fingers into Ethan’s hair, yanking his head down until their foreheads collided.

"Drive the car or get on top of me, Ethan. Stop talking."

He didn't hesitate. He lunged.

He caught both of her wrists in one massive hand, pinning them against the carbon fiber roof. The leather creaked. Madison’s pulse hammered against his palm, a frantic, rhythmic thud. He wasn't gentle. He hiked her hips up, the back of the passenger seat groaning as he wedged himself between her thighs.

"You want to play with fire? Fine."

He ripped the front of her suit open. The cool air hit her skin for a fraction of a second before his heat reclaimed it. He didn't use his hands for the silk of her knickers; he used his teeth, tearing the fabric aside. His cock was a rigid, heavy weight, pulsing against her inner thigh. He guided the head to her entrance, the tip rolling through her slickness before he drove home with a sharp, violent thrust.

Madison’s head slammed back against the rest. A high, broken scream ripped from her throat, her internal muscles spasming around him like a vice. He was too large, a physical intrusion that seemed to reach up into her very lungs. He didn't give her a second to breathe. He pounced.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The Lykan rocked on its stiff suspension. Ethan’s weight was a crushing, welcome pressure, his chest slamming against hers with every brutal shove. Madison’s legs flew up, her heels digging into the leather of the dashboard for leverage as she pulled him deeper.

"Ethan! Ohh, fuck!"

The windows were already beginning to fog, the condensation blurring the carnage of the canyon outside. He released her wrists, his hands sliding down to her waist. He dug his fingers into her hips, his thumbs bruising the skin as he anchored her. He flipped her over in the cramped space, forcing her chest down against the seat.

He took her from behind, his hips hitting her glutes with a rhythmic, meat-on-meat slap. He grabbed a handful of her silver-blonde hair, pulling her head back until her spine was a bow of pure tension.

"Look at the fire, Madi," he hissed in her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Look at what you did."

Madison couldn't see the fire. She could only see the white light fracturing behind her eyelids. He was pounding into her pussy with a savage, animalistic rhythm, each thrust hitting her cervix until her vision blurred. She clawed at the expensive leather of the seats, her nails leaving long, jagged ruts in the hide.

"Harder," she whimpered, her voice a broken thread. "Ethan, please."

He accelerated. The friction peaked, a stinging, searing heat that radiated from her core to her fingertips. She felt him swell, his internal knot beginning to form as he let out a low, guttural roar. Madison’s body bucked in a final, messy release, her orgasm hitting so hard her limbs went numb. He followed a second later, his own cum a hot, thick flood that spilled out and coated their tangled thighs.

He didn't pull away immediately. He collapsed over her back, his literal weight pinning her into the seat. Madison lay there, her breath coming in shallow hitches, her skin stinging where the leather had rubbed her raw. The hangover of the sex was a heavy, grounding reality—the shaking of her knees, the lingering warmth, the salt of their combined sweat dripping onto the floor mats.

The silence of the cabin was heavy, broken only by the ticking of the cooling engine.

Ethan’s phone, tucked into the center console, suddenly flared to life. The blue light cut through the dark, reflecting off the fogged windshield.

Madison shifted, her eyes landing on the screen. It was an encrypted message. One line of text.

"Is the Queen safe? Report status immediately. - R.V."

The air in the car turned to ice. Madison’s blood, previously boiling, went stagnant.

R.V. Raphael Valerius. Her biological father. The man who had supposedly died in the purge. The man who had sent her into hiding with the Cains.

Madison shoved Ethan off her, her movements frantic as she grabbed the phone. She looked at the contact name. It wasn't 'Mate.' It wasn't 'Ethan.' It was 'Contract Alpha-01.'

She looked at Ethan, her pupils blown wide, silver bleeding back into the blue. He didn't look at her. He reached for his clothes, his jaw tight, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the steering wheel.

"You aren't my fated mate," Madison whispered, the words tasting like ash. "The pull... the scent... it was a fake. A biological tether. You’re a Harper Security asset."

Ethan didn't flinch. He didn't apologize. He stared straight ahead at the smoke rising from the canyon.

"I have a job to do, Madison. My feelings don't change the mission."

"Job?" Madison’s voice rose to a scream. She grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. "You’re my bodyguard? My father hired you to watch me? To... to do this?"

"I was hired to ensure the bloodline survived," Ethan said, his voice a cold, professional wall. "The bond was the only way to get close enough to protect you without the Council noticing."

Madison backed against the door, her hand on the latch. The man who had just shared her body, the man she thought was her soul’s anchor, was a paid employee. A phantom sentinel.

"Get out," she hissed.

"Madison, the Shadow-Claw are—"

"I said get out of my car, Ethan!"