CHAPTER 2

The morning alarm tore through the block like a gunshot, but I was already awake. I hadn't slept a second. All night, the cold concrete wall pressed against my back as I stared at the empty top bunk, my mind trapped in a terrifying loop.

I couldn't stop thinking about the way Graves had beaten me, or the way the man named Kael had stepped out of the shadows. I could still feel the phantom ghost of Kael’s storm-gray eyes dragging over my face, my throat, my body. In the dark, shivering under the thin sheet, an unwanted, dangerous heat had coiled low in my gut. I hated my body for it. I was terrified for my life, yet my mind kept racing back to his broad shoulders, his heavy hands, and the sheer power radiating off him.

When the heavy cell doors unlocked with a deafening screech, the guards herded us out like cattle.

“Move it, scum!” Officer Graves’ voice boomed from the guard platform above. He spotted me in the crowd, his eyes glinting with dirty promise. He tapped his heavy nightstick against his palm, reminding me of the beating he’d handed me yesterday and the price he expected me to pay.

I dropped my head, my ribs throbbing with every breath, and marched into the cold morning air of the exercise yard.

The yard smelled of damp earth, rust, and sweat. Razor wire coiled along the high concrete walls. I tried to blend into the shadows near the fence, but the moment the guards stepped back, three men cut across the gravel toward me.

Leading them was Vance—a wiry inmate with a shaved head and dark tattoos crawling up his throat. He held a sharpened rusted nail between his fingers.

“Look at the pretty new boy,” Vance grinned, his dirty teeth bared like a dog's. He stepped directly into my personal space, blocking my escape. “Thought the Reaper was gonna protect you, huh? He ain’t out here yet, sweetheart.”

Before I could back away, Vance grabbed my throat with one dirty hand, squeezing until my breath caught. His other hand dropped lower, rough and filthy, slamming hard against my groin through the thin orange jumpsuit.

I gasped, a shock of raw terror tearing through me.

“You got a soft little body,” Vance growled, leaning in until his foul breath hit my ear. He pinched hard, making me cry out in pain. “We’re gonna take you behind the laundry sheds today. Break you in slow until you’re begging us to stop.”

The two men behind him laughed, stepping closer to pin my arms. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. Panicked tears pricked my eyes. I raised my hands to fight back, ready to drive my nails into his eyes, but a heavy hand suddenly dropped onto Vance’s shoulder from behind.

An iron grip yanked Vance backward, throwing him onto the hard gravel.

Kael stood over him.

He looked massive in the morning sun. His heavy orange sleeves were rolled up, exposing thick, corded forearms covered in faint white scars. His jaw was set like granite, his gray eyes burning with lethal rage.

“Touch him again,” Kael said, his voice a low, terrifying growl that froze the entire yard, “and I’ll feed your fingers to the furnace.”

Vance scrambled backward on his hands and knees, staring up at Kael in pure terror. He didn't say a word. He just scrambled up and ran, his two buddies right behind him.

The yard went deathly quiet.

Kael turned around slowly. He didn't look at the crowd of men watching us. He stepped right up to me, closing the distance until his massive chest was inches from mine. The smell of cold air and cheap soap rolled off him.

His eyes dragged down my face, settling on my swollen lip from yesterday, then dropping to where Vance had grabbed me. The storm-gray in his eyes darkened into something thick, heavy, and undeniably possessive.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I... I had it,” I lied, my voice shaking so violently I could barely speak.

Kael let out a soft, dark breath. He reached out, his big, calloused hand gripping the back of my neck. His fingers were hot against my cold skin. He pulled me half an inch closer, forcing my head up until I was looking directly into his eyes.

The physical contact sent a lightning bolt straight down my spine. Heat flooded my cheeks, pooling heavy between my thighs.

“You didn’t have a damn thing, Hart,” Kael murmured, his thumb rubbing small, firm circles against the sensitive skin right behind my ear. The touch was dominant, overwhelming, and so intense my knees went soft. “You’re mine to watch out for. You stay attached to my hip, or those wolves will devour you alive.”

“And what do you want?” I breathed out, my chest heaving against his. I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. “What’s your price, Kael?”

A dark, knowing smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his hot breath sending shivers across my body.

“Everything,” he whispered, his heavy hand sliding down my back, resting firmly at the small of my spine, holding me pinned against him. “I want every piece of you. But first, you’re going to help me burn Graves to the ground.”

He let go of me as fast as he’d grabbed me, leaving my skin burning where his hands had been. He tossed a heavy work shovel at my feet.

“Pick it up,” Kael ordered flatly, turning his back as if the electric moment had never happened. “Work detail starts now.”

My hands trembled as I picked up the heavy iron shovel. My body was humming, terrified, confused, and dangerously aroused. I knew he was an inmate kingpin. I knew he was dangerous. But as I fell into step behind his broad shoulders, watching the flex of his back with every movement, I realized the terrifying truth.

I wasn't just trying to survive the prison anymore. I was falling under the spell of the most dangerous man inside it.