CHAPTER 4

My lips still burned from his mouth, but the morning alarm blew the pretense of safety to pieces.

As the cell tier opened, Vance and his mountain of a lieutenant—a brute with scarred knuckles named Miller—were waiting at the bottom of the iron stairs. Their grins were filthy, promise dripping off their teeth.

Before they could step into my path, Kael’s massive shadow cut between us.

“Move,” Kael growled flatly, not even slowing his stride. “He’s on my detail.”

Miller sneered, taking a provocative step forward. “Since when do you run a daycare, Reaper? You kissed his little bruised lip last night, now you’re taking him to work?”

Kael stopped dead. The air on the tier went arctic. Without a word, Kael reached out, grabbed Miller by the throat, and slammed his heavy frame against the steel railing so hard the whole tier rattled.

“I run this block,” Kael said, his voice terrifyingly quiet as Miller gagged, his face turning purple. “If I decide he walks beside me, you step out of the way. You got a problem with that, I’ll throw you over this railing.”

Vance backed up three steps, hands raised. Kael let go, and Miller hit the floor coughing. Kael didn't give them another look. He jerked his chin at me. “Move, Hart.”

We marched out to the supply maintenance shed behind the laundry—a dark, claustrophobic stone room filled with heavy iron pipes, stacked wooden crates, and zero guard oversight. The moment the heavy oak door creaked shut behind us, Kael threw the iron bolt into place, locking us inside.

Panic, hot and sharp, spiked in my throat. “Kael—what are you doing?”

He turned around slowly, dropping a heavy iron wrench onto a workbench with a deafening *clang*. His storm-gray eyes locked onto mine, completely stripped of the cold, detached mask he wore in front of the others.

“Miller and Vance are backed by the cartel on Sector 3,” Kael said, closing the distance between us in two heavy, deliberate strides. He crowded me back until the edge of the wooden workbench pressed hard against my lower spine. “Graves opened the door for them. They’re going to try to jump you during afternoon lockdown.”

My breath hitched. “Then why lock us in here?”

“Because if you’re going to survive this day, you need to understand who you belong to,” Kael growled.

He didn't give me time to process the words. His hands came up, wrapping possessively around my waist, lifting me effortlessly to sit on the edge of the high workbench. He stepped right between my parted knees, his broad, heavy body pinning me flush against the wood.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the thick fabric of his jumpsuit pressed hot and hard against mine. The friction sent a violent shockwave of raw heat pooling straight into my groin. My body betrayed me instantly, tightening, pulsing with an intense, humiliating ache that made my knees clutch his hips instinctively.

Kael noticed. A dark, dangerous smirk flexed the scar on his jaw.

“Look at you,” Kael murmured, his voice dropping an octave, turning thick and dark. He reached up, his rough fingers gripping my jaw tight, tilting my head back until I was staring up into the storm of his eyes. “Shaking like a leaf, terrified of the wolves outside... but your body melts the second I touch you.”

“Kael... please—” I choked out, my chest heaving against his, my hands grasping at the rough canvas over his shoulders. I wanted to tell him to stop, but my fingers dug into his back, pulling him closer instead.

“Please what?” Kael whispered against my neck. He leaned down, his lips trailing hot, uninhibited fire along my jawline down to the sensitive skin above my collarbone. He bit down softly, making me arch off the table with a quiet, breathy moan.

His hand slid down my chest, unzipping my orange jumpsuit with a slow, deliberate yank. The cool air of the shed hit my bare skin, quickly replaced by the scorching heat of his palm as he gripped my waist, his thumb digging deep into my hip bone, holding me completely at his mercy.

“They want to break you to take my turf,” Kael growled, his mouth hovering an inch from mine, his hot breath fanning across my wet lips. His lower body shifted, pressing his heavy hardness against mine through our clothes, proving he was just as affected, just as dangerously consumed by the heat between us. “Fuck them. You’re going to run Graves’ ledgers for me. You’re going to give me the leverage to put a knife in the cartel's throat.”

“And what do I get?” I rasped, my breath ragged, my mind spinning as his thumb stroked up my inner thigh, sending electric fire straight up my spine.

Kael leaned in, his lips crushing mine in a dark, demanding kiss that tasted of steel, dominance, and unyielding possession. His tongue breached my mouth, taking complete control, making my head spin until I was clinging to his broad shoulders for dear life, drowning in the absolute power of his touch.

When he pulled back, his eyes were black with dark lust.

“You get to walk out of this prison alive,” Kael breathed, his heavy hand sliding under my jumpsuit, gripping the bare skin of my thigh with a bruised squeeze. “And you get me.”

A heavy fist suddenly slammed against the thick wooden door of the shed from the outside.

“Vance! He’s in there with the new boy!” Miller’s voice yelled through the wood, followed by the sound of heavy iron bars scraping against the lock. “Break the latch!”

Kael didn't flinch. He didn't even rush. He zipped up my jumpsuit with one swift motion, his thumb brushing over my swollen, wet lips one last time, leaving me trembling and gasping for air on the workbench.

He grabbed the heavy iron wrench off the table, his face turning back to stone as he unlocked the bolt from the inside.

He looked back over his shoulder at me, his storm-gray eyes burning with a promise that made my heart hammer against my ribs.

“Stay behind me, Hart,” Kael ordered flatly, throwing the door wide open as three men rushed the entrance. “It’s time to clean up the yard.”