Bound By The Biker's Pack Outlaw Alpha
And I'm done serving Alphas.
Are you? Dominic asked, his expression suddenly shifting into something grim and hollow. He walked to the edge of the bed and reached for his waistband, unbuttoning the top of his heavy denim trousers.
What are you doing? Valerie demanded, shrinking back.
Look, he commanded.
He gestured to the center of his chest, just above his heart. There, amidst the intricate black ink of his tattoos, was a jagged, weeping hole. It wasn't a normal wound. The edges were a sickly, necrotic purple, and faint, silver veins radiated outward from the center, pulsing with a dull, malevolent light.