The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate
He tilted her head under the dim light, his gaze scanning her tongue, her cheeks, her gums.
There, hidden deep in the dark hollow beneath her tongue, rested a tiny, ink-black scorpion.
It was a rare creature, its body coated in concentrated wolfsbane toxin. One sting to an open wound or mucous membrane was a fast, agonizing death sentence, even for a rogue Alpha.
Zane reached in without hesitation, his thick fingers pinching the squirming insect before she could swallow it, and dragged it out into the light.
He stared at the tiny, deadly thing in his palm, then slowly turned his head to look at me.