Page 124 of The Vampire's Storm

I don’t know.

“Logan’s right. He might. We discussed this,” Ben stated. “The Russians are cunning. He might have let her go to watch her. If he doesn’t see her leave the restrooms, then—”

Logan faced them all. “He will go in there and slit her throat himself.”

“With no remorse.” Ben nodded.

All the assassins from The Institute knew how bloodthirsty and forgiving the mafia were.

“Fuck,” Brayden said, then ran a hand over his head. “She needs to stay in there. I’m not saying her life is less important than Willow’s—”

“Yes, you are,” Craig growled. “And you’re right. If she dies, so do you.”

Fuck.

Logan paced the room. Someone needed to protect her. He had to get over there.

“One hour,” Marcus said, in an attempt to calm them. “Fifty minutes, to be exact.”

The mob boss only needed three to kill her. Every minute, if he was watching her, would raise his suspicion.

Logan could not stay here and do nothing.

She was...maybe...his mate.

Even if she wasn’t, Brooklyn deserved his protection.

Fuck that, she had his protection. The damn end.

“We cannot just leave her over there like a sitting duck.” Logan growled as images of her pretty face filled his mind. Those cheeks of hers blushing, her vulnerable gaze pleading with him to accept her.

He hadn’t.

He’d hated her just because of who she was.

A human.

The truth was, he didn’t hate her one little bit. He was in love with the sexy little scientist. He wanted her here, in his arms, where he would subsequently lock her in a closet so she couldn’t get out.

Then, after they had destroyed these motherfuckers, he would let her out, listen to her yell at him, then kiss the life out of her.

And then make love to her the way he should have last night. Slowly, passionately, carefully pleasuring her.

“Sit your ass down,” Craig told him.

Motherfucker.

Logan glared at each vampire in the room. Fury and bewilderment on his face. They were all stuck inside this fucking hotel until the sun went down.

Craig pointed to the seat, and Logan slowly, reluctantly, walked over and sat. There was no arguing with the commander.

Across from him, Ben caught his eye. What’s going on?

Fuck, Ben. I think...

She’s your mate.

Logan blinked, then glanced away. Accepting he was falling in love with Brooklyn was one thing, contemplating she might be his mate was another. But sharing it with someone else, having this conversation was a whole other level of acceptance.

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