Page 35 of Untamed

I close the feed, my pulse steady and calm despite the way my blood burns for her. For now, I’ll stay in the shadows, watching, waiting. She’ll come to me when she’s ready.

Because deep down, she knows what I know.

She’s mine already.

Get some sleep, little queen. I’ll be back

Dreammafiaqueen

Are you watching me?

Good night, beautiful

Her pacing slows as her phone lights up again on the camera feed. I watch as her brows furrow, her lips pressing into a tight line. She picks up the device hesitantly, and when she reads whatever message just came through, her whole body stiffens.

Her hands shake as she types back furiously, then stops. Her face twists into something I can’t quite place—fear, anger, maybe both.

I flip to the biometrics. Her heart rate spikes off the charts, and her breathing grows shallow. Whatever that message was, it hit her hard.

A second later, her phone buzzes again, and I catch the flicker of panic on her face before she slams it down on the table.

Who the fuck was that?

I access the feed again, zooming in to catch the name on the screen.

Shawn Steele

My stomach tightens, the way it always does when something doesn’t sit right. Who is this asshole? She looked rattled, and Ember doesn’t rattle easily. I’ve been watching her long enough to know that much.

I switch to my own phone, pulling up every scrap of information I can find on Shawn Steele. Not much turns up—a few social media accounts, a sparse LinkedIn page, and an address in the Midwest that doesn’t seem to fit with Ember’s life here. He’s marked as “stepbrother” in some public records, which makes my stomach churn.

I dig further, scanning the few photos I can find. There’s a smarmy grin, the kind that makes my fist itch to connect with his face. But what catches my attention is the absence of her. No pictures, no posts, no shared mentions.

I look harder, cross-referencing where I can, and I finally find a link—a mention in an old blog post she wrote years ago before she built her following.

"Family is supposed to protect you. When they don’t, it’s up to you to protect yourself."

The words hit like a bullet, sharp and damning.

What did he do?

It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Ember hates him. And whatever he just sent her has her spiraling.

I watch as she paces again, grabbing her phone only to put it back down, running her hands through her hair. She’s muttering to herself, the words too low for me to make out.

My chest tightens as I lean back against the rooftop wall, staring down at the quiet hum of her apartment. Shawn Steele. I don’t know what kind of hold he thinks he has on her, but if he’s the reason she’s so guarded, so defensive…

He’ll learn very quickly that she’s not alone anymore.

And if he’s stupid enough to try and hurt her again, I’ll make sure the only thing people remember about Shawn Steele is the name on his gravestone.

Chapter 6

EMBER

The soft glowof my laptop screen bathes the room in pale light as I curl up on my couch, knees pulled to my chest. I shouldn’t be doing this—not after everything that’s happened. Not after the man with the sharp gray eyes, the knowing smirk, and the audacity towatchme had the nerve to leave a gift.

But here I am.

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