Page 20 of Fired at the Heart

A sting of grief tightens in my chest, and I hate myself for the weakness, hate him for knowing it’s there. “Shut up.”

He massages the Mark on the nape of my neck in soothing circles. “They’re not your mom.”

A choked breath escapes me, and a tear slips free. “I told you to shut up.”

“It’s okay, baby.” His head dips, his lips skimming my cheek. “The Alpha who owned this place is going to die a horrible death as Caleb digs out any information he has about the trafficking operation. If you want to help, say the word.”

His pheromones curl around me, seeping through my pores and into my bloodstream. With a quiet curse, I turn my face into his neck, filling my lungs with his scent. I hate how much this man knows about me, how much I still need him.

If this had been Cassian, he never would have noticed how hard this job hit me, but because it’s Raphael, because we lived and breathed for each other…

A rumble rises from his chest, and he pulls back far enough for his mouth to graze over mine.

The warmth of his lips barely registers before he steps back and brings the open candy bar to my lips. “Eat up. We still have a nightclub to infiltrate.”

The flavor of white chocolate raspberry coats my tongue as he walks ahead, but not too far. Just enough to give me room to collect myself.

7

Itug at the slinky dress fabric clinging to my body, trying to adjust the slit in the skirt that exposes far too much skin for my liking. The warehouse’s dim lighting does little to hide my discomfort as I check my reflection in the grimy window.

An androgynous figure stares back, ash-blond hair disheveled, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. The dress hugs my lean frame, transforming me into someone softer and more vulnerable. Everything an Omega should be.

My fingers brush the slender leather collar encircling my throat, and I grimace. The palm-sized metal plate pressing into my nape sets my nerves on edge with the harsh reminder of how much danger Omegas face without a mate.

That’s one good thing that Raphael’s permanent Mark spares me from. Despite his betrayal, he still protects me from every Alpha except himself.

I’m trying to figure out where I can stash a second gun when Raphael steps up behind me. His pheromones sweep around me like an invisible collar, sinking into my lungs, coaxing an instinctive response I refuse to give. My shoulders tense, my body drawn to the scent that once meant safety but now only stirs resentment inside me.

“Need some help?” His lips graze my ear, sending a traitorous shiver down my spine.

“I’ve got it handled.” I pivot to face him, keeping my expression neutral.

He has traded his all-black attire for a tailored suit that accentuates the powerful lines of his body. The fabric strains over his broad shoulders as he shifts closer, his presence invading my senses.

Damn him. He’s just as magnificent as ever.

Raphael chuckles, low and knowing as he leans in. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might misunderstand.”

I clench my teeth, annoyed at my weakness. “Just trying to decide the best place to stick my knife.”

Amusement glints in Raphael’s eyes as his fingers slide beneath the slit in my skirt, trailing over my bare thigh. His touch sends a slow, smoldering heat curling through my body, the roughened pads of his fingers beneath my silky dress making me shiver before I can stop myself.

I should pull back. I should shove him off.

Instead, I stay still, my breath hitching as he pauses, his thumb brushing in a lazy circle over the sensitive skin above my thigh strap, savoring the way I tremble beneath his hands.

Satisfaction rumbles through him at my reaction as he locates the knife sheathed close to my groin. “This knife?”

Pulse racing, I tap a different knife against his zipper and lift my chin in challenge. “No, this knife.”

For a moment, we stare each other down, the air crackling with tension.

Then Raphael chuckles and backs off, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Point taken.”

My skin tingles where he touched me as I return the knife to its hiding place. Damn him for still having this effect on me. I need to focus.

Deciding to go with inconvenience over risking being caught, I sweep the stupid skirt on the other side up and strap my second gun to my thigh. It’s not ideal, but better than going without a backup.

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