Page 33 of Feral Heart
Careful not to disturb his sleeping pookie, Jamie slipped from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. His body ached in the most delicious ways, reminding him of everything they’d done just hours before. His knee ached dully, but the butterfly bandages Cesar had applied still held firm.
Jamie touched the mark on his shoulder, tracing the slightly raised skin with his fingertips. A soft smile spread across his face as he remembered the moment Cesar bound them together. He belonged to someone now. Not in a way that diminished him but in a way that made him feel stronger, safer. Like he finally had a place in the world.
Navigating through the unfamiliar house in the dark proved tricky. He bumped his hip against a side table, nearly knocking over what felt like a lamp. After a bit of fumbling along the wall, he found a light switch and flicked it on, bathing the hallway with soft golden light.
The kitchen was even more impressive in the quiet of night. Moonlight streamed through the windows above the sink, casting silver patterns across the granite countertops. Jamie opened the refrigerator, squinting against the sudden brightness. After he’d blinked away spots, shelves stocked with food greeted him.
It was way more than one person needed but perfect for a hungry wolf shifter. And now, perfect for him, too, though he had no idea what was in the container since they were labeled in neat Spanish handwriting. With a shrug, he pushed them aside to reach for the orange juice in the back, but a faint sound caught his attention.
Jamie froze, one hand still extended into the fridge.
The doorknob on the back door was moving, twisting slowly left then right, as if someone was testing it. The sound came again, sharper now, too quick to be the wind, too regular to be anything innocent. Jamie’s breath caught somewhere between in and out, like his oxygen had a stake in what came next.
Oh no. No, no, no!
Jamie’s heart darted up his throat like it had mistaken his body for an escape hatch.
Run. Get Cesar. Now!
Terror paralyzed him. Doce... once... diez...
The latch gave way.
Move! The command finally broke through his paralysis. Jamie slammed the fridge door shut and bolted toward the hallway, toward Cesar and safety. The back door swung open with barely a whisper. A dark figure rushed in, closing the distance between them in three long strides. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, a hand clamping firmly over his mouth, stifling his cry for help.
The smell hit Jamie like a physical blow—that same nauseating mix of menthol cigarettes and cheap booze that always clung to Rowan. Jamie kicked wildly, struggling against the iron grip. Rowan's hand pressed harder against his mouth, fingers digging into his cheeks painfully until breathing became difficult..
“Miss me, Jamie?” Rowan whispered, his breath hot against Jamie’s ear as he sniffed along his jawline, making a low groaning sound. His face loomed close in the dim kitchen light. His skin was marked with deep pockmarks and old scars, his eyes gleaming with a predatory excitement that made Jamie’s stomach turn.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention to the doorway. Grant stepped into the kitchen, eyes cold as he surveyed the scene. His brother’s mouth twisted into a familiar sneer, the same expression he’d worn countless times before dealing out pain.
“Well, well. Little brother’s playing house with the biker.” Those words weren’t meant to hurt—they were meant to humiliate. “How fucking cute.”
Jamie tried to wrench free, but Rowan’s arm didn’t budge. Struggling only brought him closer, breath hot and sour against Jamie’s cheek.
Grant crouched just low enough to catch Jamie’s gaze. “You think he can protect you?” he asked, voice smooth, almost amused as he pulled a hunting knife from his jacket pocket. The blade gleamed in the dim kitchen light. “Because I haven’t forgotten what he did to me in that store. Slice him open while you watch.”
Panic and rage collided behind Jamie’s ribs. Bare feet slid on the tile as he twisted hard, but Rowan held fast. “When we’re done with your boyfriend,” he whispered, his mouth too close to Jamie’s ear, “I’m gonna take you somewhere private. Make you scream in ways that aren’t so fun.”
Jamie thrashed harder, landing a solid kick against Grant’s shin. His brother cursed then lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Jamie’s borrowed T-shirt.
“What the fuck is this?” Grant yanked the collar aside. “Jesus, you’re letting him bite you like some animal?” He shook his head, a cruel smile forming. “Always knew you were a freak.”
This time, when Jamie kicked, he landed a blow between Grant’s legs. He wasn’t going to let anyone cheapen what he and Cesar shared. It was one thing to attack him, but Jamie wasn't letting Grant talk trash about his jellybean! And it felt good to finally strike back for once.
His brother cupped himself, face red, blowing out several breaths. In his ear, Jamie heard Rowan softly chuckling.
“You—” Grant gripped the edge of the counter, blowing out a few more breaths. “You little shit,” he gritted out, pointing the blade’s edge at Jamie. “I’m gonna make you pay dearly for that.”
Jamie slammed his elbow back into Rowan’s ribs then stomped hard on his foot. The momentary distraction was enough for him to wrench free, darting to the other side of the kitchen.
Just as he opened his mouth to scream for Cesar, a low, menacing growl filled the kitchen, so deep it seemed to vibrate the very air around them.
Grant’s eyes widened as he turned toward the hallway. “What the fuck was that?”
Standing in the doorway, naked except for a pair of sweats, was Cesar, muscles coiled tight. Tropical-blue eyes glowed amber in the dim light, lips pulled back to reveal elongated canines. The growl building in his throat wasn’t human—it was the sound of a predator preparing to kill.
Quickly, Jamie grabbed a knife from the butcher block, holding it like a prayer. Not because of Cesar, but just in case he needed it.
