Page 25 of Little Bunny

Thick clouds moved in, blocking out the sun, but not the heat. Even in the shade, sweat slid down Santiago’s back, soaking into his shirt.

Diablo gripped the handle and pulled. The door groaned, a slow, high-pitched creak that seemed too loud in the silence, then he disappeared inside.

Santiago glanced around at the desolate area. Despite the wide-open space around the building, he didn’t like this, not one bit, but he followed behind Diablo.

If something went down, this time Diablo would have someone watching his back. Santiago was instantly hit with the smell of hot metal, dust, and stagnant water, making his nose twitch.

Inside, the air was sweltering. It was like stepping into an oven set on broil. Sweat slid down Santiago’s scalp, making him miss the central air at the tavern.

To his right, a single metal folding chair sat beside a card table, a small rotating fan on top, blowing around the oppressive heat. The fan was on… in an abandoned factory. Not good.

Diablo stepped deeper into the open-area room then stopped, tilted his head back, and gazed at something above him.

Santiago followed his line of sight.

A hook bolted into a metal overhead beam. Diablo stood beneath it, shoulders tight, eyes unfocused, like he was remembering something.

A bead of sweat rolled down Diablo’s temple, but he didn’t wipe it away. Somewhere in the building water dripped in a precise rhythm, seven seconds apart.

Diablo tilted his head, as if he was listening to it, timing the drips.

“You were here,” Santiago murmured. “This is where you were held.” He jutted his chin toward the beam. “Your chains. You were hung by that hook.”

Diablo glanced around, causing Santiago to do the same, but he couldn’t see anything that would indicate Diablo had even been there.

A large fly landed on Santiago’s hand, biting him. He cursed and knocked it away, only for three more to buzz around him.

Diablo walked over to the card table and examined it then lowered to one knee. The scent of hyena was strong, which meant they’d been here recently. Santiago scanned the room, his skin prickling as the fan blew hot air toward him.

“Diablo.” Santiago had barely moved his lips, his voice low enough that only Diablo heard him.

“I feel it too,” he replied in the same, low-pitched whisper. “We’re not alone.”

Chapter Seven

Matias entered the kitchen where Elijah stood at the counter making a sandwich. He leaned his arm against the wall, watching the human.

“Get your eyeballs off my ass,” Elijah said without looking his way. “Outright ogling wasn’t part of the deal.”

“An addendum I added.” Matias moved closer to the male, his gaze sweeping over Elijah’s slim body. “I should be furious at you for disobeying me, conejito.”

Popping a chip into his mouth, Elijah turned and stared up at him, meeting his gaze. “Go ahead, let me have it,” he said after swallowing. “Yell at me for being reckless. For standing in front of a wounded, wild-eyed goliath like I was some pipsqueak gladiator in a Roman arena.” He picked up another chip.” Don’t forget to go off on a tirade in Spanish so I have to yell about not understanding your insults.”

Matias softly grinned. “Think you know me that well?”

Elijah had been on a mission to help Diablo, having no idea he was securing his place in Matias’s pack. The reckless fool had acted like he’d been patching up a puppy instead of a wounded apex predator.

But Matias had watched Diablo’s movements the entire time, ready to pull Elijah out if things went sideways.

“I can read you like a pop-up book.” Elijah smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a slight growl, Matias leaned in, their faces so close he could feel tiny puffs of air on his lips. Elijah’s breaths grew shallow, but he never broke eye contact. The male was scared, knowing Matias wasn’t human, but his spine was made of steel.

And that turned Matias on. Not him standing fearless but brave enough to stand his ground in the face of his fear. “What exactly pops up, hermoso?”

Elijah leaned a fraction of an inch closer. “Your ego, bullo.”

Matias chuckled, seriously doubting Elijah was trying to call him a bull. But it touched him the human was trying to learn his language.

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