Page 18 of Tangled in Red

Relief crossed the redhead’s face. “After that feast? I couldn’t eat another bite for days.”

Diablo smiled, bumping his shoulder gently against Brett’s much smaller one. “I know a place. Just drinks. Maybe some music.”

“Sounds nice,” Brett said, tilting his head back to look at the stars. His profile caught the glow from a nearby streetlight, illuminating the delicate slope of his nose, the scatter of freckles across his cheeks.

Diablo stood, extending his hand. “Let’s go.”

Brett took it, his fingers soft against Diablo’s palm. Their size difference became even more apparent as Diablo pulled him to his feet with minimal effort.

This earned him a genuine smile, small but present. Diablo counted it as a victory.

They returned to the motorcycle, Brett climbing on behind him with more confidence than earlier. His arms circled Diablo’s waist without hesitation, face pressing against his back.

The engine roared to life beneath them. Diablo guided them through the empty streets, taking the long route toward Sin & Steel. The night embraced them, hot air rushing past as they cruised down quiet residential roads before turning onto more populated streets.

Brett’s hold tightened around Diablo’s middle when they leaned into curves, his body intuitively following Diablo’s movements. Each press of his elegido’s chest against his back felt right, like pieces of a puzzle finally connecting.

The town spread around them in circles of light and shadow—storefronts closed for the night, restaurants with patrons lingering over late dinners, streetlights casting pools of amber at regular intervals.

Diablo drove slower than usual, savoring his time with his mate. But now that he knew it was Brett’s own uncle hurting him, Diablo was getting his mate out of that situation.

And his uncle would look into the eyes of the devil before Diablo put him to ground.

* * * *

At the intersection, waiting for the light to change, he felt more than heard Brett’s contented sigh as he rested his chin on Diablo’s shoulder.

“There’s something about the darkness that feels intoxicating,” Brett murmured right by his ear. “You can sense danger lurking, but when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”

What was Diablo supposed to do with that? The trust his mate placed in him was a gift Diablo would never take lightly. Here was someone who had faced abuse, who should have feared a guy Diablo’s size, yet chose to rest peacefully against his back.

The more time he spent with Brett, unraveling his layers, the more Diablo saw just how extraordinary his elegido truly was. Despite having his trust shattered by the one person who should’ve protected him, Brett still dared to trust.

“Let them creep from the shadows if they want. I’ll show them what a real monster looks like.” Diablo twisted the throttle, gliding through the green light as Brett’s soft laughter echoed in his ear.

“You’d chase away my boogeyman?” His grip around Diablo’s waist tightened. Not because of the speed. It was a gentle squeeze, like he trusted Diablo to keep him safe.

“I would obliterate them, cariño. Total annihilation.” He might be tamed around Brett, but Diablo wasn’t so far removed from himself that he wouldn’t show the “boogeyman” why they called him the devil.

He steered them toward Sin & Steel. The tavern sat just a few blocks ahead. Even from here, Diablo could see the silhouette of motorcycles lined up outside, pack members on the sidewalk or leaning casually against their hogs as they talked.

His family, who always had his back, even when Diablo acted insane. Which was a lot lately. He still owed Miguel an apology for the reckless move he’d pulled, baiting those hyenas like he had a death wish. At the time, he had.

But things had changed. Diablo cared now—cared fiercely, ever since his wolf had chosen. He may never be able to fully shift again, but he wasn’t shouldering the weight alone anymore. Just like Brett no longer had to bear his own burden solo.

Now, all that was left was to tell Brett the truth.

Diablo was a wolf shifter who couldn’t shift into his wolf.

A black SUV rolled by in the opposite lane, moving slower than the surrounding traffic. Something about its tinted windows raised Diablo’s hackles.

As they passed each other, the driver’s window slid down just a fraction. The streetlight caught a face Diablo would know anywhere. Crisscross scar over the left eyebrow, eyes as lifeless as a desert night. The hyena who had sedated him with the tranquilizer dart that had trapped his beasts inside him.

That’s right. Go nightie-night, big guy. Diablo would never forget the asshole’s taunt right before he’d slipped into unconsciousness.

His blood turned to ice then ignited with fury. The bastard had the audacity to give him a casual, two-fingered salute, smirking as he continued down the street.

Every instinct screamed for him to flip a U-turn, to follow the SUV, to tear that smug grin off the hyena’s skull. His grip on the handlebars was so fierce his knuckles turned bone-white.

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