Page 139 of Untamed

“Strip him,” I order.

Dante doesn’t flinch. He nods once and rips the blood-soaked shirt down the middle. The runner winces as the crusted fabric peels from broken skin, revealing six ugly letters still oozing.

JORDYN.

I see red, but I don’t let it control me. No. Rage is only useful when it’scontrolled.

I step forward, the steel in my hand glinting under the warehouse lights. The runner’s eyes flick to the blade, then to me. He doesn’t beg. Doesn’t plead. He just braces.

Smart fucking boy.

“This isn’t mercy,” I murmur, lowering the edge to his chest. “This is a message.”

I press the tip into theJ, and begin.

Slow. Methodical. Every stroke of the blade as deliberate as the insult carved into him.

When I’m done, Jordyn’s name is crossed out, blood flooding the lines. And beneath it, fresh and ragged in deep crimson slashes, is a new name.

ARES.

I step back and stare at it. My name bleeding where hers once was. A shield. A threat...a vow.

Dante drapes a dark cloth over the rest of the runner’s torso, leaving the carved message exposed. “How do you want to send it?”

“Publicly,” I answer, voice low. “Put him in front of one of Nicolai’s clubs. Midnight drop. Hang him up if you have to.”

Dante nods.

“Leave this with him.” I toss a scrap of paper onto the floor. Handwritten. Simple.TRY AGAIN. I DARE YOU.

I turn away, shoulder on fire, but I don’t feel it anymore.

All I see is her face. Her voice when she whispered that she still wants me. Her touch. Her tears. And her name, etched into a man’s chest like a possession Nicolai thought he could steal.

He won’t make that mistake again.

Because now, the war is personal.

And I never lose what’s mine.

As soon as I step back into the manor, the silence feels different. It’s not cold or empty, juststill. My boots echo through the hallway, the blood already drying on them, and the scent of gasoline and sweat clings to me. I should shower. I should clean up the wound on my side that reopened on the drive back. There’s a lot I should do. But I don’t. I head straight to my room. Something draws me there, like gravity, instinct, or maybe just the need to see something that hasn't bled out in front of me tonight.

The door opens with a soft creak. And then I pause. She’s there. Jordyn. Fast asleep on my bed, curled on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek like a scene out of a dream. Resting on her chest, a perfect grey ball of fluff, is Ladro. His tiny pink pawstwitch with each purring breath, and her other hand rests on his back, fingers entwined in his fur.

A quiet hitch rises in my chest. She’s still wearing the purple dress from this morning, her hair slightly tousled, her face soft and relaxed, as if the world outside this room doesn’t exist. As if she’s safe here, even when she shouldn't be. Even after everything I told her and everything she knows.

Quietly, I move closer, careful not to make a sound. Inwardly, too proud to admit that I’m terrified if I breathe too loudly, she might vanish. That the quiet, impossible peace of this moment will slip between my fingers like smoke. Her chest rises gently beneath the kitten, her lips slightly parted, eyelashes fluttering at the edge of a dream. She stayed. Even though I told her to leave. She stayed, and that splinters something deep inside me.

Carefully, I sit on the edge of the bed, one arm braced on my thigh, the other reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her pretty face. My hand hovers for a moment, just above her cheek. But I don’t touch her. Because I still have the blood of the runner stained on my hands, and right now she looks untouched by everything I’ve done, and for just a few more seconds, I want that to stay true.

Ladro stirs before she does.

The little furball lifts his head, ears twitching like he senses me. He blinks sleepily, then does that thing kittens do, stands up on her chest, stretches his tiny legs to full extension, and gives a full-body shake that rattles from the tip of his tail to his whiskers.

It’s adorable. Infuriatingly so, but I smile despite my mood.

Jordyn shifts beneath him with a soft murmur, her brow creasing, hand flexing slightly in Ladro’s fur. She stirs, breath catching as consciousness pulls her to the surface. And then, her eyes blink open.

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