Page 200 of Untamed

And whoever it was, they just made the biggest mistake of their life.

Jordyn is still curled against me, trusting, unaware of the storm that just split open behind my eyes.

But I don’t move or speak.

Not yet. Because if I get out of this bed right now, I’ll be gone before she blinks. And she deserves more than that. She deserves peace, for one fucking night.

So I keep my arm around her, fingers trailing over her spine like I’m soothingher, when really I’m trying to stop myself from ripping out of my own skin.

Presto.Soon.

That word isn’t random. It’s a message. And not for her...forme.

Someone’s letting me know they got close. Close enough to scare her. To touch my world without permission. To use her voice, her number,heragainst me. And they will pay for it. Slowly and fucking painfully.

She shifts slightly, laying her cheek flat against my chest again, her breath warm across my skin. I force my muscles to relax, even as my mind goes cold and sharp with focus.

“Maybe it was nothing,” she murmurs, half-asleep now.

I press a kiss to the top of her head and keep my nose buried in her hair, breathing her in. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Fuck, lying to her tastes like rust in my mouth.

Because it’s not nothing. I know, it’s not. It’s a threat. A forewarning.

And tomorrow… I’m going to make mine.

Her breathing slows against my chest, and I know the exact moment sleep takes her, the subtle way her fingers go still where they rest against my stomach, the way her lips part slightly, soft breaths warming my skin.

I lie there a moment longer, holding her, watching the ceiling as silence folds around us like a shroud. Then I move. Slow and careful.

I shift out from beneath her inch by inch, easing her head onto the pillow without waking her. She murmurs something faint, then settles again, lost in dreams.

I stand beside the bed, bare, bruised, and fucking wired. I see her phone’s on the nightstand, screen down. I take it quietly.

The screen lights up in my hand. Passcode locked.

Of course.

I stare at it for a second, then slip it into my pocket anyway. I don’t need accesshere.I’ll get what I need from Dante, so I turn and walk out.

No shoes. No shirt. Just a pair of low-slung sweats and the kind of rage that moves through my blood like gasoline.

I close the villa door behind me without a sound and head across the courtyard, past the rows of sleeping cars, through the shadows that stretch long and silent under the moon.

Dante’s already waiting near the garage.

He sees me coming and flicks his cigarette to the ground. “You look like hell.”

“I need a trace on a number,” I say, holding up Jordyn’s phone.

His gaze sharpens instantly. “What happened?”

I stop in front of him, “She got a call. Unknown. He said one word before hanging up.”

“What word?”

“Presto.”

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