Page 90 of Point of Contention

I dismissed the server without accepting the drinks he’d sent, then began to lead Rylan to the booth. I stroked the line of her pulse with my thumb and said over the music as quietly as I could, “Remember who you belong to. He will never touch you again.”

She nodded, and, beneath my palm, her shoulders straightened.

She tilted her head back as we reached the table.

This was the woman I’d fallen in love with. Fearless and fucking sexy.

“Master Creed,” Gage said, inclining his head in mock salute. “You remember Emmie.” He squeezed the shoulder of the sub I’d spent time with and she dropped her head in a bow.

My teeth clenched. I’d always respected Gage, counted him as one of our best Dominants. But something had changed in him recently. I wasn’t sure what, or why, but this was a different man in front of me now. Someone drunk on control. Power hungry.

Perhaps a limit on how many submissives a man can have should be put in place. I’d discuss that with Mina as soon as we were on good terms again—

“I see you’ve returned,potsork,” Gage said to Rylan, cutting off my thoughts as I tensed. “Here to take me up on my offer?”

She scoffed. “To break me? Not fucking likely, creep.”

“Rylan,” I warned as I flexed my fingers on the back of her neck. She may dislike Magnusson, but down here, he was a Master and she was a sub. She needed to show respect, sycophancy—whether she liked it or not. Hell, whetherIliked it or not.

I did not.

“Sorry,” she said, the word dripping with sarcasm. Her shoulders shook on a laugh and I braced myself.

I’d brought her into the nightclub as a show of ownership. My mistake was in not preparing her ahead of time. She could run her mouth with me all damn day—outsideof The Rabbit Hole. But here, she was a sub. Expected to be obedient. Quiet.

Respectful of the hierarchy.

“Not. Fucking. Likely.Master,” she spat.

Gage’s jaw tensed and his nostrils flared. “Jävla munnen,” he muttered, his lips curling around the words.

I flicked my gaze to the side and caught Anvil’s attention. He leaned against the opening of the hallway that led to the observing rooms, but when I gave a subtle jerk of my head, he pushed off the wall. Swiveling my head to the area directly behind the booths lining the dance floor, I caught Rogue’s gaze as he strode toward us, already heading down the staircase from the bar area.

Gage’s eyes flicked around the room, catching the dungeon masters as they began to position themselves around us. Smirking, he lifted his chin as he looked at me. “Yourpetneeds to learn her place.”

“I’m no one’s fuckingpet,” Rylan sneered. She jerked forward like she might lunge for him, but my grip on her shoulder kept her in place beside me.

Eyes wide with anger, Gage roughly elbowed the blonde to his left—Emmie—and nearly pushed her off the bench. Once she was out of the way, he scooted out of the booth and rose to his full height to look down at us. “How dare you fucking speak to me like that,fitta,” he roared. “If you won’t control your slave, Ombudsman, maybe I should do it for you!”

Then he reached for Rylan—

And I saw red.

But Anvil and Rogue charged behind him, both of them grabbing an arm and hauling him backwards quicker than I could blink. Or get a swing in. Gage roared as they restrained him, fighting against their hold, but even as massive as Gage was, he was no match for the Rabbit Hole’s hired muscle.

Chapter Thirty-One

Rylan

My heart beat loudly in my ears as two burly men restrained Gage, yanking the huge man backwards practically kicking and screaming. As Cabot lunged forward, I reached for him in vain—he was out of my range in the span of a heartbeat—but I feared he might make good on his promise and break all the bones in Gage’s hand.

But then he stopped abruptly in front of Gage.

And time stood still.

When he didn’t draw his fist back or move to hit him, I dropped my hand.

I bit down on my bottom lip, eyes wide as the muscles across his shoulders and down his arms rippled and flexed as he fought and won against his momentary lack of restraint. He cracked his neck, tipping his head from one side to the other leisurely.

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