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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Bianca

Touch

I was blinded by the stars still swirling behind my eyes, and I grasped at the fingers twisting in my hair.

A roar echoed through the room, and my world spun by in a flurry of color and light as the force threw me from it, and I crash-landed against a wall.

I fell to the floor, and the ground hummed with the sounds of moving machinery.

“Get away from her!” Titus raged, but I still couldn’t see him. It was impossible to make out anything in my dazed state other than wavering shadows and purposeful steps moving in my direction.

“Where the hell is Jameson?” The dragon snarled. “Even he isn’t this stupid.”

Shiny brown shoes stopped in front of my face and grey-covered knees touched the floor. A white shirt flashed in my vision, but I was still too disoriented to fully take in the stranger’s blurry features.

“Is she your mate?” The newcomer didn’t answer Titus’s question, and, at the dragon’s silence to his query, he swung his heavy fist down, catching me against my ear and causing my head to bounce from the floor in a tooth-rattling hit.

“You son of a bitch!” Titus—whom I’d never heard lose his control—was beginning to sound quite deranged. My vision had entirely blacked out at this point as dizziness made it hard to focus as my stomach recoiled dangerously.

A rough hand closed over my arm as I was dragged up until my back was pressed against the intruder’s unforgiving form. My body felt like lead and my toes barely brushed across the floor—the courage and strength I’d mustered up to come here was finally gone.

“I’m going to ask one more time,” the man continued. “Otherwise, it’ll go worse for her.” One of his arms was wrapped around my stomach in a tight hold, and the light pressure of cold, thin metal pressed across my neck.

A knife.

My pulse soared with panic as my fingers dug into the unrelenting man’s arm. I’d almost died the last time this happened. I would never forget the feeling of helplessness, of being tied down and left at the mercy of a power-hungry sociopath who split open my neck and tried to eat my heart.

“Is she your mate?” the man asked again. “I’ve never seen you this emotional.”

“Yes.” The venom was heavy in Titus’s reply. “And if you hurt her again, it won’t end well for you. Put her down if you don’t want to die.”

“You already plan on killing me anyway,” the man replied. Thankfully the pressure against my neck vanished, but when his hand returned, he’d pressed his forearm across my chest, wrapping his hand under my chin. Fingers dug into my cheek, turning my face so he could see me. My vision was finally clearing, and stern, freckled features came into focus. He had dark orange hair and a face that seemed almost familiar.

“My nephew said you’re married to Bryce Dubois,” he frowned, addressing me. “He seemed certain you weren’t significant. That’s why Jameson wasn’t concerned. But with you being Ducharme’s mate… That changes things. How are you worthy? And why would Dubois be okay with this?”

“It’s not like he can stop it,” Titus snarled.

I wanted to look at him, to make sure he was okay—especially after everything that had just happened with Belial—but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the man holding me.

Or maybe I just zoned out while looking at the mirror. Maybe everything before this was only a dream?

“No,” the stranger continued, lips thinning and eyes flashing as he spoke to Titus. “It doesn’t make sense. You’d only be mated with someone with officer-level strength, unlikely enough as it might be, or someone stronger…” His words trailed off as he released my chin and, before I could even suck in a breath, grabbed the neck of my shirt and pulled, popping the buttons until the last of the cloth ripped away.

Titus shouted and I clawed at his arms, but my feeble attempts at a protest didn’t even phase my attacker. My head spun as he hooked his finger under the front clasp of my bra and pulled up, fully exposing my breasts.

“Mu…” His awestruck whisper sounded louder than Titus’s enraged bellow and I twisted against his arm, trying to escape. But he was unmovable as he traced his finger over the mark. His touch was almost gentle, despite his unforgiving hold, but the feel of his skin over mine made the hair on the back of my neck stand and my throat closed tighter.

This was not like the others touching me. While I’d been nervous with them, their hands were warm, safe, andfamiliar.

But this… It was cold and scary, making my stomach knot and my head spin.

“Norman lied to me,” the man frowned. “He has to know.”

“I’m going to tear out your eyes and rip off your hands!” Titus’s teeth had sharped, and his eyes glowed a bright crimson. He continued to pull at his chains but remained imprisoned. “You’re dead!”

“So, your mate isMu,” the man began breathlessly, ignoring Titus’s threats.