Page 83 of Knuckles & Knives
Words aren’t going to resolve this.
Action is.
I move toward the weapons cache again, and this time when Dom steps into my path, I don’t stop. I step right into his space, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his powerful frame, and look up into his dark eyes with absolute authority.
“Move. Now.”
“No.”
My hand shoots out, grabbing Dom by the throat, not hard enough to hurt but firmly enough to get his complete attention.
“I am not asking,” I say, my voice carrying the kind of deadly quiet that made Vincent Blackwood’s enemies surrender without a fight. “I am telling you. Move.”
Dom’s eyes widen slightly, not with fear but with something that looks suspiciously like arousal. The others have gone completely still, watching this power play unfold with fascination and growing heat.
“You think you can intimidate me?” Dom asks, but his voice is rougher than usual.
“I know I can.” I step closer, pressing my body against his, feeling the way his breath catches when I tighten my grip slightly. “The question is whether you’re going to submit to my authority willingly, or if I need to remind you exactly who you belong to.”
The silence that follows is electric with tension and barely contained desire. Dom’s powerful frame is taut beneath my touch, his dark eyes burning with something that has nothing to do with defiance and everything to do with the complicated power dynamics that fuel our relationship.
“All of you,” I continue, not releasing Dom but letting my gaze sweep over Kieran, Axel, and Marcus. “Seem to have forgotten something fundamental about our arrangement.”
“Which is?” Kieran asks, his voice carefully controlled.
“That you don’t get to make decisions for me. You advise, you support, you follow orders. But you don’t override my authority because you think you know better.”
I release Dom and step back, but the energy between us remains charged with dominance and submission. “Now, are you going to arm yourselves and prepare for battle, or do I need to find new partners who understand the meaning of loyalty?”
The threat is mostly empty—I could never replace these four men—but it has the desired effect. I see the moment they recognize that I’m not backing down, that I’m willing to fight them as fiercely as I’ll fight our enemies if they continue to try to sideline me.
“Raven—” Kieran starts.
“Strip.”
The command cuts through whatever he was about to say, leaving all four men staring at me in shock.
“I said strip. All of you. Now.”
“What are you—” Axel begins.
“I’m establishing exactly who’s in charge here,” I reply, my voice carrying absolute authority. “Because apparently some of you have forgotten that you belong to me, not the other way around.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with challenge and growing arousal. These four powerful men—each deadly in their own right, each accustomed to command—are being ordered to submit by the woman they’ve been trying to protect.
Dom moves first, his hands going to his shirt with mechanical precision. “You’re serious about this.”
“Dead serious.”
One by one, they comply, stripping away their clothes with the same coordination they bring to combat operations. Soon they’re standing before me naked and vulnerable, four dangerous men reduced to beautiful specimens of masculine submission.
“Better,” I say, letting my gaze travel over their bodies with proprietary satisfaction. “Now you remember what you are to me.”
“What’s that?” Marcus asks, his analytical mind clearly struggling with this sudden reversal of power dynamics.
“Mine,” I say simply. “My men, my partners, my lovers. Not my protectors, not my decision-makers. Mine to command, mine to lead into battle, mine to risk as I see fit.”
I move closer to Dom, running my hand down his muscled chest with possessive heat. “Do you understand?”
