"Rolan... how did he end up on the streets?" I asked softly, stepping closer. "Askold, I mean."
Rolan scratched the back of his neck, shifting his gaze toward the window.
"That’s his story to tell, Jane," he replied, a shadow of lingering sorrow touching his voice. "If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. But he’s a good kid at heart. I feel for him. Truly."
He offered no further explanation, turning on his heel to retreat into the kitchen and leaving me alone with unanswered questions.
The rest of my shift passed in quiet routine. I swept the floors, stacked the chairs, and fed the remaining rabbits, pausing for a long moment before Peachfuzz’s empty pen. That rogue Alpha had taken him, and somehow, deep down, I knew the little creature would be safe. Even as a street-bound stray, the rabbit had sensed the warmth beneath Askold’s rough exterior—or perhaps a broken spirit matching his own.
Once I changed back into my clothes and stepped out into the night air, pulling my coat tight and slinging my bag over my shoulder, I spotted Magnus waiting by the curb.
He stood leaning back against the hood of his sleek black car, drawing heavily on a cigarette and venting long trails of grey smoke into the crisp evening air. He wore dark, fitted denim and a deep green bomber jacket left unzipped, revealing the snug black shirt underneath that outlined every hard plane of his chest.
Though the air carried a sharp chill that made me shiver, Magnus seemed completely unaffected by the cold. His skin always radiated intense, furnace-like heat—as if an inner flame burned inside his blood, never dimming.
Swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, I felt a nervous tremor ripple down my spine as I approached him. I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the pavement, afraid to look into his face. Waves of rolling, inexplicable hostility radiated off his towering form, though I had no idea what had provoked him.
The moment I stepped within his reach, he flicked his spent cigarette into the trash bin and pinned me with a glare that turned my blood to ice.
A dark, lethal turbulence swirled in his silver eyes, so intensely territorial that my body screamed at me to take a step back. I forced my feet to stay planted, clutching my shoulder strap and tightening my grip on the thin twine bound around the cake box until my knuckles turned stark white.
"Who the fuck was that piece of dirt?" he demanded, sparking a fresh cigarette and taking a long, deep drag. His voice dropped to a low, glacial growl that set every nerve ending in my skin on fire. "Who were you smiling at so sweetly?"
His question scorched me with a sudden flare of fury. I snapped my head up, forcing myself to lock eyes with him.
"What are you even talking about?" I breathed, clutching my shoulder strap and the thin string bound around the cake box so tightly my fingers throbbed. My voice trembled, but I stood my ground. "I was working, Magnus. I serve customers and I smile at them. It’s my job."
"Don’t give me that bullshit about your job." He took a step toward me. Slow. Lethal. Instinctively, I backed away until my spine slammed into the cold brick wall of the café. "I saw the way you looked at that bastard. The way you smiled at him. Who is he?"
The threat radiating off Magnus sent a razor-sharp chill sliding down my back, making my heart hammer wildly against my ribs.
"Askold?" I whispered, my voice coming out softer than I intended. "He just took the rabbit. Rolan asked him to because the boy’s parents demanded Peachfuzz be put down. The rabbit bit a child who was yanking his ears, and those people caused a massive scene. Rolan couldn’t risk the café, so—"
"He took the rabbit," Magnus cut me off, letting out a dark chuckle that raised goosebumps along my arms. "And bought you a cake. Judging by the box in your hands."
I looked down at the package in my grip. It was merely a gesture of kindness—nothing more. But Magnus stared at it as if it were an unexploded grenade.
"He ordered it and left a message with Rolan that it was for me, because I was upset about Peachfuzz, and..."
Magnus ripped the box from my hands so violently I gasped, my fingers reflexively reaching out to grab it back, but I was too slow. He whirled around and hurled the box into the nearest trash bin. It landed with a dull, heavy thud. The lid popped open, and the cake—baked with such care, my absolute favorite—was reduced to a crushed, ruined mess at the bottom of the can.
A violent shockwave of rage flared inside my chest.
"What is wrong with you?! It was just a cake! He didn’t do anything wrong! He felt sorry for me because I was worried about the rabbit! Have you lost your mind?!"
"No other male feeds my mate." Magnus spun back to face me, closing the distance so fast I tried to retreat, but the solid wall behind me blocked any escape. Something dark and utterly destructive blazed in his silver eyes. "Remember that, Lang. No one except me. No one. If you want sweets, you tell me and I will buy them for you. You don’t take shit from another male."
"I am not yours to order around!" I screamed, slamming my palms against his hard chest in a futile attempt to shove him back. He was an unyielding wall of muscle; every tendon under my hands turned to stone. "You don’t get to decide everything for me! You can’t control my every breath! He just gave me a cake—a simple cake because he saw I was upset!"
He seized my chin, his thick fingers tightening around my jaw with painful pressure. He tilted my face up, forcing my eyes onto his.
And then he brought his lips down on mine.
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