“Take your hands off her.”

Marcus’s command cut through the roar of fire, sharp as a blade. His voice wasn’t loud, it didn't have to be.

Neither Luka nor Killian moved. Luka’s grip only tightened, his claws pressing into my waist. Killian’s arm locked across my chest, his lips curled back in a dangerous snarl.

“She’s not yours to command,” Luka spat, golden eyes burning.

Marcus tilted his head slightly, almost amused. “And you think she’s yours?” His gaze flicked ...