Alexander prowled the dimly lit room like a caged beast, muscles tense and coiled with a dangerous energy that hummed beneath his skin. Every instinct screamed for action, for violence, for retribution. But he held it back—barely. Because right now, he needed to think. And for that, he needed to keep his rage on a fucking leash.
The intel Rhett had dropped in front of him wasn't just troubling; it was a fucking disaster waiting to happen. Multiple rogue packs were moving in unison, something that hadn't happened in years. Hell, it was unheard of. Rogues were like wild dogs—vicious and unpredictable, only united by their hunger for chaos. Yet here they were, forming a cohesive, strategic force.
And at the center of it all? Kade fucking Sullivan.
Alexander's eyes darkened as he glared at the map spread out before him. His fingers drummed against the table, tapping out a steady rhythm of barely contained fury. Every location marked in red represented a sighting, a skirmish, or some kind of disturbance. It was like watching a virus spread, slowly consuming everything in its path. He could see the pattern, the way they were closing in, tightening a net around the city—around her.
"Fuck," he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. This was bad. Worse than he'd anticipated.
What are you going to do?" Rhett's voice broke through the silence, low and edged with concern. His right-hand man stood by the door, watching Alexander with a mixture of wariness and something else—respect, maybe. Or was it fear?
Alexander didn't care. "We can't let this stand," he bit out, his gaze locked on a particular point on the map—a secluded section near the city's outskirts where Elena had been spotted earlier that week. She'd been meeting someone, someone who hadn't shown up in any of their surveillance before. And that meant one of two things: either he'd overlooked a potential threat, or Elena was involved in something deeper than he'd realized.
Neither option sat well with him.
"I want full surveillance on her," Alexander ordered sharply, his tone brooking no argument. "I don't care if it means doubling our resources. If she so much as sneezes, I want to know about it."
Rhett frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "You think she's working with them?"
No," Alexander snapped, the word harsh and final. The thought of Elena betraying him was laughable—no, impossible. But there was something she wasn't telling him, something she was keeping hidden. And until he figured out what the hell it was, he couldn't risk letting her out of his sight.
"It's Kade," he growled. "He's using her as bait. Trying to draw me out, make me reckless."
Rhett's eyes widened. "And you're just going to let him?"
A dangerous smile curled Alexander's lips. "Oh, no. I'm going to let him think he's winning." He straightened, folding his arms over his chest. "And then, when he finally makes his move, I'll tear his fucking throat out."
The room seemed to vibrate with the weight of his words, a dark promise that hung heavy in the air. For a moment, neither man spoke, the silence stretching taut and sharp.
Finally, Rhett nodded, his expression grim. "I'll get the men ready."
"Good," Alexander murmured. As Rhett turned to leave, he glanced back at the map one last time, eyes narrowing.
There was one more thing Kade hadn't accounted for: Alexander's patience. He might be a possessive, overbearing bastard, but he was also a strategist—a lethal one. He wouldn't rush blindly into Kade's trap, no matter how tempting it was to crush the bastard right here and now. No, he'd wait until Kade was right where he wanted him, and then—snap.
Alexander's lips twisted into a cruel smile. There was something almost satisfying about the thought of Kade's face when he realized just how thoroughly he'd been outplayed. But that satisfaction didn't dull the anger burning beneath his skin, the insatiable need to protect what was his.
Because no matter what games Kade was playing, he would never touch Elena. Not while Alexander drew breath.
"Focus," he growled, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He couldn't afford to get distracted. Not now. The rogues were gathering, growing stronger, and it was only a matter of time before they made their move. If Alexander didn't act fast, everything he'd built—everything he'd fought for—could come crashing down.
And he refused to let that happen.
But first, he needed more information. He needed to know exactly what Kade's endgame was. Because this wasn't just about the city, wasn't just about territory or control. No, Kade's obsession was personal. Alexander could feel it, a dark, twisted need that mirrored his own.
Which meant there was only one person who might have the answers he needed.
"Elena," he murmured softly, the sound of her name sending a jolt of heat through his veins. He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. She was the key to all of this—whether she knew it or not. And that made her dangerous.
It also made her vulnerable.
Alexander turned sharply, striding toward the door. He needed to see her, to confront her. He needed to know what the hell she was hiding from him, what secrets she was keeping.
Because if she was in danger—and fuck, she was—then he had to fix it. He had to keep her safe, even if that meant caging her, controlling her, doing whatever the fuck it took to make sure no one could use her against him.
Because she was his.
His to control.
And no one—no one—touched what belonged to him.
Later That Night
The scent of rain hung heavy in the air as Alexander approached Elena's apartment building. The streets were empty, shadows pooling in the narrow alleyways, cloaking everything in a shroud of darkness. But he could see everything—the slight flicker of movement in the corner of his vision, the distant hum of a car engine idling several blocks away. The city was alive, thrumming with energy.
And so was he.
His senses were on high alert, his skin prickling with anticipation. Every step felt deliberate, controlled. A predator stalking his prey. But this time, his prey wasn't some rogue looking to expand his territory or a rival pack leader challenging his authority.
No, this time, it was her.
His hand tightened around the railing as he stepped into the stairs, forcing himself to breathe, to focus. He couldn't storm in there like some jealous fucking brute, couldn't just pin her against the wall and demand she spill her secrets.
Even if that was exactly what he wanted to do.
Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, his mind racing with a dozen different scenarios, a hundred different questions. What if she was meeting someone? What if she was hiding something—someone? What if—
"Stop it," he growled to himself. He couldn't afford to think like that. Not now.
He reached her floor in record time, pausing outside her door. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the chipped wood, the faint sound of her heartbeat echoing through the thin walls. His pulse hammered in his ears, a primal urge rising up inside him.
Mine.
With a low curse, Alexander raised his hand and knocked, each rap of his knuckles sharp and demanding. He could hear her moving inside, the soft rustle of fabric, the light padding of her bare feet on the floorboards.
And then, the door opened.
Elena stood in the doorway, eyes wide and startled, her hair tumbling over her shoulders in wild, dark waves. She looked... soft. Vulnerable. So fucking beautiful it made his chest ache.
"Alexander," she breathed, her voice a whisper of confusion and something else—something he couldn't quite place. "What are you doing here?"
"Why didn't you call me?" he bit out, stepping forward, crowding her without touching. He could feel her warmth, smell the faint scent of lavender clinging to her skin. His hands itched to grab her, to pull her against him and hold her tight.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
"Why would I call?" she asked, frowning slightly. "What's wrong?"
What's wrong?" he repeated, incredulous. "Elena, there are fucking rogues closing in on the city, and you've been running around meeting strange men in the middle of the night without so much as a goddamn warning?"
Her mouth fell open, shock flashing across her face. "What—how do you even know about that? Have you been following me?"
"Of course, I've been following you!" he exploded, his voice a harsh snarl. "Do you think I'm just going to sit back and let you walk into a trap?"
Elena took a step back, eyes wide. "Alexander, I—"
"Who is he?" Alexander demanded, cutting her off. "Who's the bastard you've been meeting? And don't you dare lie to me."
She stared at him, stunned, her mouth working soundlessly. For a moment, he thought she might actually tell him the truth. But then her expression hardened, a stubborn glint appearing in her eyes.
"Fuck you, Alexander," she spat, shoving him hard in the chest. "You have no right to spy on me!"
Something inside him snapped. In an instant, he was on her, pinning her against the wall, his body caging hers. Her breath hitched, eyes flashing with defiance as she glared up at him.
"I have every right," he growled, his voice low and deadly. "You're mine, Elena. And if you think I'm going to let some piece of shit rogue take you from me, you're out of your goddamn mind."
Her eyes blazed with fury, her hands pushing uselessly against his chest. "I'm not yours, you possessive asshole!"
But her words were a lie.
Because she was his.
And he'd burn the entire fucking world to prove it.