The hum of the espresso machine was the only sound left.
Even that seemed afraid to breathe too loud.
Stone and Wolfbane stared each other down across the small wooden table, the space between them a live wire ready to snap.
And me?
I was stuck dead center, every nerve stretched so tight it hurt.
Wolfbane draped an arm along the back of my chair, casual like a death sentence.
Stone's jaw flexed once, twice—tiny movements that promised blood.
"You don't belong here," Stone said finally, voice low enough to vibrate through the table.
Not loud. Not sharp. But it hit harder than a scream.
Wolfbane's smirk widened.
"Funny, I was about to say the same thing."
His fingers brushed the edge of my hair—light, almost lazy.
"But then again, maybe she likes a little variety."
My heart convulsed.
Stone moved.
Fast.
His hand slammed down on the table with a crack that made the sugar packets jump.
Half the café turned to look.
Wolfbane didn't flinch.
He just laughed.
"Touchy. Guess the rumors were true—you don't share well."
Stone leaned forward, voice a razor whisper.
"Touch her again, and I'll make sure nobody recognizes your face when I'm done."
Heat pooled low in my stomach, wrong and sharp and electric.
Because this wasn't about me—not really.
This was about power.
About who would burn the other to ashes first.
Wolfbane tilted his head, amber eyes glinting like molten honey.
"You keep talking like you own her. That's cute."
He leaned in, close enough that his breath curled against my cheek.
"But you forgot to ask what she wants."
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
Because now they were both looking at me.
Stone's gaze—ice and iron.
Wolfbane's—fire and sin.
And for one brutal second, I couldn't breathe.
"I—" My voice broke like glass.
"I don't—"
My phone buzzed.
Loud. Jarring.
Like a lifeline I didn't trust.
I fumbled it up, hands shaking.
One new message.
No name. No number.
Just a single line:
[You've got two minutes to leave, Velvet. Or he bleeds.]
My blood froze.
Stone saw it.
Of course he did.
His eyes flicked down, sharp as a knife, catching the glow of the screen.
"Who," he said—soft, deadly.
"Sent that."
I swallowed so hard it hurt.
"I—I don't know—"
Wolfbane snatched the phone before I could react, his grin curling like smoke.
"Well, well." He turned the screen so Stone could see.
"Looks like someone else wants to join the party."
Stone didn't blink.
Didn't move.
But the air around him changed—colder, harder.
The kind of stillness before a kill.
Wolfbane whistled low, tossing the phone back like it was nothing.
"Guess that means we're not the only predators sniffing around your little lamb."
He looked at me then, and the heat in his eyes could've burned the world down.
"Careful, princess. Too many wolves, and you'll get eaten alive."
My stomach twisted.
Because behind the teasing lilt, there was something else—sharp, real, and deadly.
Stone rose.
Slow. Controlled.
Like a glacier ripping itself free from the earth.
"Get up," he said. Not to Wolfbane. To me.
His hand closed around my wrist, firm but not cruel, heat searing through my skin.
"We're leaving."
Wolfbane stood too, chair scraping back like a gunshot.
"The hell you are."
And then they were nose to nose, both of them towering, both radiating violence so thick I could taste it.
Stone, solid and silent, like the earth itself would crack if he moved wrong.
Wolfbane, loose and lethal, a grin that didn't touch his eyes.
"Try me," Stone said, voice barely more than breath.
Wolfbane's smile sharpened.
"Oh, I plan to."
The café door slammed open.
A gust of cold night air knifed through the room.
And the figure in the hood—the one who'd been sitting silent in the corner—was gone.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, no words.
Just a photo.
Me.
Sitting here between them.
Taken from outside the window.
And underneath, a new line:
[One minute left, Velvet.]
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TO BE CONTINUED…
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