Jefferson's POV
Blood roared in my ears.
Two bodies lay crumpled at my feet, their lives snuffed out in seconds. They were supposed to be guards, protectors of this twisted operation. Instead, they became nothing more than speed bumps on my path to her.
The crimson staining the concrete floor should have satisfied the beast clawing at my insides. It didn't. Not even close.
I found her tied to that chair, physically unharmed but shaken. My wolf howled for more blood, more vengeance. The bastards who took her were dead, but it wasn't enough. Julian Cassian still breathed. Still walked free. That oversight would be corrected soon.
The phrase echoed through my skull like a war drum. No one touches what's mine.
But she wasn't mine. Not really. Elisabeth Kendrick belonged to herself, not to me.
