“Stupid fucking swamp people.” I’m fucking sick of going back and forth to Louisiana and back. I’m done with the run around the fucking Andersson’s keep giving me. I’m done with the teasing looks from their Princess, Talia, and her tempting body.

I’m fucking done with the goddamn McCray’s and their sadistic fucking minds.

The only fucking thing I care about anymore is peace and quiet. Getting our shit show lives back to the way they used to be.

King Adair ran a tight ship and I’d always known I was going to essentially be a grunt man. Get my hands dirty, enforce our code on the rule breakers. I like the order I enforce inside of our chaos. It works.

Structure and routine are two things I need to maintain my role as King’s guard. When he sent me down to this hell hole I was ready to gut the man.

The heat and humidity alone is enough to make a man suffer.

Now I’m going back.

Luther brought home some chick that claims to be related to Thomas McCray and I’m sent back to find out what the fuck happened to the weasel.

I know Androph Andersson knows more than he’s let on in past visits.

Maybe this time I’ll use sweet natured Talia to get what I want. She has a crush on me. I see it in her eyes every time she’s in my vicinity. She never speaks, always watches.

She’s cute, young–far younger than I should be looking at–and Christ does she have a sweet little body.

I know once I get my hands on her, show Androph I can and will own his sweet little girl, I’ll get everything I need and more.

Pulling into the gates of his whole in the wall Plantation, a piece of land that should be historical and he’s turned into rubble I watch as Talia tends the garden. Her lilac dress billowing in the wind. Her blonde hair in a messy ponytail and just as untamed as her clothing. Her white cowboy boots are at complete odds with what she’s wearing and I smirk.

I bought them for her after our first meeting. It was meant as an insult. Me telling her she was too prissy. Soft.

I’d like to fuck her in nothing but those goddamn boots now. I’d bend her over the railing of the porch and pound her sweet pussy into submission. She’ll scream my name so loud the whole state will know who she belongs too.

Stepping out of my Range Rover, I slam the door loud enough Talia turns around. Her lips thin in annoyance upon seeing my presence. Her small hands fist at her sides as she stands.

“Castiel?” The hope in her voice contrasts what her body is saying. She wants to see me. Interesting.

Reaching my hand out to her, I say nothing. She walks to me, hesitant steps at first. As if her body doesn’t want to do as I request.

As soon as her fingers meet mine, I know I won’t let her go. Not now. Not ever. The feeling of her soft flesh is like a punch to my gut. Pulling her into my chest, I search her earie gaze. Her pupils have always been large, with just a small ring of cobalt surrounding them. Unique. Beautiful. Enticing.

I’ve always been drawn to her, seeing the acceptance and desire in them now cements the wants I’ve been fighting for weeks.

Leaning down into her five-and-a-half-foot frame, I run my nose along her cheek. Her eyes close. My whiskers rub her soft flesh, marking her. My left hand snakes around her back, guiding her into me, as my right cradles her head so she can’t move.

Her hands reach up to my chest, whether to push me away or pull me closer doesn’t matter. Her breath hitches in her throat and I murmur, “You’d be oh so pretty with my mark on every inch of your creamy flesh.”

I feel the shiver to work through her as she stutters, “M-m-mark?”

Licking the shell of her ear, I keep my voice low. “Whisker burns on your thighs, finger prints on your hips.” I trail one finger along her collar bone and up the column of her throat. “A hand print here.” My other hand grabs a fistful of her perky ass. “And here.”

“Th-that’s abuse.” She shudders in my embrace.

“No dolce,” I kiss the fluttering pulse in her neck, “that’s dominance and pleasure. That’s me thoroughly fucking you into submission.” I’m shocked by her sigh and body wilting into mine. “That’s me owning you.”

“Talia!” She stiffens as her father’s stricken voice calls from the wide porch I’d like to fuck her on.

When she tries to pull away, I warn her. “Move and you’ll regret it dolce.”

My body is torn.

Fear of my father.

Desire of Castiel’s promises.

Promises I feel like I’ve waited forever for. From the moment I first saw him I’ve wanted him. I knew my world was going to tilt on its axis the second his dead glare met mine. I’ve never seen any kind of emotion in his cold stares.

But now, as he commands me not to move, I see everything. The violence. The desire. The hatred. It’s clear in every flicker of his gaze.

He is the only man I’ve met that hasn’t feared my family in some way. He’s the only man to take a stand against them.

“Talia!” My father, Androph Anderrson, hollers again. I don’t need to be looking at him to see the spittle flying from his lips.

Sadly I fear my father more than I do Castiel and I go to move. With my first step Castiel’s hand glides seductively from the back of my neck to my throat and his iron grip tightens. Making it impossible for me to move.

Even as he holds my life in his hands, I don’t fear him. I don’t believe he’ll hurt me.

“Let her go, Adair.” My father snarls at the man twice as deadly as he.

Without breaking eye contact with me, Castiel tells him in a flat voice, “You have more information than you gave me.”

He’s angry. So angry. His grip on my throat tightens and my eyes widen in alarm as my hands grip his forearm. I can feel the muscles flexing, the skin rippling as he holds himself back.

Castiel wants to cause pain.

“I have nothing for you.” Androph insists.

I see two of his henchman slowly approaching behind Castiel and my body freezes as they draw their guns. Aiming them at his back.

He’s no fool though and has his own weapon out and the soft snick of a silencer puts a bullet in the chest of one of them before anyone can say a thing.

“Back off,” Castiel says evenly, “or she’s next.”

With one hand on my throat, slowly cutting off my airway, he brings the other up to my forehead. I can feel the heat from the smoking barrel against my skin.

For the first time since meeting Castiel, I do fear him. I never thought I would. I never thought he’d give me reason to. I was oh so wrong.

“Please don’t,” I try to plead with him.

I’m ignored and I want to scream.

“You’re not going to kill an innocent girl Cas. It goes against your code.” Tears stream down my cheeks silently.

“Exceptions can be made for King.” His callous words hurt my heart.

“Am I really expendable to you Castiel?” Only moments ago he wanted to own me. How could he want to kill me so easily?

“This is war baby, everyone’s expendable.” He smirks like it’s some big joke. Maybe, for him, it is. He lives in a world I know nothing of.

“Thomas left.” I tell him in a panic. “He had someone get plastic surgery to look like him. He was sent to Scotland.” I need this information to be worth my life. “They were going to trick you.”

“Talia!” My father roars, barging down the steps faster than I’ve ever seen him move. When he reaches behind him, I know he’s going for his knife, the one that’s scared me in more ways than I could ever show, and I flinch. When I try to step away, Castiel’s gaze clashes with mine. His brows draw down in question. “You stupid whore!” My father screams at me, raising his knife, preparing to throw it at me.

Castiel pulls me behind him, his gun aiming at my father and shooting a round into the large man’s knee. His scream of agony follows him to the ground.

“To the car.” Castiel snaps at me. “Now!” He says when I don’t move.

“You won’t get away with this.” Androph growls. “Talia, don’t get in that car.” I hear him. The threat. The malice. I know if he ever gets his hands on me, I’m more than dead.

I’ll feel pain unimaginable.

He’ll make me regret ever being alive.

Just like my mother, I’ll be a distant memory used as an example.

The car door slamming behind me is final. My fate is sealed. My life is over if I ever come back.