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Fuck. My phone must have gotten a moment of service after the storm passed and connected to the tower. It pinged my exact location straight to the syndicate enforcers.

Pure, suffocating panic takes over. My hands shake so badly I nearly drop the phone onto the soft rug. I delivered the club right into their hands. I brought them straight to Onyx's door. If they come here, they won't just take me. They’ll burn the Rebel Kings to the ground. They will kill Onyx because of me.

I can't let that happen. He’s given me too much. He is too good to die for a broken, branded runaway.

Moving with frantic, silent precision in the quiet moments just after sunrise, I quickly pull on my clothes. I shove the burner phone deep into my pocket and blindly stuff my few meager belongings back into the suitcase. Tears blur my vision, tracking silently down my cheeks as I look back at the bed one last time. Onyx looks so peaceful, his dark hair messy against the pillows, his large chest rising and falling steadily.

I love you, I whisper silently into the shadows. And that's why I have to go.

Determined to slip away and draw the syndicate's fire far away from the man I love, I zip the suitcase, turn the handle of the bedroom door, and step out into the hallway to handle the threat alone.

CHAPTER NINE

ONYX

Ireach out across the mattress, searching blindly for soft, warm curves.

I find nothing but cold, empty sheets.

My eyes snap open. The pale, grey light of early dawn is barely peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. I sit up, my chest instantly tight, the silence in the cabin ringing in my ears.

"Eden?"

No answer. I throw off the heavy quilt and scan the room. Her beat-up suitcase is gone.

A primal, possessive fury detonates in my blood. It isn't directed at her—never at her—but at whatever ghost from her past just chased her out of my bed. I know exactly how her mind works. She thinks she can run. She thinks she has to sacrifice herself to keep me and my club safe from the syndicate's crosshairs.

Like hell.

I don't even bother grabbing a shirt. I throw open the front door and hit the wet wooden steps barefoot, my eyes scanning the tree line and the long gravel driveway. The coastal morning mist is thick, clinging to the damp earth, but I see her. A curvy, determined silhouette dragging that heavy suitcase toward the main road, her head ducked against the chill.

I close the distance in seconds, my long strides eating up the gravel.

"Eden!"

My roar echoes off the trees, a raw, booming sound that shatters the quiet morning. She freezes, her shoulders hiking up to her ears. She turns, her wide, doll-like hazel eyes spilling over with terrified tears.

"I have to go," she cries, backing up a step, her knuckles turning white around the handle of her suitcase. "My burner phone… I forgot to turn it off. It connected to a tower in the middle of the night. The syndicate sent me messages. They know where I am, Onyx. I'm bringing them right to your door!"

The thought of those Black Meridian bastards coming anywhere near her makes my vision go red. I don't slow down. I don't stop to reason or argue. I cross the last few yards, knock the suitcase out of her hand, and scoop her off her feet.

She gasps, dropping the handle as her hands fly instinctively to my bare shoulders to steady herself. "Put me down! You don't understand, they'll kill you! They'll burn the club down!"

"Let them try," I growl, tightening my iron grip on her thighs and marching straight back toward the cabin. "You think I give a single fuck about a hit squad? I'm a Rebel King. I handle the monsters, Eden. I am the danger."

She trembles against my chest, her tears hot against my collarbone, but I don't stop walking until we are back inside the cabin. I kick the front door shut with a heavy thud, carry her straight into the bedroom, and drop her gently onto the center of the mattress.

Before she can even try to scramble up, I follow her down.

I secure her beneath me, my knees bracketing her hips. I bring my large hands down on either side of her head, caging her completely, pinning her gently but immovably to the bed. Her chest heaves, her breath catching as she stares up at me, trapped beneath my massive frame.

I wait until her frantic, tear-filled eyes lock onto mine, forcing her to see past her panic and register the unyielding truth in my gaze.

"Listen to me, Raindrop," I demand, my voice dropping into a deadly, resonant rumble that vibrates through the mattress. "You are not a burden. You are not bait. You are not a debt to be collected."

She lets out a soft, broken whimper, her bottom lip quivering.

"You belong with me," I vow, leaning down until my mouth is hovering just an inch above hers. "The club protects its own, and you are mine. You are never, ever, leaving me again. Do you understand?"