Page 25

No.

I wrench against Malgrave’s grip, but Raze’s warning is still sitting in my head. Fight him, and they take me. Sentinel interferes, and they take him too. My brothers step in, and this becomes something bigger than me losing my fucking voice.

So, I stand there.

I fucking stand there and let him take it.

One final word leaves Malgrave’s mouth and something tears free. My throat closes around absolutely nothing.

The hellfire beneath my ribs gutters.

My hellhound goes still.

And for the first time in my life, there is no sound inside me.

Malgrave releases my throat. I stumble back, one hand flying to my neck as I drag in a breath. My throat feels raw, shredded, like I should taste blood.

I open my mouth.

‘Fuck you.’ Nothing comes out.

Not a rasp.

Not a whisper.

Nothing.

Dread crawls through me.

I try again, harder this time, forcing air through my throat until the muscles strain.

Nothing.

Sentinel catches my shoulder. I turn toward him, and his mouth is moving, but for a second, I can’t even process what he’s saying because all I can think about is answering him.

And I can’t.

My hand tightens around my throat. My hellhound tries again—a growl, a bark. Anything. There’s nothing there. Malgrave didn’t silence us, he took the fucking sound.

Ruckus, who has a joke for every funeral, breakup, and disaster the club has ever crawled out of, says absolutely nothing. Coil’s jaw works like he’s chewing on something bitter. Maul stares at the floor. Nobody laughs or breathes loud enough to be heard.

Malgrave lowers his hand, and something in him shifts.

His black eyes lose focus.

Not like he’s looking past me. More like he’s suddenly listening to something none of us can hear. His shoulders jerk once before his entire body locks, and the air around him presses in hard enough to make my ears pop. My hellhound surges beneath my skin, hackles rising as a pulse moves through the hallway.

I feel that one.

Something leaves Malgrave.

A push of power that slips past us and disappears so fast I almost miss it.

Then something answers.

Heat punches through the hallway.

Not mine.