Mila fisted her hands as a burly bearded male came into sight, shaggy-brown hair down to his shoulders. It didn’t matter that those eyes were dark blue—she knew them. Knew the beard was as fake as the color of the contact lenses and the wig that covered the dark hair she’d trimmed many times. He was also wearing padding to make his figure seem bulkier.

None of that held her attention, though.

She was more concerned with his hands. He wasn’t holding a gun. He was holding two, and both were outfitted with silencers. One was pointed at Joel, and the other was trained on Dominic. Mila’s claws sliced out, and her seething cat let out a loud guttural hiss that rang in Mila’s ears.

“Motherfucker,” spat Dominic as a menacing intensity gathered around him like a cloak.

Dean inclined his head. “Yeah, I figured you’d feel that way about me.”

“Hello, Dean,” said Mila, somehow keeping her voice calm even while panic tightened her muscles and poured down her throat, leaving a sour taste on her tongue. Her heart was pounding with a thick, insidious, all-consuming dread.

She now had a little taste of how Dominic must have felt seeing Rosemary pointing a gun at her. Terrified. Powerless. Enraged.

Unlike Rosemary, Dean’s hands were steady as he aimed those guns, and she could see he’d be perfectly comfortable using them. Knew he’d shoot Dominic without blinking, and he’d think nothing of it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Adrenaline pumped through Mila, feeding her cat’s need to act. Lunge. Maim. “You know, Adele doesn’t believe you could possibly be the person who put a price on my head, but I think it’s safe to say that her faith in you is somewhat misplaced.”

A muscle in Dean’s cheek ticked. “My original plan was to make a deal with you, you know. I thought the two of us could somehow conspire to separate Adele and Joel. But I quickly sensed that you wouldn’t go for that, so I improvised.”

“Improvised? You put out a fucking contract on me, Dean.”

His jaw hardened. “I need her, Mila. I’ve needed her since the moment I first saw her in a vision. I spent years looking for her. Years. She’s mine; she should be with me, where she belongs. Not with some goddamn asshole who can’t recognize his own true mate even though she’s right under his fucking nose.”

Stepping farther into the room, Dean sneered at Joel. “Never once asked yourself why you were so drawn to Mila, did you? Adele didn’t want to switch back to your pride, you know, Mila. He pushed for the transfer, not her. And we all know it’s because part of him needs to be near you. Even now, when he finally knows the truth, he won’t demand to have what’s rightfully his.”

Dominic snarled, his neck corded, his muscles straining against his skin. “Mila will never be his. She’s mine.”

Dean frowned at him. “You have a predestined mate somewhere—”

“Mila is my mate,” Dominic stated, itching to pound his fists into the fucker’s face, just as his wolf itched to maul the living shit out of him. “Doesn’t matter to me what fate intended. I decide my own fate, and I chose Mila. She’ll always be my choice. So you can imagine just how badly I want to slit your fucking throat right now.”

“Well, we’re about to put your devotion to the test. We’ll see how much you really want her after she fucks her true mate right in front of you.” Dean smirked at Joel. “You want that, don’t you? You might not like that you want her, but you do.”

“Not gonna fucking happen,” Dominic rumbled.

Joel’s nostrils flared. “I love Adele—”

“She’s not yours to love,” snapped Dean. “And you can’t deny that you want that female over there who was made especially for you. Yeah, you want her. And now you’ll take her right here.”

Mila glared at him as a cold anger twisted her insides. The guy had obviously hopped onto the crazy wagon at some point. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” said Dean. “The only reason I didn’t kill him long ago is that the abrupt snapping of the imprinting bond could lead to Adele’s death. But I heard what he said just now. There’s a strain on the bond. It’s fragile. If the bond quite simply fades and crumbles to nothing, it won’t hit her so hard—she can survive it.

“Now that you both know the truth of who you are to each other, it won’t take much to make his bond with Adele fade. The mating urge would then kick in straightaway, and you and Joel will be driven to claim each other. Then Adele will be free of him. Joel, grab that chair and sit in it,” Dean instructed. “Good.” His eyes snapped back to her. “Now strip, Mila.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed. Her cat bashed at her, wanting the freedom to attack.

“No, you’ll be fucking Joel. And if you don’t, I’ll fire the gun that I’m pointing at Dominic’s head.”

Which was no doubt why Dean hadn’t already shot him, she thought—he knew that threatening Dominic would gain him her cooperation. And while she’d do just about anything for Dominic, she wouldn’t do this. It wouldn’t keep him alive. Dean didn’t plan for anyone other than himself to walk out of this room alive. He just wanted to make sure the imprinting bond between Joel and Adele was severed.

Her only real chance of saving Dominic would be to take her chances and lunge at Dean. He’d have to aim one of his guns at her to defend himself, which would then free either Joel or Dominic to move. Sadly, though, she’d be highly likely to get shot. Again.

“You’re wasting time, Mila,” said Dean.

Dominic lifted a brow. “You think I’ll just stand here while my mate fucks another guy?”

“Well, you can either stand still or be shot in the kneecaps.” Dean shrugged. “Either works for me.”

“So what, you think Adele will ride off into the sunset with you?” Mila shook her head. “She’ll consider this a betrayal.”

“No, she’ll see that I was right and that all it really took for you and Joel to claim each other was simply having the opportunity,” Dean argued. “She’ll see it was inevitable and that I saved her pain in the long run.”

“No, she’ll see that you’re fucking twisted—she won’t want anything to do with you.”

“I’ll take that chance. If I don’t, I lose her anyway. Now strip.”

“Hell fucking no.” Her whole body jolted as Dean fired a bullet at Dominic’s feet before quickly aiming the gun at his head once more. “Son of a bitch.” Her cat hissed, spat, and generally lost her mind.

Nostrils flaring, Dominic narrowed his eyes at the little fucker. “I’m going to kill you, you know,” he said conversationally.

Dean snickered. “I’m sure you think you—”

Joel sprang to life. With pallas cat speed, he jumped out of his seat and whirled on Dean, slicing at the tendons in the bobcat’s arm. A gun dropped to the floor. Fired. But the bullet harmlessly sank into the sofa.

Still, Mila flinched with a curse. She would have made a grab for the fallen weapon if it wasn’t somewhere behind Dean. Joel was currently trying to wrestle the second gun from the bobcat, both his hands locked around Dean’s wrist.