We slip back into the room just as the last light dies behind the shutters, the door thudding shut behind us. My tail is still lashing with leftover triumph, ears pinned forward, every hair on my body thrumming with the need to keep Master close. I follow him to the narrow bed, shedding the stiff borrowed uniform in a single impatient wriggle, letting it pool on the floor.

  I curl myself around him the instant he sits, knees folding, body molding to his side, tail looping tight around his waist twice over, anchoring him to me. My head drops to his shoulder, cheek rubbing slow, deliberate circles, scenting him again and again until the room reeks of us and nothing else. They left food on the side table, stale bread, hard cheese, a few strips of dried meat, and I tear into it with greedy little growls, shoving twice as much into my mouth as he takes, chewing noisily.

  I’m halfway through gnawing a chunk of cheese, legs tangled with his, tail flicking lazy figure eights across his hip, when the door explodes inward with a splintering crack that makes my ears snap flat against my skull.

  Three guild guards fill the doorway, armor half fastened, faces twisted with rage and certainty. The biggest one has his sword already drawn, the others flanking with hands on hilts, eyes locked on us, on the blood we washed off but can’t quite hide from men who know what murder smells like. One of them snarls something about a body found in the rival guildhall, throat cut, drawers ransacked. Their meaning is clear, they know. They followed the trail straight to us.

  The rage hits me like lightning, white hot and blinding. My vision tunnels, every muscle coiling. No one comes into our space. No one threatens him. No one.

  In one fluid surge I’m off the bed, snatching my copper iron spear from where it leans against the wall, kite shield already strapped to my left forearm with a practiced snap. My tail bristles to twice its size, ears flattened to razor slits, lips peeling back from sharp teeth in a snarl that rips out of me low and feral. I plant myself squarely in front of Master, shield raised, spear leveled at the lead guard’s throat, the tip trembling with the need to drive forward and open him from jaw to gut.

  My voice comes out a venomous hiss, barely human, dripping with manic promise. “You kick in our door? You dare point iron at my Master?” The spear twitches. “Come one step closer and I’ll paint these walls with every drop you have. I’ll wear your guts like ribbons and laugh while I do it.”

  My tail lashes hard enough to whistle through the air, knocking the bedside lamp to the floor with a crash. I shift my stance wider, shield angled to cover Master completely, body coiled to lunge. The room reeks of adrenaline and the faint copper memory of earlier blood.

  The instant Master’s hand settles on my shoulder, heavy, steady, absolute, every coiled muscle in my body melts into trembling submission even as the rage keeps boiling under my skin. His fingers press just hard enough to remind me who owns every breath I take, and my spear dips a fraction, the killing point wavering away from the lead guard’s throat. My tail, still bushed out in fury, lashes once more before it curls tight around his wrist, looping twice, anchoring itself to him. My ears stay flat, lips still peeled back in a snarl, but the growl rumbling in my chest shifts pitch, sliding into a jagged, reverent purr that vibrates against his palm.

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  He speaks, voice low and cool, that perfect noir drawl that makes my knees weak and my claws flex with adoration. Calm. Untouchable

  “We got the job done,” he says, words drifting out lazy and precise. “Clean intel, clean extraction. Anyone outside this guild couldn’t possibly know the details. What’s a little guild on guild violence? Happens every week. Sapphire shouldn’t flinch about enforcing their own laws, that’s literally how merchant cross works. Laws shift the second you cross a guild line. Always have.”

  The guards shift, uncertain, swords half raised but suddenly looking ridiculous. I feel their confidence crack like cheap pottery under the weight of his bored certainty. My chest swells with manic pride, tail squeezing his wrist harder, fur bristling along my spine because he’s right, he’s always right, and these insects dared to barge in here thinking they could touch what’s his.

  I lean back into his hand, pressing my shoulder blade against his fingers, rubbing slow and shameless, marking myself with his touch while my eyes stay locked on the intruders. The spear lifts again, steady now, tip glinting as I angle the shield to cover him completely. My voice drops to a velvet hiss, dripping venom and devotion in equal measure.

  “You heard my Master,” I purr, the words curling out sweet and lethal. “Take your little swords and your little accusations and crawl back to whatever hole you came from. Because if you don’t, I’ll gut every last one of you right here, and he’ll watch me do it without spilling a drop of his drink.”

  My tail tightens around his arm, possessive, obsessive, refusing to let even an inch of space exist between us. Ears twitch forward just enough to catch the stutter in their breathing, the faint clink of armor as they realize the mistake they’ve made. I bare my fangs in a grin that promises slow, exquisite pain, body trembling with the effort of holding back only because his hand is still on me, grounding me, owning me.

  The leader’s face twists red, but before he can bark out another threat Master’s voice cuts through again. “What violence?” he says, utterly flat, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Either bang us to rights or let it get buried with every other bit of dirt this city’s choking on. Your call.”

  The words hang in the shattered doorway. Then he spits on the floorboards, a wet, defeated sound. “Clumsy,” he snarls, voice thick with disgust. “Sloppy work. Next time you leave less of a trail, or don’t come back wearing our colors.”

  They file out fast, boots thudding down the corridor, the broken door left hanging off its hinges like a warning no one will ever dare repeat. The second their footsteps fade my spear clatters to the floor, shield thudding after it. I don’t care about weapons anymore, I only care about him.

  I launch myself at Master with a ragged, desperate sound torn straight from my chest, arms locking around his neck, legs wrapping his waist so hard he has to catch me or let me drag him down. My tail lashes once, twice, then coils tight around his torso, binding us. My face burrows into the crook of his neck, nose dragging hard along his skin, inhaling deep lungfuls of his scent.

  My breath comes hot and shaky against his pulse, lips brushing the vein that beats only for me. “You sent them running,” I whisper, voice cracked and reverent, manic adoration dripping from every syllable. “You made them choke on their own rules and crawl away.” I drag my tongue slow up the side of his neck. “All mine. My brilliant, untouchable Master. No one takes you from me. No one.”