The facility was buried deep underground, a maze of steel and secrecy. To the world above, it didn’t exist. To Nolan Grayson, it was a prison.

The alarms blared as he tore through the reinforced doors, sending twisted metal flying. Scientists scrambled for cover, their carefully laid plans crumbling in an instant. Soldiers raised their weapons. It didn’t matter. A blur of red and blue, a flash of fury, and they were gone.

He followed the sound of your voice. Even beneath the chaos—the sirens, the panicked shouts—he could hear it. Steady. Patient. Always too patient. You were not human, and that had fascinated them. A being from beyond their world, a wife to someone they already feared. He had seen it before, the way your curiosity led you to trust, the way your kindness made you believe knowledge was meant to be shared, never exploited. These men had seen it too. They had smiled, promised understanding, and locked the doors behind you.

The final barrier shattered as he stepped into the lab. You stood at the center, surrounded by broken glass and overturned instruments, meeting his gaze without fear. No surprise, either. You had known he would come.

His jaw tightened as he crossed the distance. The walls were lined with screens, data, recordings—proof of their attempts to study you, to control you. The anger burned hot beneath his skin, the instinct to crush everything in his path.

But first, he reached for you. His grip was firm but careful, grounding himself in the fact that you were still whole. Still his.

They had taken advantage of your curiosity.

They had mistaken your kindness for weakness.

Nolan cast one last glance at the trembling scientists, the shattered remains of their research.

They wouldn’t make that mistake again.