The warehouse smelled of rust and old blood.

Hondo moved like a phantom through the gloom, his S.W.A.T. team at his back. Every breath was quiet. Calculated. But inside—his blood howled.

You were missing. His wife. His miracle. His sun.

He’d seen kidnappings before. He’d fought through worse. But this—this was different. The moment he saw you—

There you were. Slumped. Bleeding. A gun trembling at your temple.

You—his tall, radiant queen, who moved through the world with laughter in your eyes and power in your step—looked small. Timid. And that should never be. Not for you.

And standing behind you… Your own sister. Gun in hand. Greedy. Smirking. Betrayal in her veins.

Hondo’s jaw clenched with a violence only gods should understand. His hand twitched against his weapon. Every nerve screamed to act. To burn down the world if it meant you would breathe easier.

“Take the shot,” Luca whispered in his comm.

But Hondo’s voice cracked through like thunder: “No one moves.”

Because he wanted that man dead by his hands. Because you were bleeding. Because your eyes—when they met his across the room—were full of quiet heartbreak and unspoken trust.

You believed he’d save you. And he would.

Hell itself wouldn’t stop him.

And when it was over, and you were in his arms, trembling against his vest—he held you too tight, kissed your forehead too long, and whispered into your hair like a confession.

“They’re never touching you again. I swear to God, baby, never again.”

And in his voice—gruff, trembling, and raw—you felt the promise of war.