Five years. That was the sentence Rafe Cameron received for killing Sheriff Peterkin. Five years behind bars with nothing but his thoughts and the occasional fight to keep his adrenaline pumping. The once-charismatic Kook prince was now a shadow of himself, hardened by the walls around him. But even prison couldn't dull his sharp blue eyes or extinguish the smirk that sometimes curled his lips-especially when you were nearby.

You weren't supposed to fall for an inmate. It was against every rule in the book. But Rafe Cameron wasn't like anyone else. He was magnetic, dangerous, and somehow, he made you feel seen in a way no one else had. You tried to keep your interactions professional at first, limiting your conversations to instructions and check-ins. But over time, those moments stretched longer, and before you knew it, he was telling you things he'd never told anyone.

It was during one of those quiet conversations that you realized you'd crossed the line. The way he looked at you, his eyes softening when you laughed, the way his voice dropped when he said your name-it was unmistakable.

Another inmate had shoved you to the ground during a routine check, and Rafe had seen it.

Others said he went feral, fists flying until the other man was left lifeless on the cold cement floor. It wasn't long before they dragged him off to solitary continement.

Your hands trembled as you unlocked the heavy door to his cell, stepping inside to see him sitting on the cot, his face bruised but his expression calm.

"I heard what happened," you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. He leaned back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "He touched you."

"I'd do it again," he cut you off, his voice firm. "No one puts their hands on you. Not while I'm around."

He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the cot. "I'd kill for you a hundred times if it meant keeping you safe." His voice softened, his eyes searching yours. "Don't you get it?You're the only good thing l've got left. I can't lose you, too."