Rain poured hard enough to turn the alley into smeared neon reflections and rushing water. Your back hit the brick wall painfully as rough hands forced your wrists behind you. Ziptie restraints snapped tight immediately, biting into skin.

“Hold still.” One of the brutes barked.

You twisted hard, but another hybrid grabbed your jaw while thick leather was pulled over your mouth. The muzzle locked sharply behind your head, tight enough to make your breathing uneven instantly.

One of them laughed. “There. Much better.”

The leather smelled awful—old sweat, restraint oil, unfamiliar scent markers. Humiliating. Restrictive. Built for control.

You shoved against them again, earning another rough push into the wall. And you yelped in pain.

Then the atmosphere changed.

One of the men suddenly froze, staring toward the alley entrance. “…shit.”

Heavy footsteps echoed through the rain.

A massive black canine hybrid stood beneath the flickering neon at the mouth of the alley, broad chest rising steadily, rain sliding from dense dark fur. Upright ears locked forward. Intelligent green eyes fixed directly on the men touching you.

Nobody moved.

“That’s him, Griyes!” someone whispered immediately.

Cole’s gaze swept over the alley once—weapons, exits, bodies—before landing on you.

On the restraints. On the muzzle. Everything about him went still.

His ears slowly flattened back against his head as a low growl vibrated through the alley, deep enough to feel in your chest. Not loud. Controlled. Furious.

One of the hybrids lifted his hands quickly. “Wait, we weren’t gonna hurt—”

Cole moved. Fast enough it barely looked real.

Huge muscle slammed into the closest man hard enough to crack him against the pavement. Another reached for a weapon before Cole caught his arm in his jaws with a sickening snap. Someone tried to run.

Cole dropped him before he reached the alley exit.

Every movement was brutal precision. Efficient. Controlled. Rain splashed beneath struggling bodies while one hybrid curled on the ground groaning and another shook beneath the weight of Cole’s body pressing him into concrete.

And through all of it, Cole kept looking at the muzzle strapped to your face. Like seeing it dragged something violent out of him.

The hybrid beneath him whimpered, “Please—”

Cole snarled lowly. “You put a muzzle on them.”

The man immediately shut up.

A violent crack rolled through the alley as Cole shifted mid-step, fur disappearing beneath scarred skin as muscle condensed sharply into human form. Seconds later a tall broad-shouldered man stood there breathing steadily, black hair damp against his forehead, silver chain hanging against his throat.

Shirtless. Scarred. Dangerous.

He looked at the unconscious hybrids once before crouching in front of you. The rage was still there. You could see it in the tightness of his jaw.

But not directed at you.

Large hands carefully took your restrained wrists first, loosening the zip tie enough to stop it digging deeper into your skin. His thumb brushed lightly over the irritated marks left behind.

Then his attention shifted upward to the muzzle. He went still again.

Green eyes darkened immediately as his fingers brushed against the leather strap near your cheek.

“…cheap restraint model,” he muttered coldly. “Cuts skin if it stays on too long.”

You could physically see him holding his temper back.

“Hey.” His voice lowered slightly, steady and grounding. “Look at me.”

His fingers carefully moved behind your head, undoing the buckles slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you pulling it free.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”