“They’re both suspended, as of now. Cover the gate with the next shift. And what about Mackenzie?” Flanagan rests my head against the top of his solid thigh to take his gloves off. Flame prickles between us as he strokes back my damp hair. My nostrils fill with the smell of leather and male musk. It’s a delicious combination, sending a bolt of arousal to my already straining cock. It seems the stronger the Flame, the more desperate I am for touch and sex. I’m caught between wanting to pull my head away and a desperate need to bury my face in his groin and take a deep breath. I’m too weak to fight his hold, as gentle as it is, anyway, and when the Flame tingles from my skin to meet his fingers, cooling the fire in my brain, a sigh leaves my lips.

“We haven’t found Mackenzie yet, sir,” Seonu says. “His men don’t know where he is. I’m worried. I think something may have happened.”

“Find him. Get Miller’s team on it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about Michael?” Laasya asks. “He needs medical attention.”

“He needs Grounding, Laasya,” Flanagan says. “Then we can take care of the rest. Have you got the key to the manacles?”

“We can’t find it, sir. We think Belanger might have thrown it. It’s one of his tricks.”

That jerks my attention from Flanagan’s touch. “No.” The thought of being stuck in these spreaders and chains fills me with a black dread.

Flanagan strokes my head, pressing it into his thigh. “Shhh. Don’t worry. Once I’ve cooled that fire, I’ll break them myself if I have to.”

“Is it wise for us to release him, sir?” Seonu asks. “Belanger and the Shifters nearly died with the Wielder wearing a suppression collar and irons. How? Belanger was out of order, but if it’s true that Michael raged again and tried to escape, shouldn’t we keep him secured?”

“He’s not well,” Laasya argues.

Flanagan kneels in front of me, takes my head in his palms, and holds my face up to his. The fire in my body rushes to his hands and anywhere his skin touches mine. I lean into him, wishing he would press against me. “Michael. Look at me. Did you try to escape?”

I raise my gaze to his. “No,” I rasp.

A thunderous expression crosses his face. He takes a long, steadying breath, his hold on me tightening. “Did he touch you?” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Belanger. Did he touch you, Michael?”

I can’t meet his eyes.

Flanagan rests my head on his shoulder, pressing my forehead into his neck. He smooths my hair. It’s a while before his breathing settles again. The two women wait.

“I really don’t like those Belangers,” Laasya mumbles.