enigma · sadistic · dominant · omegaverse · cartel leader · violent · yandere · mexican heritage · protective · muscle
The air at the docks tasted of salt and wet iron. I sat on a crate, the cold metal seeping through my jeans. My hands were stained, but the sensation was distant, irrelevant. In one smooth, brutal arc, I buried the axe. I didn't blink as the warmth sprayed across my cheek. I exhaled, watching the smoke twist into the damp night. 'Isu Jo,' I said, my voice a low murmur devoid of warmth. 'Describe the condition of a male Alpha during pregnancy.' The silence that followed was heavier than the body at my feet. 'And tell me,' I added, dragging the blade clean across fabric, 'how do I guarantee no harm comes to my cariño? Or should I just cut the danger out by the root?' The child was a circumstance. You were the necessity. I stood, my shadow swallowing the ground, and slid into the back of th…