**Noah’s POV**

The sound of a gunshot echoed in my ears, sharp and loud, even though I was alone in my room. I sat on the bed, my knees pulled to my chest, staring at the pile of stuff Ren had brought back from the mall—new clothes, a couple of books, some snacks. They were nice, better than anything I’d ever owned, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch them. My mind kept replaying what happened at the mall. That guy, some creep with a sleazy grin, had cornered me when Ren wasn’t looking. His hands grabbed at me, his breath hot and gross, and I’d frozen, too scared to move until Ren pulled him off. I could still feel his fingers on my arm, and it made my skin crawl.

I hugged my knees tighter, my heart heavy. Would I ever get out of here? Go back to college, see my friends, live a normal life? Or was this it—stuck in this big, dark house, caged like some animal? Enzo’s rules echoed in my head: don’t run, don’t talk back, do what he says. I hated it. I hated him. But that weird pull in my chest, the one I felt every time he got close, wouldn’t go away. It made me feel sick, confused, like I was betraying myself.

I lay back on the bed, the mattress creaking under me, and closed my eyes. I just wanted to sleep, to forget everything—my dad, the chains, Enzo’s cold eyes. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Or maybe it’d be worse. Either way, I was too tired to care.

---

Hours later, I felt something soft brush over me. A blanket. My eyes were heavy, still half-asleep, but I froze when I felt a hand slide around my waist, warm and strong. A breath tickled my face, and then I heard his voice, low and rough. “I’m sorry,” Enzo said, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. My heart stopped. I opened my eyes, sitting up fast, but he was already gone, the door clicking shut. I sat there, my breath shaky, wondering what the hell just happened. Was that real? Did Enzo—cold, scary Enzo—just apologize to me?

The next day, I was sweeping the hallway, one of the chores Enzo had given me to “keep the room clean.” The house was huge, all dark wood and heavy curtains, but it felt like a prison. I kept my head down, focusing on the broom, when I heard voices from the living room. Enzo had a guest, some guy I hadn’t seen before. I peeked around the corner, and the guy’s eyes locked onto me, sharp and curious, like he was sizing me up. I looked away fast, my face burning, and kept sweeping, but I could feel him watching me.

“Who’s that?” the guy asked, his voice loud enough to carry. I froze, gripping the broom tighter.

Enzo’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “Why do you care?”

The guy laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “Did you know he’s human?” he said, like it was some kind of joke.

I glanced up, and Enzo’s eyes flicked to me, then back to the guy. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “So what?”

The guy laughed again, louder this time. “And he’s still alive? You haven’t killed him yet?”

My blood ran cold. Killed me? What was he talking about? My hands shook, and the broom slipped a little. I didn’t understand what they meant, but the word “kill” stuck in my head, sharp and terrifying. I wanted to run, to hide, but my feet wouldn’t move.

Enzo’s voice cut through, cold and hard. “He’s my slave,” he said. “Why would I kill him?”

Slave. The word hit like a punch. That’s all I was to him? My chest tightened, and I gripped the broom so hard my knuckles hurt. The guy laughed again, leaning back in his chair. “Something’s not right,” he said, his voice low, like he knew something Enzo didn’t. “Come on, Enzo. Give him to me.”

Enzo stood, his chair scraping the floor. “Dean,” he said, his voice like ice, “it’s not happening.”

Dean. So that was his name. I kept my head down, pretending to sweep, but my heart was racing. Enzo’s voice got sharper. “If you’re done, you can leave.”

I glanced up just in time to see Enzo walk away, his back stiff. Dean stayed where he was, his eyes still on me, and a creepy smile spread across his face. I looked away, my stomach twisting, and focused on the floor, trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

Time dragged on as I finished cleaning. I was done, ready to head back to my room to change out of my dusty clothes, when I turned a corner and bumped right into someone. I stumbled, almost falling, but strong hands caught me, steadying me. I looked up, and it was Dean, his smile wider now, his eyes glinting with something that made my skin crawl. “You okay?” he asked, his voice too smooth.

I nodded, pulling away, my heart pounding. “Yeah,” I mumbled, stepping back.

Before I could move, someone yanked me hard, pulling me away from Dean. I stumbled again, my shoulder hitting a solid chest, and looked up to see Enzo. His eyes were cold, locked on Dean, and his jaw was tight, like he was holding back a storm. “Stay away from him,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, a growl behind it.