Alpha Terrell's POV
I watched the knife placed against Angel's throat.
The angle, the pressure, the fraction of an inch between the blade and the skin of her neck, and every part of me fought for restraint, for control. Knowing that one wrong move might end her life.
The guard holding her had steady hands. He didn't shake. Not once.
"You know what to do," he said. Looking at me. Reading my face. "The cross. Now."
Angel's eyes were on me.
Not frightened - or frightened, yes, the fear was there, I could see it in the set of her jaw and how still she was, but underneath the fear, was a little fierceness.
"Don't," she said.
Her voice was steady.
The guard's arm tightened. "Another word from you and I'll…"
"Don't get on that cross," Angel said, directly to me, over the guard's warning. "Don't do it. Fight. I'll be fine, just…"
"I said shut the fuck up!" the guard thundered, the pressure of the blade piercing into her skin.
Angel went quiet.
