"Give that back," I said, reaching for my aluminum case.
Luca held my laptop two inches above my reach, his lips curving into a sharp, infuriating smirk. "Sit across from me in the club section, Nora. You get your hard drive back when we reach cruising altitude."
"I have work to finish before we land in Chicago," I snapped. "And I don't need a babysitter."
"Who said anything about babysitting?" Luca asked, spinning the laptop onto the polished cherrywood table between two cream leather recliners. He dropped into one and patted the seat facing him. "Consider it an incentive program."
"You act like an obnoxious teenager," I said, stepping forward.
Before I could grab the computer, a blister pack of small white tablets slid across the folding tray of the aisle seat behind me.
*Clack.*
I stopped.
Adrian stood by the overhead compartment, his dark jacket unbuttoned. He tapped the foil packet with his index finger, his hazel eyes completely calm.
"Sit on the aisle," Adrian said quietly. "Take two with water before the wheels leave the tarmac."
Luca leaned around his chair, scowling. "What is that?"
"Dramamine," Adrian replied without looking at his brother.
"She didn't ask for pills," Luca countered, his voice sharpening. "Stop hovering, Adrian."
"She gets airsick," Adrian stated, his tone flat and even. "Turbulence makes her stomach knot up, and commercial flights between New York and Boston usually wreck her for three hours."
The cabin went utterly still.
My mouth parted, the retort dying on my tongue. "How do you know that?"
"I read your private blog from six years ago," Adrian said, meeting my gaze squarely. "The one you forgot to delete when you joined Hale Biotech. You complained about turboprops twice a month."
Across the cabin, a seatbelt clicked into place with violent force.
Damian sat in the forward executive chair, his broad frame framed by the bulkhead window. His silver eyes were fixed on Adrian, cold and lethal. The air around him practically dropped ten degrees.
"You dug through her college archives," Damian said, his baritone rumbling through the pressurized cabin.
"I did thorough research," Adrian answered, turning his head slightly toward his older brother. "Unlike you, I don't assume intimidation solves everything."
"Enough," Damian commanded.
He didn't raise his voice, but the sheer weight of his Alpha presence rolled down the center aisle, thick and oppressive. The scent of heavy cedar flared off his skin, suffocating the cabin's filtered air.
"Sit down, Nora," Damian said, his eyes shifting to me. "The captain is waiting for runway clearance."
I glanced between the three of them.
Luca watched me like a card player holding four aces, daring me to sit across from him. Adrian stood by the aisle seat, his expression neutral, though his tattooed fingers rested lightly against the leather headrest. And Damian sat like a crowned king demanding homage.
I grabbed the motion sickness tablets off Adrian's tray.
"Thank you," I said to Adrian, keeping my voice clipped.
Then I walked straight past Luca, ignoring his outstretched arm, and dropped into the single captain's chair directly across the aisle from Damian.
Luca’s jaw tightened. "Unbelievable."
"Buckle up, Luca," Adrian muttered, taking the seat behind me with a faint, satisfied tilt of his head.
The twin jet engines whined to life, shaking the floor beneath my soles. I popped two tablets out of the foil, swallowed them dry, and clicked my harness shut.
Damian hadn't looked away. His silver gaze tracked every motion of my throat as I swallowed.
"You're defying me on purpose," Damian said quietly.
"I picked an empty seat," I replied, staring straight ahead at the cockpit door. "Don't flatter yourself."
"You chose to sit beside me."
"I chose to sit where nobody could steal my electronics." I shot Luca a pointed glare across the cabin.
Luca merely picked up my laptop, tapped the closed lid, and winked. "Whatever lets you sleep at night, sweetheart."
The jet surged forward.
G-force pinned my back against the leather as the aircraft tore down the runway. Outside, the gray sprawl of New Jersey vanished beneath thick, bruised storm clouds. The climb was steep, the engines roaring with deafening power.
Then the nose pitched down violently.
*Thump.*
The entire plane dropped twenty feet out of nowhere.
A sharp gasp ripped from my lungs. My stomach surged into my throat as the cabin rattled violently, the overhead bins groaning under the sudden shear.
The seatbelt cut hard into my hips. Another jolt hit us, tossing the aircraft sideways with sickening speed.
Panic took over before my brain could stop it.
I reached out blindly, desperate for anything solid to anchor me against the drop. My fingers slammed down against the broad armrest across the narrow aisle, closing tight over a thick, muscular forearm.
I gripped Damian’s arm like a lifeline.
The moment my bare fingers pressed against his skin, the cabin disappeared.
It was like grabbing an exposed high-voltage cable.
A blinding rush of heat surged straight through my palm, racing up my arm and striking the center of my chest with terrifying force. The world fractured into pure sensation.
Crushed jasmine and rich black tea exploded from my skin, flooding the cabin in an instant. Beside me, Damian’s cedar scent flared so fiercely it tasted like smoke on the back of my tongue.
The bond didn't just tug—it snapped taut, singing with an unbearable, violent resonance that rattled my ribs.
My head snapped toward him.
Damian wasn't looking at the ceiling or the rattling windows. He was staring at my hand on his forearm, his pupils dilated so wide the silver iris was reduced to a paper-thin ring. His chest heaved once, drawing in the sudden surge of my scent.
Before I could pull away, his massive hand flipped over.
His fingers clamped down around my wrist, locking my hand against his arm like an iron vise.
"Mine," Damian whispered.
The word barely made a sound, but it vibrated straight down into my bones. His thumb stroked the rapid pulse leaping at the inside of my wrist, his grip unyielding, his face hardened by a terrifying wave of naked possessiveness.
Across the aisle, the humor vanished from Luca's face.
His playful smirk dissolved completely, his features turning stark, rigid, and freezing cold. He leaned forward out of his seat, his dark eyes locked on Damian's fingers wrapped around my wrist.
"Damian," Luca warned, his voice dead of all warmth. "Let her go."
Behind me, the sound of paper rustling stopped entirely.
Adrian didn't say a word. He sat frozen in his seat, holding a quarterly financial dossier in both hands. His knuckles were bone-white against the paper. For ten agonizing seconds, he didn't breathe. He didn't shift his weight. He didn't turn a single page.
The air inside the jet thickened until it felt flammable.
Rain and sage from Adrian. Burning spice from Luca. Cedar from Damian.
Three rival scents collided in the tight space, crashing against each other in an escalating wave of raw territorial fury. The sheer force of their conflicting dominance pressed down on my temples like iron bands.
They were going to rip this cabin apart right mid-flight.
The realization hit me like ice water.
I braced my heels against the floor and yanked my wrist backward with every ounce of strength I possessed.
The sudden movement tore my skin from Damian's grip. The violent friction sent a shock of heat down my arm as I dragged my hand back to my chest, tucking it against my ribs.
"Don't touch me," I said, my voice shaking with fury.
Damian’s hand remained frozen in mid-air, his fingers curved into an empty claw. His chest rose and fell in ragged bursts, his silver eyes flashing with dark hunger.
"Nora—" Damian began, his voice gravel-rough.
"I said don't," I snapped, cutting him off.
Luca stood up from his chair, completely ignoring the glowing seatbelt sign above his head. The plane shuddered through another wave of turbulence, but he didn't stumble. He took one step into the aisle, towering over Damian's seat with his jaw clenched tight.
"You crossed a line, Damian," Luca said, his tone dripping with quiet venom.
Adrian finally dropped his dossier onto the tray table with a sharp slap. He unbuckled his belt and rose to his feet, stepping into the narrow space between them.
"Sit back down, Luca," Adrian said, his hazel eyes burning. "Both of you. Before I make you."
"Try it, little brother," Damian growled, rising from his chair to meet them.
The three brothers stood locked in the center aisle, shoulder to shoulder, chests heaving, their presence pushing the cabin to the absolute brink of violence.
And thirty thousand feet in the air, there was nowhere for me to run.
