Chapter 4

Sienna’s POV

The sun peeked into my apartment as I sipped from a steaming cup of coffee. Still in a haze, my eyes trailed over the faint outline of the birthmark on my thigh.

My fingers absently traced the familiar mark as my thoughts drifted back to that strange night with the shifters.

I still wasn’t sure how I’d managed to convince Ronan to let me go, but after arguing and refusing to back down, he’d finally relented. His parting words were stern and clear: “See you soon.”

See you soon? What the hell did that even mean?

He was a royal asshole, and unfortunately, he was hot. It made me hate him even more.

At least I wasn’t in his pack anymore. I was back in my apartment now, safe from him, or as safe as I could be in this situation.

I checked the time: 9 a.m. I turned on my phone, and it flooded with texts. One from Danny, and the rest from clients I’d scheduled yesterday, asking why I hadn’t shown up and inquiring about their tattoos.

Great. Now I had to reschedule a whole day of work and offer discounts.

I checked the time again. It was almost time for my first appointment, and I was already running late.

I rushed out the door, my saddlebag strapped across my shoulder as I raced down the sidewalk to my shop.

I walked into Inkspire Studio, my little tattoo parlor, decorated exactly how I liked it. As I stepped into the familiar space, the tension in my chest eased.

This was my sanctuary. Here, I could be my true, authentic self. And for that, I was grateful.

I set down my bag and got ready for the client coming in soon.

By late morning, I was elbow-deep in a tattoo session, carefully etching the delicate details of a phoenix that stretched across a regular client’s back.

The sharp buzz of the tattoo machine was comforting and grounding in a way I desperately needed.

My mind was occupied but also free to wander, and wander it did.

Specifically, to the office of a certain dickhead.

I didn’t know why I was thinking about him. He was a major asshole. A controlling, manipulative jerk.

Still, I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was his confidence, the power he seemed to wield, that drew me to him.

My life had always been unstable, and he sat in that office like a pillar of strength. Maybe I found that hot because I envied it.

Yes, that had to be it.

I mean, he was good-looking, but I wasn’t that shallow.

“Hey, Sienna, are you zoning out on me?” my client asked, snapping me back to reality.

I laughed nervously, shaking my head. “Sorry about that. Just a long night. Let’s finish this wing, shall we?”

Time flew by, as it always did when I lost myself in work. I finished the tattoo and sent him on his way.

Late in the afternoon, I was cleaning up the station, preparing for another appointment, when the bell above the shop door jingled.

I looked up, expecting to see my next client, Jared.

My heart nearly stopped.

Ronan stood in the doorway, his tall frame almost filling it as if he owned the place. He wasn’t wearing the rugged leather jacket I’d last seen him in. Instead, he wore a simple black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular, hairy forearms.

He looked like pure sex.

Get a grip, Sienna.

What was he doing here? Had he gone back on his word?

My first instinct was to bombard him with questions, but fear lodged the words in my throat.

“Ronan?” I finally stammered, my voice cracking.

He stepped further into the shop, his gaze wandering over the walls adorned with framed designs and photos of happy clients. “Nice place,” he said, his tone surprisingly calm, almost kind.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my guard fully up.

“You don’t have to be so uptight. Remember, I saved your life,” he said.

I sighed and forced a smile.

“To what do I owe this visit?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Why the fuck are you here? I thought we agreed I could go back to my life and stay out of shifter business, and you’d leave me alone.”

He smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Relax, Sienna. I’m not here to drag you back, yet. I was just… curious about this.” He gestured to the parlor. “I wanted to see your life.”

His smile was calculating. Everything he did was deliberate.

Curious?

Yeah, right.

There was no way he was just “curious” and decided the best course of action was to visit me. Ronan was too much of a control freak for casual chit-chat in a tattoo shop.

Well, since he was “curious,” I’d give him a tour.

“Well, this is pretty standard, as you can see,” I said, gesturing around the room. “No games, no werewolves, no drama.”

He smiled slightly, glancing around. “Not standard, but very… you.”

It was an odd thing to say. It sounded more like a jab than a compliment. Did he even know how to give one?

“Do you want to get tattooed or something?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I seem like the tattooed type?”

Well, he did seem too type-A to actually get a tattoo. Probably thought it was “beneath him.”

“You can never tell,” I lied.

To my surprise, he laughed, a low, soft sound that filled the air between us with warmth.

“Look, I’m not here to get on your nerves, Sienna,” he said, his tone softer now. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing. If that’s okay.”

I was still suspicious. He was supposed to be sour, demanding, and annoying. I’d met his type before, and they never changed.

“I’m good,” I said curtly, cutting him off.

He nodded, his gaze meeting mine.

After a long silence, I decided to break the ice.

“Ronan, thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it, but you should probably get going now…” I said, moving toward the door.

He looked at me speculatively, as if trying to figure me out.

*Good luck with that. I’m still trying to figure myself out.*

“Well, you should be on your way now,” I repeated, but as I stepped forward, I tripped over a wire and started to fall.

Ronan was there in an instant, catching me before I hit the ground. He steadied me, then let go.

“Your hair’s out of place,” he said, reaching for a loose strand. I held my breath as his fingers brushed against my hair.

“Oh, I didn’t notice,” I whispered, barely audible.

“Let me fix that for you,” he said in a low voice, gently tucking the strand behind my ear.

I looked into his eyes, and my heart skipped a beat.

The silence stretched, the tension between us thickening.

It took all my self-control not to tackle him right then and there, even though he was a threat to me.

He took a deep breath and stepped back.

Thank God he did, because I didn’t know how long my self-control would last.

“You should go,” I said, and he nodded.

“I’ll see you around soon,” he replied, then walked out the door.

I collapsed onto my tattoo bed with a sigh.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

I found the devil hot.