MasukThe silence is heavy—so heavy that when he finally speaks, the words seem to come from inside my chest, not his. “Whatever you need, Mara. I’ve got your back.” The effect is almost chemical. My skin prickles, blood surging under the surface. The hunger shifts, finding a new target in the heat of h
“Thanks,” I say, then gesture him inside. “But I was just leaving.” Lucas ignores the invitation and enters anyway, moving with that predator’s grace that always gets him underestimated. He scans the desk, the perfectly aligned files, the empty space where my laptop should be. He notices everything
There is a ritual to this, and I cling to it. Contracts go on the left. Personnel issues to the right. Litigation files dead center, because that’s where the real pain will be when I’m gone. I check the time—1:09 a.m.—and realize I’ve been at this for nearly thirty minutes, just shuffling paper. My
I kill the lights and let the rain speak for me. The only illumination left is the band of halogen from my monitor and the occasional spasm of lightning over the river. My office is a ship adrift, glass walls flexing with every gust, the city outside dissolving into grey static. It’s long past midni
I stare at the last item in the kit: a burner phone, set to autodial Lucas if I press the panic button. There’s a temptation to smash it, to sever the backup plan and force myself to trust only my own willpower. But I don’t. The wolf in me knows the value of fallback positions, and the human isn’t s
The transformation always begins subtly—an itch beneath the skin, a metallic taste where there should be only saliva and regret. Tonight it arrives early. The moon is only a waxy gash in the cloud cover, but my body reads the angles, the old arithmetic of hunger and inevitability. The pulse in my wr
I gather the pieces of myself and leave the office. My own intentions are as fractured as his. I cannot think straight with the scent of him so fresh, so insistent, so much like a promise. The door swings shut behind me, cutting off the warmth and memory of Derek's presence with surgical precision
I stiffen, a snarl forming at the back of my throat, before I manage to smooth it into something more civil, more human. This is not what I expected, not what I am prepared for. I should have known. I should have known he'd come. "Mara," his voice drawls, easy and confident, but I hear the challeng
The lock clicks behind me as I slip into the office. I am the wolf, even in tailored business attire. Even with it all wrapped up so tight. The edge of my existence cuts deep. The aftertaste of the night clings to my senses, a raw, metallic tang that I cannot swallow away. My steps falter, then re
There is a freedom in it, a temptation that digs claws deep into my resolve and leaves it ragged and bleeding. I have spent a lifetime restraining the urge, tightening the leash until it bites into my own flesh. But the promise of release is a seductive whisper, its breath warm against my neck, its







