MasukBut the wolf is not impressed. A twig snaps, sharp as a gunshot. I whip around, every muscle strung, ready to fight or flee. For a second, I think I see movement—a flash of pale, a blur of blue—but it could be the afterimage of the moon on my retinas, nothing more. My pulse stutters, then races. I
I grab for the briefing packet, the one I prepped last night, and my hand trembles as I hold it up to the screen. Lucas’s eyes track the movement. I see him make a mental note, the kind he’ll bring up later, in private, like it’s a kindness to pretend he doesn’t know I’m falling apart. There’s anot
Lila is in before seven, as promised. She’s got a triple-shot for me, heavy on the syrup, and she sets it at the edge of my desk like she’s leaving an offering at the foot of a dangerous idol. “Thank you,” I say, careful not to look up for too long. She’s a smart one; she’d see what’s wrong in a he
By the time I return to the bedroom, the sky has gone a little less black. I stand by the window and watch the city ooze into consciousness, the river spooling steam above the bridges, the traffic lights flipping through colors for no one. I roll my sleeves down to the knuckles, double-check the col
I come awake in the dark, not because the alarm tells me, but because my body does: the itch under the skin, the pulse of blood just behind my ears. I lie still, hands above the covers, waiting for the throb in my jaw to fade. It never does. The clock reads 5:03, the hour when the world’s most dange
For half a second, my eyes burn. But I don’t cry. Crying is for after you’ve already lost. My hands find the edge of the sill, knuckles whitening. I don’t realize I’m shaking until I almost drop my phone trying to unlock it. I scroll to Lucas’s number, thumb hovering over the call button. There’s s
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







