FAZER LOGINI can. I do. The door hisses shut behind me, and the sound is a relief so complete it almost floors me. The corridor outside is low-lit, hushed, a world apart from the glass box I’ve just escaped. LEDs run the length of the baseboard, cold blue-white, washing the marble in the kind of glow that tu
But the victory is cut short when the light from the projector passes through my fingers. For a split second, I see it—my nails are too long, the tips gone sharp, the cuticles retreating. It’s not a trick of the light. It’s the thing inside me, crawling toward the surface. I press down harder, feel
He interrupts, smiling, “It’s not the resumes, it’s the retention.” I smile back, but it’s a trick. “We retain better than anyone in this zip code. Anyone on this floor, even.” Trent snorts. “That’s not what LinkedIn says.” The wolf in me bares its teeth, just behind the mask. “If you believe eve
The conference room is a crystal box with its own climate: cold and wet, like the inside of a shark’s mouth. Forty-two floors up, the city grid throws itself at the windows, desperate for a foothold, and fails. Every pane reflects my face, multiplied and refracted, the effect like being stalked by m
I offer a smile, all teeth, but none of them friendly. “If you’re worried, Arthur, I suggest you keep your seatbelt on. The next quarter’s going to be a hell of a ride.” He laughs, soft and practiced, and sits back. The contest has drawn blood, but neither animal is ready to yield. Above us, the l
He lets the word legend hang, and it lands with the weight of a threat. Hargrove’s jaw tightens, but he tries for neutral. “We were just reviewing the final deliverables. I assume you have something to add, Mr. Reynolds?” Arthur folds his hands, fingers interlaced, and leans forward just enough to
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







