LOGINFor a long second, neither of us moves. The silence is thick enough to chew. Then, instinct or accident, my hand lifts—just a little, just enough for my fingers to hover above his, not quite touching, but close enough for the air between us to feel charged. My mouth opens around a breath I can’t see
I pivot from the window, bracing my spine against the desk’s edge, arms crossed—not defensive, but a brace against the collapse of everything I keep just beneath the surface. I watch him in the low amber: the way his jaw is shadowed, the subtle seams of fatigue at the corners of his mouth. I catalog
Lucas watches every movement, but doesn’t comment. His pen—some heavy, old-school thing with a gold clip—sits parallel to the edge of the table, perfectly aligned. He picks it up, spins it once between thumb and index finger, and sets it back down with a sound just audible above the rain. “You don
The rain is worse than usual, a steady artillery on the glass that shivers every window in the building. From this height the city is smeared into an abstract—neon bleeding down concrete, red and gold chasing each other along the river in lines that never meet. Most of the staff filtered out an hour
“I had a sister,” Lucas says, and the words are so out of register for him that I almost miss them. My brain latches onto the tense: had. He lets the word hang, as if giving it permission to hurt. “She was younger, smarter, meaner. Used to say the only thing worth being in this world was necessary.
The rain’s ramped up since sunset, gone from window dressing to full performance: droplets ricocheting down the glass in fat, shivering streaks, each line gathering speed before splintering against the aluminum frame. At this hour, the city’s more abstraction than place—just a haze of sodium arcs an
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
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







