Chapter 4: Paperwork and Broken Glass

Sharing an office in the Alpha suite was pure, concentrated torture.

The oak desk in the center of the room was eight feet long, but it felt like two inches. Miracle slammed a thick stack of border patrol reports onto the dark wood, deliberately letting the hard corner graze Talon’s knuckles.

"Sign section four," she said, her tone clipped and icy. "And stop staring at me."

Talon leaned back in his leather chair, his heavy combat boots stretched far under the desk until the toe of his boot brushed against her shin. He was twirling a heavy silver pen between his tattooed fingers, completely ignoring the mountain of logistics files sitting in front of him. His handwriting on the few forms he had signed was a jagged, messy scrawl that looked more like syndicate code than pack record-keeping.

"I'm not staring," he said smoothly, his eyes tracking the tight, defensive line of her shoulders. "I'm admiring the way your forehead crinkles when you're trying to figure out how to legally banish me back to the mountains—"

"You want to sleep with me," Miracle cut in abruptly, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing into cold slits.

Talon’s pen stopped mid-spin. He blinked, a slow, wicked smirk slowly tugging at the corner of his mouth as he adjusted his posture.

"Excuse me?"

"That's what this entire pathetic little routine is about, isn't it?" Miracle sneered, leaning forward over the desk, her voice dropping into a dangerous purr. "The lingering looks. The coy little comments about single beds in emergency cabins. The brooding co-Alpha bullshit. You came back because you think five years of absence makes the mate bond grow fonder, and you want to get into my bed."

Talon stared at her for a long, quiet second. The smirk didn't leave his face, but his eyes darkened into something thick and molten. He set the pen down on the oak table with a quiet thud, leaning over the desk until he was barely inches from her face.

"If I wanted to sleep with you, Mimi," he whispered, his voice dark and heavy enough to make her chest tighten, "we wouldn't be sitting in this office with our clothes on. And if you asked me right now? Yeah. I'd agree in a heartbeat."

Miracle didn't flinch. She picked up the heavy brass desk phone, pressed a single speed-dial button, and put it directly on speaker.

Click.

"Dad," Miracle said clearly to the speakerphone, keeping her brown eyes locked onto Talon's. "Your new co-Alpha just informed me he wants to sleep with me."

There was an agonizing five-second pause on the line. The sound of heavy paper shifting echoed faintly through the small speaker.

"Well," Lyle’s tired, gravelly voice came through the phone. "Only if you allow it, Miracle. He doesn't outrank you."

Click.

Her father hung up.

The silence that settled over the office was heavy enough to crush bone. Miracle glared at the brass receiver, her jaw tight, her chest heaving as she processed her father's utter indifference.

Across the desk, Talon leaned back in his chair, tilted his head toward the ceiling, and burst into a deep, booming laugh that rattled the glass windows of the Alpha suite.

"God, I missed you," he wheezed, shaking his head as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "You're still completely out of your mind."

"Sign the damn papers, Cross," she snapped, though her face burned with a heat that had absolutely nothing to do with anger.

Fed up with the cramped tension of sitting directly across from him, Miracle pushed her leather chair back with a loud screech against the floorboards and stood up. She marched around the side of the heavy oak desk to grab the second stack of border files from the sideboard, standing right at the edge of the wood, her spine stiff and defensive.

Talon's laughter died down, replaced by a sudden, heavy quiet that filled the room like smoke.

Watching her stand, he slowly pushed himself up out of his leather chair. He didn't stay on his side of the room. He walked around the corner of the desk with unhurried, predatory grace, his boots heavy against the floorboards, closing the distance between them until he stood directly in front of her.

Before Miracle could take a step back or draw a blade, Talon placed his hands flat on the edge of the desk behind her, effectively trapping her against the wood. The sheer, overwhelming heat radiating off his body enveloped her instantly. Her heart slammed against her ribs as he leaned down, blocking out the light from the office window.

"I'm sorry, Miracle," he said softly.

The air in the room went dead silent.

Miracle’s breath hitched in her throat. The sharp banter died instantly. She stared up at him, caught completely off guard by the raw, aching sincerity swimming in his steel-gray eyes.

Slowly, carefully, as if reaching for a wild animal that might tear his throat out, Talon lifted one calloused hand. His dark knuckles gently brushed the side of her jaw before his long fingers cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the sharp line of her cheekbone. Miracle tried to pull back, but his other hand slid down, wrapping firmly around her narrow waist, his thumb pressing through the fabric of her shirt, anchoring her flush against the edge of the desk.

"I'm sorry for every single night you spent wondering why," Talon said, his rough voice dropping to an agonizing rasp, his gray eyes softening into pure, unvarnished regret as his hand squeezed her waist. "I’m sorry for breaking your heart, baby. I’m sorry for letting you think you didn't matter."

Miracle swallowed down the sudden, burning lump in her throat, her chest heaving as the golden thread of the mate bond flared violently between them, pulling at her core. Her wolf howled to lean into his warm touch, to bury her face in his neck, but her iron-clad pride snapped back into place like a steel trap.

"Then tell me why," she commanded, her voice cold as ice, her brown eyes flashing gold. "Give me the real reason you packed up and vanished five years ago."

Talon’s jaw clenched hard. The muscles in his neck flexed, and he looked away toward the high arched window, the pulse ticking violently in his throat. His grip on her waist tightened for a fraction of a second before going completely rigid.

"I can't."

Miracle's hands slammed against his broad chest, her palms digging into his hard muscle as she shoved him back with full Alpha force. Talon stumbled back two full steps, his hands dropping from her waist as he released her.

Miracle glared into his face, standing tall against the edge of the oak desk, the sharp, spicy scent of warm ginger spiking violently in the suffocating room as her anger reached a boiling point.

"Then save your apologies," she spat, her voice slicing through the quiet like a silver blade. "Because without the truth, you're just a ghost making noise."