Or thrown her phone in a lake.
Fuck.
I throw off the sheets and head to the bathroom.
The shower's scalding, steam filling the small space, but I can't wash away the feeling of her.
Can't stop replaying last night—the way she kissed me like she was drowning and I was air, the way her body responded even when her mind tried to protect her, the way she cried after, and I held her while she broke.
The way she promised to stay.
Just for tonight.
And then she left anyway.
I get dressed mechanically—jeans, t-shirt, boots.
Grab my cut from the back of the door.
The room looks the same as it always does.
Messy.
Lived-in.
No evidence that Fenrir's daughter spent the night in my bed except for the lingering scent and the ache in my chest.
I need coffee.
Need to function like a normal human being instead of someone whose entire world shifted last night while the girl he loves ran before sunrise.
The clubhouse kitchen is already occupied when I get downstairs.
Ulf's at the counter, dumping sugar into a mug that's probably more caffeine than liquid.
Hakon's at the table, feet propped up, scrolling through his phone.
They both look up when I walk in.
"Well, well," Hakon grins. "Look who finally emerged from his cave."
"Morning," I mutter, heading straight for the coffee pot.
"So?" Ulf turns, leaning against the counter. "Did you find her?"
I pour coffee, focus on keeping my hand steady. "Yeah."
"And?" Hakon's watching me now, that assessing look he gets when he knows something's up. "She give you shit for playing hero?"
"Something like that."
"Where is she?" Ulf asks. "You take her home?"
The question lands like a punch.
Where is she?
Not here.
