He closed the door to the library, forcing himself to focus on the stack of reports he’d had brought up. He’d told himself that setting up a secondary office was simply practical, that it would allow her to work unimpeded. It certainly wasn’t because he didn’t think he could be around her all day without doing something profoundly reckless, like hauling her across his desk and?—
No.He needed to focus on the reports. Supply requisitions. Territory patrol schedules. A complaint from the Westbrook pack about border incursions that was almost certainly manufactured to justify their Alpha’s posturing. Normal things. Alpha things. Things that had nothing to do with grey eyes magnified by oversized glasses or the way her heartbeat had stuttered when he’d stepped too close in the hallway.
He picked up the first report and read the same sentence four times without absorbing a single word.
Fuck. This is Derek’s fault.
His brother had known exactly what he was doing when he’d sent Harper to Moonstone. Known and probably laughed about it, the manipulative bastard. Adrian had told himself that his first reaction to her was nothing, just a temporary aberration, but that illusion had vanished the second he’d seen her again. It wasn’t just because he’d been too long without…
Without what?A mate?He’d stopped believing in that particular fairy tale years ago.
Because of Vivienne. Because what she’d done to the pack, to his father, to him, had destroyed his faith in any type of mate bond.
The memory of Vivienne’s face suddenly flickered and shifted, overlaid with pink hair and intelligent eyes that sparked with defiance when challenged.
His jaw clenched.
Harper Bailey was nothing like Vivienne. He knew that intellectually. She was awkward where Vivienne had been polished, direct where Vivienne had been subtle, apparently incapable of hiding a single thought that crossed her expressive face. She’d challenged him in the hallway—demanded privacy, ground rules, respect—with none of the calculated seduction his stepmother would have employed.
But she was still a woman. Still capable of manipulation. Still a threat to his hard-won equilibrium, especially if his wolf continued its current campaign of territorial insanity.
A knock at his door pulled him from his brooding.
“Enter.”
The door opened to reveal Coleman, one of his enforcers and his second-in-command—a scarred veteran of too many border skirmishes with a face made for intimidation and a loyalty that had never wavered. Currently, that face wore an expression Adrian couldn’t immediately identify.
“Alpha. The human is settled into your office.”
“I’m aware.”
The other male’s gaze swept around the small library. “You could set her up in here instead,” he suggested mildly.
“No. She belongs in my space. It has the necessary infrastructure,” he added quickly, hoping that Coleman hadn’t picked up on the possessiveness in his voice.
Coleman shifted his weight, the movement telegraphing discomfort. “Some of the younger males are… interested.”
The word landed like a match on dry tinder.
Interested.
His wolf surged forward, flooding his senses with a possessive rage that had his vision flickering gold around the edges. Other males were interested. In his mate?—
She is not your mate,he snarled internally, forcing his wolf back with an effort that left him grinding his teeth.She is a consultant. A temporary inconvenience. Nothing more.
“Interested in cybersecurity?” he growled.
“Interested in her.” Coleman’s expression had shifted to something uncomfortably perceptive. “She’s attractive, Alpha. Unusual. Smells…” He trailed off at whatever he saw in Adrian’s face. “The young wolves are curious. That’s all.”
“Then uncurious them.”
“Alpha?”
“She’s here to work. Not to provide entertainment for hormonal adolescents who can’t control their instincts.” He was on his feet without remembering standing, his hands braced on the desk. “Make it clear that Ms. Bailey is under my protection. Anyone who makes her uncomfortable will answer to me personally.”
The words hung in the air between them, weighted with implications he refused to examine.
Coleman’s scarred face remained carefully neutral. “Understood. Though if I might point out—putting her in your office and placing her under your protection is going to fuel speculation.”
