She was going to destroy him. He could feel it with absolute certainty—this small, brilliant, impossible woman was going to tear through every defense he’d built and leave him raw and exposed and completely at her mercy.
Not because she was like Vivienne, but because she wasn’t.
Harper was stubborn and brilliant and utterly incapable of the kind of sophisticated manipulation that had been Vivienne’s signature. She challenged him to his face, questioned his authority openly, showed her hand with every argument andobservation. There was no artifice in her, no hidden agenda beyond saving his pack and proving her own worth.
She was real. And that made her more dangerous than Vivienne had ever been.
Chapter Fourteen
Harper fled.
She didn’t run—that would have been too much of a victory for him—but she walked out of the office with as much dignity as she could muster, her head held high, her shoulders straight. She made it all the way to her room before the shaking started.
She leaned against the closed door, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body was still humming, her blood still thrumming with the aftermath of his touch. She could still feel the scrape of his teeth against her throat, the pressure of his hand on her breast, the devastating glide of his finger…
“Stop,” she whispered, pressing her palms against her closed eyelids. “Just stop.”
Her body wasn’t listening. Her body wanted to go back down there, climb him like a tree, and beg him to finish what he’d started. Nothing in her admittedly limited range of experience had prepared her for the sheer, overwhelming force of her reaction to him. This wasn’t attraction. This wasn’t lust. Thiswas elemental. Something as fundamental as gravity, pulling her towards him with an inexorable force she couldn’t begin to fight.
And he’d stopped. He’d pulled away when she was practically coming apart in his arms, all because of some lunar-driven nonsense about control and claiming and…
Permanent.
The word echoed in the suddenly quiet room. He’d said he wanted to claim her permanently. That he wouldn’t take her unless he was prepared to bind her to him forever. Most women would have run screaming from a declaration like that from a man they’d known for a week.
But she’d spent her entire life being temporary. A foster kid shuffled from home to home. A contractor brought in to fix a problem and then sent on her way. The girl who was always on the outside looking in, never quite fitting in anywhere long enough to put down roots.
The idea of being wanted permanently, of being claimed by someone like Adrian who took loyalty and responsibility as seriously as breathing… it was terrifying. It was also the most tempting thing she’d ever heard.
You’re the first person in a very long time who’s made me want to try.
The words she’d thrown at him echoed back at her, and heat flooded her cheeks. What had she been thinking, saying something so vulnerable, so honest? She’d spent her entire life building walls precisely to avoid moments like that, moments when someone else held the power to hurt her.
But he hadn’t looked like he was going to hurt her. He’d looked like she’d just handed him something precious and fragile, something he hadn’t known he was missing until it was placed in his hands.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. She needed information. Advice.
She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her pathetically short contact list. Most of the names were work colleagues, takeout restaurants, and a single emergency contact—her former foster sister Sarah, who lived in Portland now and only called on holidays. Not exactly the kind of relationship where she could text “hey, so I’m making out with a werewolf Alpha and I have questions.”
But there was one person who might actually be able to help.
Elise answered on the third ring, her voice bright and slightly breathless. “Harper! I was just thinking about you. How are you finding the pack?”
“Confusing. I need advice.”
“You want advice from me?” Elise sounded both pleased and shocked. “I’m not sure what advice I can give you, but I’m willing to try. What’s going on?”
She hesitated, suddenly unsure how to explain her situation without sounding like a complete mess. “It’s about… werewolf dynamics. Specifically, umm, male werewolf dynamics.”
The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes.
“Is there someone in particular?” Elise asked carefully.
She closed her eyes. “He’s… Adrian Moonstone.”
“Adrian? But he never gets involved with?—”
“With humans?” she asked, unable to keep the bitter note out of her voice.
