“Shit,”Talen mutters, already on his feet.
“What—”The word barely leaves me before he catches my wrist and pulls, quick and certain.
Cold stone slams against my back, air crushed from my lungs as one arm clamps down over my chest, holding me to the wall,the other locks down over my mouth. Leather and smoke, edged with something burnt, close in around me before I can stop them.
“Shhh,” he breathes, eyes flicking toward the corner where Lucien’s voice came from.
I shift to break free, but he doesn’t move. His body holds, solid and immovable, the full weight of him anchoring me in place. Heat and pressure surge through the contact, stealing any logical thoughts.
God, I forgot how big he is, how the space shrinks when he’s in it, how he makes everything feelsmaller. And fuck, he’s not just tall—he’s all hard lines and lethal strength, muscle carved like a weapon, pressed so close I can feel every inch of it. Built for war. And far too good at it.
“I know you’re out here, Goldie,” Lucien calls again, voice slow with lazy confidence.
Trying again, I move, attempt to duck low, slide beneath his arm. But he just presses back harder, thigh slipping between mine and something inside me falters hard.
“Come on,” Lucien adds, louder now. “I know you don’t want to, but we need you up there tonight. Don’t make me beg. It’s pathetic.”
Talen doesn’t answer, just mutters another curse under his breath.
Finally, Lucien’s voice drifts off as he moves away. “Ten minutes, by the barracks. If you ghost us, Merrin’s gonna lose his shit.”
The door clicks shut, yet the pressure holds. Talen’s weight still pressed against me, one arm across my chest, the other sealing my mouth. Head still turned, he watches the ledge as if the door might swing open again.
His chest rises—once, twice—hard against mine before those dark eyes drop to meet me.
For a heartbeat, he stiffens—just a flicker, like the closeness hits him all at once. Then his hand moves, and something dark coils low in my gut as it drifts back from my mouth, fingers trailing down my skin. Not rushed. Not apologetic. Just... intentional. Rough knuckles skim my jaw, tracing the line of my neck, so light it hurts. Then?—
“I have to go,” he murmurs, body still hard, hot, against mine. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I flash a sarcastic smile back, one corner of my mouth curling just enough to mask the twist in my stomach. “Can’t wait.”
“You joke,” he warns. “But if we’re doing this, and you actually want it to work, you’re going to have to learn to play along.” His gaze drops to my mouth. My spine straightens, hands twitch at my sides, caught somewhere between staying still and doing something reckless. “I’ll respect your boundaries, but you’re going to have to start trusting me.”
Breath brushes my skin, as he leans in, barely, but enough to drag memory to the surface: the taste of him, the drag of those lips on mine. My mouth parts before I can stop it, my body tilting a fraction forward.
He’s not kissing me. He’snotkissing me.
But if he did…
His eyes narrow, shifting back to mine. “Because if we screw this up, if anyone sees through it, it’s not just you getting Reassigned. It’s both of us. And I am not willing to let that happen.”
Chest still rising hard, he doesn’t move. Neither do I. The whole world narrows to the heat between us and the thrum under my skin as he catches his bottom lip between his teeth.
Then he exhales and steps back, running a hand through his dark waves, dragging tension out of his shoulders.
“But I think we’ll be fine,” he chuckles. “You’re already so damn convincing. Almost had me thinking there that you wanted to go for round two.”
My lips pull thin as a flush flares up my cheeks, heart kicking hard, but I shove it down, bury it where he can’t see.
I want to slap that Veirmont smirk off his face. Better yet, slice it clean off. Maybe then my body would stop betraying me every time he’s near.
But instead, I move. A clean, deliberate step in—close enough to see the flicker of confidence in his eyes. Then my knee shifts up fast and hard.The satisfyingthudto his groin knocks his grin sideways. Breath hissing, he doubles an inch, one hand reaches out to brace on the wall behind me.
“How’s that for round two?” I ask, folding my arms as he looks up, eyes glinting through the pain.
“Not bad, Thorn,” he rasps. “Was that part of the agreement? Don’t remember signing the physical abuse clause.”
I arch a brow. “Feel free to draft an amendment.”
