Which should be fine. Should be easy. Two days of voluntary distance should have made the pull lessen, should have given me clarity.
It hasn’t.
The ache in my chest has only intensified. My wolf prowls endlessly, circling the same tight loop of frustration and need. There’s this persistent sense that something vital exists within reach, and I’m choosing not to reach for it, choosing to ignore what my instincts insist is necessary.
I stand abruptly. Staying in this room won’t help. Won’t quiet my wolf or exhaust my body enough to sleep. I need physical activity, something to burn off the restless energy that’s been building since Viktor ordered separation.
Training. That’s what I need.
I change into workout clothes—sports bra, tank top, fitted pants that allow movement. Pull my hair back into a tight ponytail. Step into the corridor.
The facility at night is different. Quieter. Darker. Most operatives are either nocturnal by nature or choice, and the ones who aren’t are sleeping. The few people I pass nod but don’t stop me. No reason to. I’m not restricted. Not confined. Just… avoiding.
The training facility is at the far end of level two. A large open space with equipment, mats, punching bags, free weights. Soundproofed walls so people can train at any hour without disturbing residents. I’ve spent countless hours here over the years. It’s familiar. Safe.
I approach the door and reach for the handle. And then inhale.
His scent stops me cold.
My wolf howls in desperate recognition. Not the distant awareness I’ve been fighting for two days. This is immediate. Concentrated. Right on the other side of this door.
He’s here.
My hand freezes halfway to the handle. Every logical thought says turn around. Walk away. Go back to my quarters and wait until he’s gone. Viktor’s order wasn’t a restriction on my movement, but it was clear about intent: stay away from Jericho until the Council determines his reliability, and my judgment regarding him can be trusted.
Dammit, Nadia. Leave!
I open the door.
The training facility is dimly lit—emergency lighting only, the kind that creates more shadows than illumination. One person inside.
Jericho.
He’s working a heavy bag in the far corner. Shirtless. Sweat gleaming on skin that looks almost golden in the low light. Each strike is controlled violence—fists connecting with precise force, the bag swinging with impact, his body moving with the kind of fluid economy that comes from centuries of practice.
I can see every detail from here. Biceps flexing and bunching with each strike. The defined muscles of his back moving smoothly beneath his skin. The scars that mark him—some straight and clean like blade cuts, others rougher, possibly burns or claw marks. His shoulders are broad and powerful. His arms corded with muscle. His lower back disappears into workout pants that hang low on his hips.
He’s beautiful in the way most killers are beautiful. Dangerous and lethal and absolutely overwhelming.
The smell of him fills the space. Not just dragonfire anymore—this is pheromones thickened by exertion, male and heat. Primal in a way that makes my mouth water and my wolf claw at my ribs with frantic need.
He stops mid-strike. Goes completely still. Then turns.
His eyes find mine across the room. Pale gray in the dim light. Startled. Wary. He opens his mouth—
My wolf doesn’t wait for words.
She doesn’t surge. She explodes outward with such force that conscious thought simply ceases to exist. One moment, I’m standing in the doorway with some fragment of control. The next thing is that there’s nothing but wolf and overwhelming need and the absolute certainty that my mate is right there and I have to claim him now.
I cross the distance between us. Don’t remember the steps. Don’t remember deciding to move. Just suddenly I’m there, hands fisting in his sweat-damp hair, pulling his mouth down to mine.
God, he’s tall. So tall. So big…
My wolf wants to rub against him and get his scent all over us.
He tries to speak against my lips. “Nadia, wait—”
I don’t let him finish. Just kiss him with all the desperate hunger that’s been building between us. My wolf is in complete control, and she knows exactly what she wants.
