I shoved my arm away, disgusted by the heat rolling through me and the whisper of want curling under my ribs.
Dragging my open laptop onto my lap, I forced myself to focus. To rememberwhoshe was.A criminal. A killer. A damn supe.
The files didn’t soften the image. Photos of bodies. Reports of fights she’d won with brutal efficiency. A demon flayed open for disrespecting her sister. A werewolf left broken after crossing her. Every word painted her as untouchable, terrifying.
When I thought back to the fight we’d had, I could still see it. The dangerous spark behind her eyes, the precision in every strike that allowed her to take down her opponent swiftly and without mercy. The beast inside me stirred,admiringher, recognizing something that mirrored itself.
Mate strong. Perfect.
My jaw tightened, but I couldn’t disagree. Shewasstrong.
That thought, that memory, it bled into another. Her body pressed to mine. Those sculpted thighs parting for me, that toned back bending against my chest. Just picturing that powerful body beneath me, writhing in pleasure from what I was doing to her, made blood rush to my dick.
But that wasn't what I wanted. No. That was what the beast inside me wanted.
What I wanted was someone like my ex, Faith. Soft. Sweet. Someone who needed protection, who needed me to feel safe and secure. That was the kind of woman I wanted by my side… right?
Why couldn’t I remember her face anymore? Why couldn’t I recall the sound of her voice or the scent of her hair? My memoryof Faith was disappearing like she’d never existed, replaced with a set of jewel-toned pink eyes and a wicked smile.
I closed my eyes, trying to think about and feel what my life had been like before I’d been turned, but it was slowly slipping away from me like sand through my fingers.
Maybe it wasn’t memory loss. Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe the man I’d been wasn’t disappearing but being replaced by him, the beast. This thing that called Novamate.
A buzz sliced through the silence of the apartment, and I glanced around, looking for my phone. As soon as I saw the screen and who the message was from, my body went still.
For a heartbeat, I didn’t breathe—Nova.
It was short, simply asking about the suit she sent. Just a simple text, nothing special, but it was her. Her words. Her attention. My pulse kicked hard against my chest.
My eyes drifted to the bed where the suit laid stretched out like a promise, sharp, tailored, and expensive as hell. A piece of her world sent straight into mine.
I told myself I should ignore it. Hell, a part of me wanted to rip it in half, to tear the damn thing apart and send it back. I needed to prove that she didn’t have any kind of pull over me. She was a criminal, the enemy, and my mission. She was everything I was supposed to destroy.
But the thought of her eyes sliding over me while I worehergift made something inside me purr. I could almost see it, those cool, assessing eyes flicking down my chest, the corner of her mouth curving in that quiet, dangerous satisfaction. The idea of hergaze lingering on me, ofwantingme, hit harder than I wanted to admit.
Why the fuck did I want that? Why did I care what she thought?
Yet, I found myself moving before I could stop. Standing. Picking up the hanger. Holding the suit against me like a fool. I snapped a picture and sent it off, fingers hovering over the screen even though my brain screameddon’t.
Too late.
Her reply came fast. A smiling emoji, then a flushed, hot-faced one. My lips twitched before I could stop them.
A gangster, a goddamn crime boss, was texting me smiley faces.
It should’ve been ridiculous. Instead, it made my chest feel tight, and the room got hot.
By the time I’d forced myself into the suit, I felt like someone else, someone sleeker, more dangerous—her world’s version of me. The fabric clung perfectly, moving over my body like magic. I caught my reflection in the mirror and hesitated.
I looked likeher type. The realization shot spikes of thrill through me even as I told myself it shouldn’t.
When I stepped outside, a black car was idling at the curb. Of course, she’d send one. Of course, she’d orchestrate every detail.
The door swung open, and my pulse jumped. Did she come to pick me up? Was that why she wanted to see me in my suit?
When a head of blond hair popped out instead of a mane of white, my stomach dropped, and I scowled.
