She pulls me into a hug. “I know this must be difficult, Anne. But I’m so proud of you for taking this step. You deserve to be happy.”
I hug her back and hold on for a bit. She’s right: I do deserve to be happy. At the very least, I deserve to try to be. And maybe this, maybe David, is my way of trying.
But as we pull apart, I turn slightly, and my gaze catches a movement down the hall.
Kain.
He’s standing near the door to the break room, far enough away that I can’t see his expression clearly but close enough that the angle suggests he’s looking in my direction. At me. At the roses on my desk.
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second. His gaze feels like a fire blazing through me. My wolf whines at the sight, pleading for him, begging for him.
But I force myself to look away and turn my attention back to Sienna, who’s talking about what I should wear, still excited about this development.
He’s not my Kain anymore.
The thought repeats in my head like a mantra, like if I say it enough times, it’ll stop hurting.
I pick up the roses and find a spot for them where I can see them while I work, a visual reminder of forward motion, of trying, of maybe someday feeling something for someone else. Sienna eventually leaves for her own desk, and I settle into my chair, boot up my computer, and try to focus on work.
But my eyes keep drifting to the roses: deep red, beautiful, from a man who wants me. And every time they do, I see Kain. Standing in that hallway. Watching me with those burning eyes.
My wolf whimpers once more, a sound of mourning now.
I ignore her and look at the roses again. At the card. At the promise of moving forward, even if every part of me is screaming to run backward.
Thursday, I’ll go on that date. I’ll smile and laugh and try to feel something—anything—for David.
And maybe, if I pretend long enough, the pretending will become real.
Maybe.
Chapter Nine
Kain
Roses???
Who the hell got her roses?
I’m back in my office, but my feet haven’t stopped moving since I stood near the entrance of the break room and saw those red petals on her desk. I couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of her there with that bouquet. But she could take her eyes off me; as a matter of fact, she did.
She looked right at me and then immediately away, turning back to those flowers and the woman next to her like I was nothing, like I didn’t exist.
My feet strike the office floor far too hard as I keep going from my desk to the door and back again, the rhythm doing nothing to burn off the energy coiling tighter and tighter in my chest. I can’t stop pacing, and my wolf won’t calm down, clawing at my ribs like he’s trying to tear his way out and go find her, wherever she may be.
I should be focusing on the mission. Maybe I should even be grateful that someone else is getting her attention, pulling her away from me so the organization won’t have reason to watchher more closely. Maybe I should be relieved that she’s moving on, that the distance I forced between us is actually working.
But all I feel is this savage, burning rage that makes my eyes see red and my hands clench into fists.
A knock sounds at my door, but I don’t answer, too caught up in the thoughts spiraling through my head, in the image of those red roses sitting on her desk like a declaration.
The knock comes again, more hesitant this time.
“Come in!” I practically bark.
The door opens slowly, and Anderson steps through, his movements careful, measured, like he’s approaching a wild animal. His eyes are wary as they track my steps around the office, clearly registering the tension that must be radiating off me in waves.
“You asked to see me, sir?” His voice is small, uncertain.
