"I'd prefer to stay with you, if that's okay." Her voice carried a vulnerability he hadn't heard before. "I already feel completely out of place here."
The admission sent a wave of protective satisfaction through his chest. His mate wanted to stay close to him, and wanted the comfort of their connection in an unfamiliar environment. Nothing could have pleased his tiger more.
"Of course," he said, unable to keep the smile from his voice. "This way."
His own bedroom was down the hall, and the moment Riley stepped inside, her posture relaxed slightly. The space reflected his personality more accurately—clean lines and practical furniture, but rich colors that spoke of strength and status. Deep burgundy curtains, dark wood, and touches of gold that caught the light. A room that belonged to a leader, but one who valued substance over show.
"This feels more like you," she said, running her fingers along the edge of his dresser.
Adrian set her suitcase down near the walk-in closet, hyperaware of how right she looked in his private space. "We should get some rest. It's been..." He trailed off, not sure how to summarize a night that had redefined everything.
"A long night," Riley finished with a tired laugh. "Between the training and the sex and the attack, and all of... this."
They undressed with careful efficiency, both exhausted and still processing the magnitude of what had happened betweenthem. When Riley slipped beneath his sheets wearing nothing, Adrian felt something fundamental settle into place.
His mate, in his bed, safe under his protection.
She curled against his side naturally, as if they'd been sharing a bed for years instead of minutes. Her head found the hollow of his shoulder, and her hand splayed across his chest directly over his heart.
"Adrian?" Her voice was soft, already drowsy.
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For protecting me tonight. For bringing me somewhere safe."
The simple gratitude in her words made his throat tighten. "Always," he murmured against her hair. "I'll always protect you and keep you safe."
Through the bond, he felt her acceptance of that truth and her growing trust in what was building between them. As her breathing deepened and sleep claimed her, Adrian allowed himself to truly relax for the first time in hours.
His mate was safe and exactly where she belonged.
For the first time since his father's death, sleep came easily.
Dawn light filtered through the windows of Adrian's bedroom, casting golden streaks across rumpled sheets that still held the lingering warmth of two bodies. His arm stretched automatically across the mattress, seeking the soft curves and silken skin that had pressed against him through the night. Instead, his fingers met only cool cotton and empty space.
Panic shot through his chest like lightning—sharp, immediate, and completely irrational. His tiger surged, territorial instincts roaring to life as he bolted upright, scanning the room with predatory intensity.
Where is she?
Then he turned his head and exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. Riley sat curled in the leather armchair beside thewindows, already dressed in fresh black leggings and a fitted tank top that showcased the muscle definition of her arms. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she gazed out at the estate grounds with quiet appreciation, watching the morning mist rise from manicured lawns that stretched toward ancient oak groves.
Even from across the room, she looked like she belonged there—strong and self-assured against the backdrop of his legacy. The sight sent satisfaction humming through the bond between them, warm and steady.
"You're up early," he said, his voice roughened with sleep and lingering traces of territorial concern.
Riley glanced over with a smile that made something in his chest tighten pleasantly. "I'm an early riser. Force of habit from years of training schedules and competition prep."
Adrian swung his legs over the side of the bed, studying her profile as she returned her attention to the view. Her disciplined routine, her commitment to structure and excellence—it mirrored his own approach to life with startling accuracy. Most women he'd dated found his rigid schedule suffocating or his dedication to perfection intimidating. Riley embraced those same values naturally.
Too much like me,he thought with growing appreciation.
Their compatibility ran deeper than physical attraction or supernatural bonds. They were both creatures of discipline and routine, forged by years of pushing their bodies and minds toward peak performance. She understood the drive that consumed him because the same fire burned in her.
"Well then," he said, rising from the bed and noting how her eyes darkened slightly as they tracked the movement of his naked form, "we should get to training. We only have today before the first round tomorrow."
Her gaze lingered on the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen before she met his eyes again. "That's a good plan."
The heat in her expression made his blood surge south, and he had to resist the overwhelming urge to cross the room, lift her from that chair, and carry her back to his bed. To spend the entire day exploring every inch of her body, learning what made her gasp and moan, shutting out the world and the competition and everything else that demanded their attention.
