12
RAPHAEL
I didn’t change the sheets.
I had meant to.Told myself I would before Alice saw them and made that knowing face she had been making since Lena moved in.But when I reached for the corner of the fitted sheet, my hand stopped.Refused.
Her scent was everywhere.Apples and cream and a darker note now that smelled like anger and want and the salt of her skin after I had made her come twice on my desk before carrying her to this bed.My wolf had gone still the moment I breathed it in, a rumble of satisfaction rolling through my chest that I couldn’t have stopped if I had wanted to.
She came to us.The pain of not claiming her had quieted, just for those hours.The ache receding while she was in my arms, while her body moved against mine, while I could pretend this meant something more than anger finding an outlet.
Not because I had demanded it.Not because the contract required it.She had walked into my study with fury in her eyes and fire in her voice and she had taken what she needed from me like I was hers to use.
I looked at my back in the bathroom mirror.Four lines scored across my shoulder blade where her nails had dug in when she came the last time.The marks had already healed, fresh pink skin where the scratches had been just hours ago.Shifter regeneration.By tomorrow they’d be gone entirely.
I wished they’d scar.
Alice found me in the kitchen, dressed but still carrying the warmth of those memories like a secret I wasn’t ready to share.She set a cup of coffee in front of me without being asked, her movements efficient and familiar.
“You look different this morning,” she said.
I didn’t answer.Didn’t need to.Alice had known me since I was a child hiding in the sculpture garden, crying over a mother who would never come back.She had known me through the cruelty I had learned from a grandfather who only ever saw me as a weapon.She knew what this was.
“She came home an hour before you woke.”Alice wiped the counter that didn’t need wiping.“Went straight to her room.Hasn’t come out.”
I nodded, wrapping my hands around the mug.The coffee was exactly how I liked it.Strong enough to strip paint, black, no sugar.Twenty years of mornings and Alice had never forgotten.
“Give her space,” Alice added, though I hadn’t asked for advice.“Whatever happened last night, she needs to process it on her own terms.”
I knew that.God, I knew that better than anyone.She had flinched when I had tried to touch her face after.That gentle brush of my fingers across her cheek, meant to be tender, and she had recoiled like I had burned her.
Don’t.
One word.That was all she had given me before she pulled her clothes on and walked out.
But she had come to me.She had chosen me over everyone else when she was afraid.My wolf purred at the memory, a deep vibration in my chest that had nothing to do with sound and everything to do with the bone-deep satisfaction of having my mate in my arms, even if she had left before the sun rose.
My phone buzzed, shattering the quiet.Petrov.
“Overnight report,” his voice came through, clipped and professional.“The hotel was quiet.But we picked up Bishop again.”
I set down the coffee.“Where?”
“Staff entrance.Around two in the morning.One of the cooks spotted him trying the door, called it in.He was gone before we could intercept.”
Joe fucking Bishop.The ex-boyfriend who had been circling Lena like a vulture since the wedding announcement hit the papers.
“He’s escalating,” Petrov continued.“This is the third time this week.Taking photos.Trying access points.It’s stalker behavior, sir.”
My wolf rumbled low, territorial instincts firing.Another threat to what was mine.Another insect buzzing around her, thinking he had any right to be close to her.
“Keep tracking him.I’ll deal with him personally when this murder investigation settles.”
“Understood.”
I hung up and stared at the phone for a long moment.Joe was a problem, but a secondary one.He was pathetic and obsessive but ultimately harmless compared to whoever had been terrorizing the hotel with dead animals and heating sabotage and blood in the fountain.
The call came two hours later.
