The room felt too small.
Too warm.
Too full of him.
Nine's scent wrapped around me like smoke, like silk threaded through flame — thick, sweet, heavy with instinct and submission and something softer that made Nyx claw at the inside of my ribs like she was ready to tear out of me.
My wolf wasn't calm anymore.
She was feral.
Every time Nine shifted on the mat, every time his eyes glanced toward me with that quiet, patient need, Nyx surged forward in my head like she might snap my spine just to get to him faster.
Touch him. Bite him. Claim him now.
"No," I hissed under my breath, not for him — for her.
My fingers curled into my palms until my nails bit deep.
Nine tilted his head.
Not confused.
Not exactly.
Just watching.
His scent flared again, and I caught the new note: hope.
It made my mouth water.
It made Nyx howl.
We need to leave, I told myself.
Now.
Before I crossed a line I couldn't come back from.
I stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool.
Nine blinked at me.
I didn't speak.
Didn't look back.
I just walked out.
Fast.
The moment the door slid shut behind me, I braced both hands on the cold marble wall and sucked in air like I'd been drowning.
Nyx was pacing, furious. You left him. Why did you leave him? He's ours—
He's not ready, I snapped back.
He wants us!
I didn't respond.
Because that was the worst part.
He did.
Not fully. Not with understanding. But with instinct. With that pure, unguarded part of him that had never been allowed to bloom until now.
He reached for me today — not with his hands, but with his scent. With his eyes. With the quiet plea of someone who had never had permission to ask for anything before.
And I?
I ran.
I locked myself in my quarters for the rest of the evening.
Sat on the floor with the lights dimmed, heart still racing, skin still buzzing with the memory of his scent on mine.
No matter how far I tried to push it out of my head, it crept back in.
His voice when he whispered my name.
His head tilting to the side like he didn't know why he needed me, only that he did.
The way he didn't want the instructor to touch him — but let me kneel close, let me brush my hand near his neck.
Ours, Nyx said again, softer this time. He just doesn't know it yet.
I didn't sleep.
Didn't move from the floor.
Didn't even bother to shower.
And when the knock came at my door the next morning, I knew before I answered who it was.
The boss didn't wait for greetings.
He didn't even look up from the datapad in his hand as he spoke.
"We need to discuss the shipment."
I didn't move from the doorway.
"What about it?"
He looked up then — eyes sharp, cold, and full of quiet calculation. "You were off-schedule. Routed through three unauthorized zones. We lost tracking for over twenty hours."
"You still got your crate."
He smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
"No one's accusing you of theft, Rhea. But I do like to know what happens to my property. Especially when people start asking questions about what was inside."
I didn't breathe.
Because that meant someone knew.
Or suspected.
And the boss?
He wasn't the type to let that go unanswered.