Faint, but unmistakable.
Warm spices and wildflowers, with that sharp undercurrent of Alpha musk.
F*ck.
I gripped the doorframe, inhaling before I could stop myself.
Madness. Absolute madness.
My c*ck hardened instantly, twitching with painful urgency as I breathed him in again like an addict. What the hell was happening to me?
“Goddess…” I whispered, shaking my head. “What did he do to me?”
Just his scent. That was all it took. He wasn’t even here, and I was already losing it.
Growling under my breath, I stepped under the spray and turned the handle all the way to cold. Ice water slammed into me like a punishment.
Didn’t help.
Not even a little.
I cursed again and slammed my palm against the tile. Cold wasn’t cutting it.
There were two options: suffer, or handle it.
The second option sounded a hell of a lot better. Might even help me make it through the damn day without punching someone. Or Kai. Or worse-f*cking him against the nearest surface.
My hand moved down, wrapping around my aching c*ck. The first stroke was rough, impatient. No tenderness. Just need.
I tried to picture the girl from my dream.
Golden eyes. Long blonde hair. Plush lips parting in a soft moan. Her curves spilling beneath me as I took her how I wanted. No rules. No shame.
But those eyes…
They weren’t hers, were they?
No. They were his.
Always his.
My strokes slowed, deepened. I leaned into the fantasy, let it wash over me like the steam that now replaced the cold water. In my mind, it was Kai on his knees. Golden eyes wide and defiant. Mouth open. Hands gripping my thighs like he hated needing me.
Like he wanted to bite and beg all at once.
My hips jerked forward, breath catching.
F*ck.
I wasn’t picturing the girl anymore. Hadn’t been for a while.
It was Kai now.
Bent over the sink.
Wrists pinned.
That perfect ass pushing back, ready to take every inch I gave him.
Goddess-
I came hard, groaning his name before I could stop myself, bracing against the tile as my release hit like a f*cking train.
The aftermath was worse.
Cold again. Empty.
I let the water wash it all away, head bowed, jaw clenched.
This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t me.
And if anyone found out?
I was screwed.
But for now, at least, I could breathe. And pretend I was still in control.
KAI POV
Breakfast was rushed, chaotic. Too many bodies, too much noise.
I kept my head down, inhaled black coffee, bacon, eggs, and a slice of toast so quickly I almost choked. I sat at the edge of the long table, pretending to text while I ate, giving off the universal signal of ‘leave me the f*ck alone.’
Well-okay, I was texting, to my mom.
Just not the entire time.
> *All fine. Nothing to worry about. Roommates are cool. I feel like it’s going to go smoothly.*
> – K
I hit send before I could reread it. Before I could second guess it.
Liar.
I was lying through my teeth. Everything wasn’t fine. Not even close.
But my mother didn’t need to know that. She had enough on her plate running our pack. And the last thing I needed was for her to rally the full cavalry-three overly-protective ex-warrior dads and four lunatic brothers who thought violence was a love language.
No.
This was my mission. My lie. My secret.
And I could handle it.
I dropped my empty mug into the bin and slipped out of the dining hall just as more students poured in, talking too loud, showing off too much. Testosterone and bravado clouded the air like smoke. I kept my head down and my hoodie up, moving like a shadow through the corridors toward the training center.
Today was assessment day.
Sparring.
My specialty. My curse.
I wasn’t afraid of fighting-gods, no. I *liked* fighting. I liked knowing where to place my weight, how to strike, when to feint. I liked the precision of it, the rhythm.
But I wasn’t allowed to win. Not too much. Not too well.
People noticed excellence. Especially when it came from someone they thought was a small, soft-spoken “alpha boy” from some obscure northern pack. And I couldn’t afford to stand out. Not here. Not yet.
Especially not in front of him.
Derrick.
Just thinking about the way he’d pinned my wrists above my head a couple of hours ago-how hot that had been-made my stomach twist.
I did not need to be attracted to that jackass.
And definitely not to Dalton, either.
Both of them were dangerous-for me, and for my stupid heart.
I reached the training center, my heartbeat thudding a little harder than it should’ve.
The walls were high and reinforced, with glass panels looking down from the observation deck where instructors would soon be watching. The scent of sweat, leather, and disinfectant hit me like a memory.
I found my cubby, stashed my hoodie, and changed quickly into regulation black workout gear-loose tank, compression pants, wraps for my wrists. The fabric clung in all the right places, unfortunately, but I layered the tank low and bound tightly beneath it. I double-checked my bandages.
Still flat.
Still invisible.
Good.
The locker room was already noisy. Jokes, insults, boys posturing in front of the mirrors, comparing scars like trophies. I kept my eyes low, tuning them out. But I could feel some of them noticing me. Just little flickers. A glance too long. A silence too pointed.
Whatever. Let them look.
I stepped into the main gym just as the instructor-a hulking, graying Beta named Norrix-blew his whistle.
“Line up!”
Dozens of bodies moved at once. I filed in silently, eyes forward.
“Today is your first field assessment,” Norrix barked. “Sparring will be two minutes, or until submission. No biting, no claws, and if you shift, you’re out for the week.”
Some groaned at that.
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