CLAUDE THREE DAYS. Three fucking days. My heat had taken hold of me, and Nikolai had been my anchor through every second of it. The heat, the sweat, the insatiable need—he had taken it all, consumed it, and matched me at every turn. A choked moan escaped my lips, and Nikolai swallowed it, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as his fingers worked my entrance with practiced precision. My hand shot out, gripping his ass, pulling him closer as if I could drag every inch of him into me. “Fuck,” I gasped, my head tilting back as his mouth found my jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he sucked, hard enough to leave a mark. He pulled back slightly, his lips swollen, his dark eyes hooded with lust as he looked down at me. The way he sprawled beside me, his body glistening with sweat, his cock rigid and pressed against my thigh, was enough to make my breath hitch. “You good?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly, but his fingers never stopped their teasing. “Yes,” I w
NIKOLAICLAUDE WAS SPRAWLED across the bed, limbs slack, lips slightly parted. He’d passed out after three days of pure hedonism, and I couldn’t blame him. Even my stamina had its limits. “Claude,” I murmured, brushing my knuckles over his jaw before giving his shoulder a nudge. He groaned, stirring sluggishly before his eyes cracked open—those haunting eyes, slit and feral before they softened into something resembling humanity. Even now, I hadn’t decided if I hated or loved how those eyes unsettled me. But I had bigger concerns. “Who did this to you?” My voice was low, deceptively calm. He blinked up at me, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nikolai,” he rasped, pulling me closer, his arms wrapping around my neck. Instinct took over, my hands finding the heat of his skin, the press of his back beneath my palms as I dragged him against me. I kissed the sharp edge of his jaw, my teeth grazing his skin hard enough to leave a mark—a warning for
CLAUDEThe bathroom was still warm, steam curling up toward the ceiling as I wiped the fog from the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, neck and jaw covered in hickeys and bruises that ran down to my collarbone. I leaned in closer, my fingers brushing over one of the darker marks, and something tightened in my chest. They’d fade in a day or two—I knew that—but the idea of them disappearing made my throat dry. The towel around my waist was still damp as I turned away from the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom. The bedroom felt colder without Nikolai in it, the bed still rumpled, his scent faintly clinging to the sheets. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in the shower, but the stillness was nerve wracking. I’d just pulled on a fresh shirt when the door beeped, and Nikolai walked in. The smell hit me first. Food. My stomach growled, but beneath that was something sharper, something that made me freeze mid-step. Blood.And something else. Him. Antonio. The bag in Nik
CLAUDEOur time was up. It was as simple as that. The words didn’t make it any easier. No. What I wanted, what I had always wanted, was Nikolai. Even though we barely knew each other. Even though we were on opposite sides of the world, with lives that could never truly align.My fingers gripped my bag tighter, my pulse picking up as I felt Nikolai beside me. I didn’t dare look at him—not yet. “The money’s been wired to your account,” he said, his voice low, sending a shiver down my spine. The heat of his breath brushed my neck, even as the sharp sting of the ocean wind battered us both.The account he spoke of wasn’t mine. The money wasn’t even going to me. It was going to the real Tate, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.The deck was alive with people, eager to get off the ship, to escape to wherever they were going. But me? I wanted more time. A little more of this, whatever it was.Nikolai’s voice cut through the buzz, low and amused. “What’s going through t
NIKOLAIIt didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d been kidnapped. This wasn’t some random terrorist attack. No, this was planned, deliberate. My head throbbed, a sharp ache that pulsed behind my eyes as I forced myself upright. The room was dark, the only light coming from the weak flicker of a bulb above. It wasn’t enough to see much, but it was enough to hear—to feel. Someone was here with me.The groan came low and ragged, dragging my attention to the far side of the room. My chest tightened. Claude had been with me during the shootout, shielding me when he shouldn’t have. But that didn’t mean the figure slumped in the shadows was him.“Claude?” My voice was rough, edged with suspicion.The unmistakable groan of pain answered that question, and I scrambled toward the voice. My hands found him—his body slack against the floor—and I turned him onto his back. “Fuck, Claude.” The words fell from my lips as my gaze dropped to the stain spreading across his shirtI crawled toward him, my
CLAUDEFuck.That was the first thing that ripped through my head as I came to, groaning like I’d been hit by a freight train. My eyes blinked open, unfocused, until I caught sight of him—Nikolai.His lap was my goddamn pillow, his hands steady on my shoulders. And those eyes—sharp and steady—locked on mine before his lips twitched into that lazy, lopsided smile of his.“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he murmured, like I’d just woken up from a nap instead of—I groaned, trying to shift, but my body felt heavy, like my limbs didn’t belong to me. “Where are we?” My words came out rough, my throat raw.When I tried to sit up, Nikolai’s hands pressed me back down. “Don’t,” he said, his tone low. “You got shot, Claude. Pretty fucking badly, I might add.”I looked down. My chest was bare, bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, blood seeping through faintly. Not silver, though. I’d heal. A couple of days, tops.“And,” Nikolai continued, like he was delivering a punchline, a chuc
NIKOLAII WANTED TO put a bullet through her skull. The thought burned bright, searing through every rational part of me.But it was Claude’s unsteady steps that dragged my attention. He limped back towards me, his movements sluggish, and I was on my feet before I could think twice.“Christ,” I muttered, catching him as he stumbled. I pulled him flush against me, feeling the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body sagged.Guiding him to the wall, I eased him down until he was sitting. His skin was pale, his breathing uneven.“You’re pushing too hard, Claude.” My voice came out low, softer than I intended, and I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “You need to rest.”He didn’t argue, his head leaning back against the wall, his expression tight with pain. My eyes dropped to his stomach, fabric of the bandage darkened with dried blood, and let out a low breath of relief. Thank Christ they weren’t bleeding anymore.“That girl,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “she was with Antonio, wasn’t
CLAUDEI COULDN’T SETTLE.Not since I woke up to find the bed empty. Not since Nikolai had been ripped away from me. The pain in my leg was the least of my worries now, because the world felt wrong without him. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, my heart hammering in my chest as I thought about the worst.What if he was gone?The thought tightened my throat, my pulse spiking with panic.What if I never saw him again?I couldn’t breathe at the thought.Then, the door creaked open. Footsteps, heavy and uneven. My senses were flooded with blood before I saw him. The metallic tang hit my nose like a punch, and there he was—Nikolai, shoved inside, collapsing before I could think. I lunged, catching him just before his body hit the ground. The door slammed shut behind him, the loud noise ringing in my ears.“Nikolai,” I whispered, guiding him to the wall, my arm hooked under his, my palm pressing against the heat of his ribs.He groaned, sinking down until he was seated, head lolling back agai
CLAUDEI PRESSED MY palm flat against my tie, smoothing out invisible wrinkles as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My own eyes looked foreign—empty, like I’d already been hollowed out.A sigh slipped from my lips. Too quiet. Too weak. I clenched my jaw, forcing my expression into something passable before turning away to my nightstand. My fingers curled around the drawer handle pulling open the drawer.Lupenol. The small, familiar bottle sat at the top, right where I’d left it. I picked it up, rolling it between my fingers before twisting the cap off.It wasn’t real medicine—not even registered. Just something my father forced on me, a chemical solution to my problem. The first time I’d asked where they came from, I was nine. He’d ignored me. By the time I was twelve, I’d stopped asking altogether.Now, I just swallowed.The pills hit the back of my throat, bitter as always. I didn’t bother chasing them with water, just shoved the bottle back into the drawer and slammed it sh
CLAUDE I COULD TELL something was wrong the moment they told me to step out of the car. The way they moved, the way they avoided my gaze—it was all wrong.You’re being detained. Shit.So here I was, pacing in a small, dimly lit room, waiting for something to happen, and I knew exactly what that something would be—my father.My jaw clenched as I turned to the two men standing guard. "Why are you holding me here when I should be on my way back to my pack?" My voice came out sharp, a growl filled with frustration.They exchanged a glance before one of them finally spoke. "You’ve been reported missing—"My heart dropped."By the Alpha of Rising Moon Pack."Of course.I dragged a hand over my face, trying to keep calm. With what had happened the last time, of course he would be worried, but I didn’t think he would actually report me missing. Not when he was the kind of man who preferred handling things alone.I didn’t know how long I sat there, pacing, waiting, feeling the minutes stretc
CLAUDE“YOU CAN LEAVE.”The words didn’t make sense.I blinked at Nikolai from where I sat on the bed, my head still hazy, heavy, like I’d been drowning in a dream for too long. My body felt sluggish, my limbs heavy by sleep that shouldn’t have lasted this long. Even when I looked out the window, the sky was dark. A full day—I’d slept for a full day.But that wasn’t what made my chest go tight.It wasn’t the exhaustion, the disorientation.It was him.Standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, looking around his own bedroom like he was seeing it for the first time. Like he didn’t recognize it. Like he didn’t recognize me.“Nikolai…” My voice was hoarse, my throat tight. “Why?”I shouldn’t have asked. I should have just taken my chance, grabbed my things, and gone. I’d been telling him that I needed to leave. That I had to leave. Go back to my pack, to my family.But I never thought he’d let me go.Not like this.Not when just last night, he had held me so tight, his breath warm ag
NIKOLAIMY FINGERS CURLED around the gun before I was even fully awake, instincts kicking in before reason as I forced myself through the last haze of sleep. Something was off. Someone was too close. Watching.I sat up fast, muscles tight, gun already aimed, my finger poised over the trigger—ready to put a bullet between their eyes—until I saw who it was.Boris. My grip tightened, jaw locking as I breathed through the sharp rush of adrenaline. I didn’t lower the gun. I could still pull the trigger. I wanted to. “Now, now, Nikolai.” His voice was too smooth, too fucking amused for someone who had just walked into my bedroom uninvited. “Don’t tell me you plan on shooting your own Batya.”The light flicked on, too bright, too harsh, and I swore under my breath, dragging a hand over my face as I adjusted to it. He was smiling. That slow, knowing smirk that made my skin crawl.I reached for the sheets without looking, pulling them up over Claude’s back, covering him before he could wake
NIKOLAI HE WANTED TO to leave.The thought circled in my head over and fucking over until it sank into my bones, twisting through me like a sickness, a goddamn obsession. All I could think about was tying him down, chaining him to the fucking bedpost if that’s what it took to keep him here.I yanked at my tie, pulling the damn thing loose until it slipped from my fingers, landing somewhere on the floor.He wasn’t leaving. I wouldn’t fucking let him. Not when I had finally accepted—finally fucking accepted—that I wanted him.My hand twitched at my cheek, my jaw tight, my chest aching with the need to own him, to make him mine, to fucking possess him. The thought had me exhaling sharply, shaking my head, because for the first time, I wasn’t sure who the real animal was between us.“Pakhan?”Andrei’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I hadn’t even noticed when he walked in.I lifted my gaze to him, my expression sharp. “What the fuck happened to your face?”His hand twitched, like h
CLAUDEHe didn’t even tell me when he left.I had still been in bed when a knock sounded at the door. The sound dragged me from sleep, and when I reached across the mattress, my hand met nothing but cold sheets.The space next to me was empty.I should have known then.When I opened the door, a man dressed in all black stood there, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed anywhere but on me.“Boss said I should tell you he won’t be back soon.”Soon. That was four days ago.My stomach twisted, a slow, twisting ache forming in the pit of my gut because the last time he left, he came back with two bullet wounds.I didn’t want to see that again.I didn’t want to sit here, waiting, suffocating in this house while my mind ran in circles, wondering if this was the time he wouldn’t make it back.The house was full of people, but it still felt empty. Hollow. Cold in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. And I knew—I knew—it was because I wasn’t really part of this world.I didn’t try to tal
CLAUDEIT STILL FELT weird, being able to walk around the house so freely. But now… now I knew where the dining room was. Hell, I could smell it—the rich, savory aroma filling the air, making my stomach clench.But that wasn’t what had my chest squeezing.No, it was him. He had seen me—had looked at what I was—and instead of disgust, he had laughed. Had reached out, tapped my head, stroked my fur. And gods, it made my heart stuttered because it mattered.I stepped into the dining room, and Nikolai was already there, dressed in a fitted white T-shirt and dark suit trousers. Simple, effortless, but somehow he still looked like he belonged on a throne. His eyes found mine as I moved closer, the corner of his lips tugging up like he was amused by something.Then, his gaze dragged over me. Slow. Thorough.A low hum vibrated in his throat before he reached for the chair beside him, pulling it out for me.And gods—something inside me burst at that.I sat, my eyes flicking to the six men sta
NIKOLAITHE SOUND OF birds chirping was what woke me up. Soft. Unassuming. Completely out of place in my fucking world.A low groan rumbled from my throat as I shifted, only to realize something heavy was pressed against me—someone. Their head rested in the crook of my neck, the weight familiar and welcoming.Claude.I exhaled through my nose, my eyes locking onto his face. Even now, even in sleep, he looked like something I shouldn’t fucking touch. Something sharp and fragile at the same time, something that could cut me open if I wasn’t careful.Not that it mattered. I wasn’t careful. Never had been.And no matter how many times I thought about it, no matter how I turned it over in my head, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that werewolves were real. That he was real. That every goddamn thing I had ever believed about this world had been a lie.It fucked with me. Made me question everything. Made me run from him when I should have just accepted what was in front of me.H
CLAUDE NO ONE STOPPED me when I left the room.No one questioned me when I wandered through the massive house, and no one tried to keep me from moving freely. If anything, they moved when they saw me, their dark eyes flicking away, their shoulders stiffening.Those men dressed in black, all carrying weapons.It only made one thing clearer—I had been wrong about Nikolai. Again.It had been three days.Three days of roaming through endless hallways, searching for him in every corner, following my nose, trying to scent him out. But it was impossible.He was hiding from me. Deliberately ignoring me.And for the past three days, I’d been fed like a starved man. The maid bringing in meals three times a day, plates stacked with enough food to feed four men, but I barely touched any of it.Not when my mind was consumed with him.The door creaked and my ears twitched at the sound, my body tensing, instinct bracing for an attack—until his scent hit me.I didn’t move. Didn’t turn. Didn’t want t