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Savvine tossed and turned most of the night, her sheets tangled by dawn.

Despite the luxurious bedding and mild temperature, her mind wouldn’t shut down.

Each time she closed her eyes, Xander’s voice returned, timbred and teasing, brushing over her skin like a breeze.

His quiet strength, his care, and how his eyes tracked her when he wined and dined her the night before by the lake.

Worse was her physical reaction to him, the way her clit pulsed and throbbed around him.

It was maddening and confusing asfokk, given his forbidden nature.

Still, she was no follower of rules either, and for a moment, she wondered what making love to him, in his spectral form, might be like.

The thought only heightened her arousal, and she tossed and turned, cursing at her traitorous body.

When she did drift off, it was shallow and unsatisfying, and she woke groggy and crabby, hair wild, bedclothes mussed, jaw tight, every muscle aching with unrest.

A chime cut through her fitful doze.

The front door?

She woke, slid from bed with a mutter, found her robe in her luggage, and threw it on.

The second she opened her cabin door, her mood shifted.

A breakfast tray waited on a table beside the entryway.

On it were still-warm toast slices, curled butter pats, a bowl of mixed fruit dusted with crushed nuts, cutlery, and a steaming teapot with a milk jug.

A note in a bold, slanted script sat tucked under the handle:

‘Didn’t want you hangry. Eat first. Then take the flyer, it’s waiting. - X’

She chuckled, glanced up, and spotted the craft, hovering in the leaf-lined glade nearby.

Her irritation dissolved as Xander’s consideration cut through her sleep deprivation.

She brought the tray inside and ate at the kitchen table, standing up, a piece of toast in one hand and tea in the other.

Her comm tab vibrated, and she leaned over it, sliding the screen to accept the holo call.

Abby’s face appeared before her.

‘Hey, woman. Still alive in the wolves’ den?’

Abby had no idea just how accurate her statement was.

‘Just about,’ Savvine huffed. ‘What’s up?’

Abby’s expression bordered on sheepish. ‘So, about that intel where I might have thought Signet and the Lombardis were in cahoots? Well, I just discovered the Lombardi contact the Signet strong guard met with was feeding intel about his people to the company. He’s working against the Lombardis.’

‘A snitch?’

‘A CI.’

‘Same thing. You know this, how?’

‘I did some digging. Tomas, the said informant, is a former Signet convict. I found payments in his bank account corresponding to sudden Signet raids and captures on Lombardi operations. Also, the package he passed on? I intercepted his messages and confirmed that it was a cake his mum made for his Signet handler.’