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Just stood there-dying quietly behind the one-way glass on the landing below her apartment. Breathing through clenched teeth. The bond thrashed in him like a wounded animal, screaming her name. He deserved to suffer this. This agony.

He was still frozen there, fingers digging grooves into the wooden handrail with his claws, when he heard the keypad code for the main foyer being entered. The door creaked open again with a beep and then swung shut with a soft mechanical click. A moment later, the sound of footsteps-light, familiar-echoed through the stairwell.

Hagan moved before he knew he had.

He slipped behind the massive potted plant on the second-floor landing, the shadows swallowing him whole. His back pressed against the cool wall, the scent of soil and dust thick in his nostrils. A whisper of the scent of jasmine. And then-

And then... she was there.

Seren.

In the flesh. Changed and not changed at all. Her face was a little sharper, her body curved with confidence she didn't have before.

Walking up the stairs, her phone held loosely in one hand, her keys in the other. Distracted. Her brow furrowed slightly in thought, her braid swaying like a pendulum down her spine. She didn't hear him. Didn't sense him.

That alone told him how much had changed.

Hagan stayed deathly still, hardly breathing as she passed his hiding spot and moved up the final flight to the third floor. Silent as a shadow, he followed her up to her apartment door. He didn't know what he said, but her slight shoulders stiffened. Her quicksilver eyes were wide as she turned with disbelief written all over her face.

Shock. Recognition. And something like betrayal.

Seren froze, her hand caught the doorframe like she needed something to hold her up. Her hand stayed clenched on the frame, knuckles white. Her eyes-silver like storm light-swept over him, almost unwillingly.

He looked... different. No, not different. Just more.

Older. Broader. The kind of man who turned heads without trying. The faded grey T-shirt he wore stretched tightly over his shoulders, clinging to the hard lines of his chest and upper arms like it resented the effort. Veins ran down his exposed forearms-strong, corded-and the fabric of his pants pulled just enough to reveal how impossibly thick his thighs had gotten. He filled the stairwell like a storm about to break.

He'd always been handsome-unfairly so-but now...

Now his jaw was tighter now, clean-shaven and sharp. His curls were gone-his dark hair trimmed close to his skull, drawing attention to the elegant lines of his face and the pink of his lips. That mouth had once been her undoing, almost out of place beneath the rest of his ruggedness. His eyes-those blue, too-blue eyes-no longer burned with youthful arrogance. They held something softer now. Quieter. Like he'd lived a thousand lives in the time they'd been apart.

Blue. Still so blue. But dulled by something older than time. Grief, maybe. Regret. Hope.

And when he looked at her...

She felt it. A hint of the bond like she hadn't felt in two years.

A warrior now-not the boy who had broken her heart.

His voice was a reverent whisper when it came. "Seren."

She didn't move. Just stared like he might vanish if she blinked.

He stepped forward slowly, carefully, as if she were a spooked animal. He reached out-and his fingertips brushed the soft skin of her bare arm.

The heat between them lit like oil.

Her breath hitched.

And she flinched, as if his touch burned her.

He dropped his hand, the ghost of the contact still sparking through his nerves.

His voice cut through the silence, low and rough-edged. "How've you been?"

For a second, her throat closed up. Her mind couldn't quite compute that he was here, standing in her hallway, smelling like pine and earth and something painfully familiar. The bond had been dulled, muted-but still, something in her chest stirred. His voice was thick, low, almost reverent. His eyes were devouring her-cataloguing the changes. The sharpness in her cheekbones. The curve of her hips in her snug leggings, the smooth line of her bare arms. The shimmer of her hair, still long, still midnight. He lingered on her lips before lifting his gaze again.

She looked like everything he had dreamed about.