Page 9 of Code Mages & Empty Pages (Frostfire #2)

Luc

M y legs killed me.

Last night my gym coach had finally decided it was time I stopped skipping leg day. Now, every step felt like penance for thirty-one years of avoidance. I grunted as I limped down the hall toward the ancient lift at the far end, trying not to wince.

Dawn was already waiting. She glanced over as I approached and gave me a once-over, one eyebrow raised.

“Tough session?” she asked, pressing the button for the fourth floor. Her tone was gentle, not teasing.

“You have no idea,” I muttered, shifting my weight and trying not to look like I was about to collapse.

The doors slid open with a groan, and we stepped inside. I took the opportunity to lean against the wall and let out a sigh. Dawn smirked but didn’t say anything, she just brushed a loose curl away from her face.

For a few seconds, it was just the hum of the lift and the obnoxious music. I snuck a glance at her. She looked tired but content, her shoulders finally a little less tense than they’d been last week.

Then, halfway between floors, the lift shuddered to a halt.

We both froze.

“Ugh, no,” Dawn groaned, stabbing the emergency button with her thumb.

My stomach dropped. “Shit.”

She spoke into the little speaker. “Hi, this is Dawn Kent from IT. My colleague, Luc Atkins, and I are stuck in the lift, uh… The code is 2437.” She read the sticker aloud.

There was a pause, then a woman’s calm voice: “Try to stay calm. A technician will be with you in twenty-five to forty minutes.”

“Are you serious?” I barked. “Forty minutes?!”

“There’s been an accident in Bromewood Park, and the Gillam Park construction’s a mess…”

Fair point. Frostfire was a nightmare to reach lately.

Dawn just shook her head, lips twitching. “This would make a killer scene for one of my books, you know.”

I shot her a look. “What, two IT nerds sweating it out in a shoebox? I hope you’re not planning another Lupinian main character. The last time you got the anatomy all wrong.”

She snorted. “Maybe you should consult if you want to make sure I don’t mess it up.”

“I’m not sure you could handle that,” I teased, just to see her roll her eyes.

She elbowed me, grinning now. “Want me to dedicate the next one to you? ‘For Luc, who survived the Great Lift Debacle and insisted on anatomical accuracy’?”

“No need. I’ll just make sure you get the technical stuff right.”

She laughed, and for a second, the lift felt a little less claustrophobic.

Dawn shifted on the floor, bumping her shoulder against the wall. “Do you ever read romance?”

I tried to play it cool. “Yeah, sometimes. LairMart apparently thought your book was a good fit for me a couple months ago.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And? Was it?”

I snorted. “No. It was unrealistic.”

She gave me a wicked grin. “Too many female orgasms?”

That almost made me laugh. “Nobody’s interested in a monster, anyway,” I muttered, maybe a little harsher than intended.

She just gave me a look but didn’t push. I rolled my eyes and turned in place, almost smashing my muzzle against the wall. Conall White’s cheerful tune kept playing, nerves ratcheting higher. “Merde! Can’t they turn off this fucking music?” The lift felt smaller by the second. My chest tightened.

Get it together, Atkins. Don’t fucking hyperventilate. Not in front of her.

But it was happening. I could barely get a breath in.

Dawn turned toward me, and something in her expression softened. “Hey, Lucien? Breathe, okay?” Her pronunciation of my name was perfect, and I liked it way more than I should. She offered her hand. I took it. “You’re alright,” she said, stroking my knuckles.

Wolves in my family weren’t expected to need comfort, but right then, with Dawn’s hand in mine, I felt good. Her touch calmed me in a way I’d never known.

If this were one of her novels, I wouldn’t be hyperventilating while a hot woman and I were stuck in a lift together.

No, I’d have her against the wall, making the most of it.

But this was real life. She was my colleague, and I had my urges under control.

Rut or not, I wasn’t an animal, no matter what my useless piece-of-shit father wanted me to believe.

“Are you okay, Luc?” Dawn asked gently.

I just nodded and let her guide me down to sit beside her on the floor.

“Just breathe with me. They’ll get us out soon.” She started humming, soft and soothing, like you would to calm a child.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall, focusing on her voice.“I’m sorry I’ve been weird to you at work, Dawn,” I said, eyes still squeezed shut. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

“It’s okay,” she said automatically, but I shook my head.

“No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve it. I’m just really messed up.”

She squeezed my hand. “Why do you say that?”

I told her more than I’d ever admitted to anyone. I talked about my toxic family, my father’s rules, and the Lupinian at my old job, until there was nothing left to say.

“I hated how they treated women. I tried to change things, but I couldn’t.

In the end, I left because I couldn’t stomach it anymore.

” A couple of tears slipped out, but I didn’t care if she saw.

“I’ll never become that man,” I said, not even sure if I meant my father or that asshole at work.

“I fix things, Dawn. That’s what I do. I can sort out bugs, furniture, and heating systems. But I couldn’t fix that . I hated myself for it.”

“Oh, Luc.” She sighed and traced her thumb across my knuckles, gentle. There was no judgment in her eyes.

“So yeah.” I tried to laugh, but it just came out flat. “I’d rather you think I’m distant than risk making you uncomfortable.”

She let a sly smirk curl her lips. “Thank you for admitting you’re too noble to tell me you find me hot.”

My eyes flew open. Dawn’s gaze was steady but playful.

“I’m joking, but… I’m glad you told me. That explains a lot.”

I shifted so I could look at her properly. “You think?”

“Yeah.” Her voice softened, and I was acutely aware of how close we sat. “I’m sorry you thought I’d mistake your friendliness for something else. There is a middle ground between ignoring someone and harassing them, you know.”

Something in my chest loosened, maybe for the first time since we met. I realised I wanted her to see me, to really see me. Not just the parts I kept polished and safe, but the rough edges, too.

“I suppose.”

She pressed her lips together, determined. “There is. I’m not scared of you, Luc. I’m not uncomfortable, either. You’re a good person. Grumpy, but good.”

We both huffed out a laugh, then our eyes met and we held onto each other. Dawn reached up and gently brushed the wetness from my cheek.

“It’s okay. It’s just you and me here. Being soft isn’t a weakness, Luc,” she whispered.

For a moment, I was able to believe her without my father’s voice crashing through my head. I leaned in, desperate to forget the world outside.

Ding!

We both flinched as the technician’s grinning face appeared in the doorway. “Everything alright in here?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dawn answered quickly. She got up and smoothed her dress as she stepped back.

There was barely a yard between us, but it felt like miles.

I hated small spaces, but somehow, with her, I’d forgotten all about my unease.

Part of me wanted the guy to close the door just for a minute so I could finally kiss her.

We stepped out into the harsh light of the hallway. Dawn caught my hand for a heartbeat and squeezed. “Don’t worry, Luc. What happens in the lift stays in the lift.”

We walked out together, blinking under the office lights, both of us moving a little slower than usual.

I muttered a thanks to the technician, and Dawn gave him a polite smile.

My hands were still shaky. There was a weird vulnerability humming under my skin.

It was a mix of relief for saying what I’d said, and a kind of embarrassment for nearly falling apart in front of her.

Neither of us tried to fill the silence on the way to the car park. Her hand brushed mine, not quite by accident, and, for a moment, I almost reached for it. But the moment passed, and I needed to get my head straight before I did something I’d regret.

I unlocked the car, and Dawn slid into the passenger seat. The simple normalcy of turning the key, adjusting the mirror, and settling into something familiar grounded me. I took a breath.

Dawn buckled her seatbelt and looked over. “Are alright?”

I managed half a smile. “I’m okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, grateful that she didn’t push. “Not right now. But thanks for earlier.”

“Anytime, Luc.” She meant it. I appreciated that more than I could say.

The drive helped. My playlist filled the silence as the city rolled past. For a few minutes, I could pretend I hadn’t just exposed a raw nerve in a tiny lift with my housemate-slash-colleague.

After a while, Dawn spoke, her tone casual but curious. “So, what are you up to tonight? Got plans?”

I gripped the steering wheel, wishing for something cool to say. “Uh… nothing special. Just, you know… catching up with a few friends. Online.”

She glanced over, brow quirked. “Online friends? You’ve never mentioned them before.”

My neck felt hot. “Yeah, well… it’s just a thing we do. Friday nights. Kind of a tradition.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t teasing. “That sounds like fun.”

I let out a short, awkward laugh. “Yeah, well. Keeps me busy.”

The silence that followed was somehow both comfortable and charged, as if she could sense I was holding back. She didn’t press, and I was absurdly grateful.

When we pulled up to the house, Dawn lingered for a second with the keys in her hand. “Thanks for the ride, Luc.”

“Sure,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. I watched her walk up to the door, then sat in the quiet for a moment, shoulders tense.

Inside, I went straight to my room, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. I needed to clear my head and lose myself in something familiar. Slipping into the game came as a relief. Here I could be useful. Nobody asked me questions or expected answers I didn’t want to give.

I needed to be part of a pack in the one place I knew how.

Tomorrow, maybe, I’d find my way back and talk to Dawn. But tonight, I’d just hide in my room and escape.