Page 7

Lina

The morning light spilled through the panoramic window of the Blackthorn Corporation high-rise, illuminating the sleek, modern office. A hum of activity surrounded me—clattering keyboards and soft conversations—the air thick with the scent of fresh coffee and polished surfaces. Today marked my first day of “work,” a term I used loosely, given the stealth mission I was really here to accomplish: find where my mother was and break her out.

I had barely slept the night before, the thought of the banquet swirling in my mind like an uninvited guest. Magnus Blackthorn’s announcement of our impending mate bond reverberated in my ears, a promise I loathed. I had spent years fleeing the constraints of my father’s wishes, and now I was willingly giving away my freedom.

Walking through Blackthorn Corporation, I reassured myself that it was only an act. It wouldn’t come to that. I’d discover where my mother was, and we’d both get out of the city this time and away from Magnus Blackthorn forever.

A secretary—a female Blackthorn shifter I recognized from last night’s banquet—Ella, showed me toward my office, a corner space with an expansive view of the city—status wrapped in glass and steel. But all focus faded the moment I caught sight of the man seated behind the desk inside: Stephen Blackthorn.

My gaze snapped to the desk on the opposite side of the room. Magnus had said I would be shadowing Stephen, but I hadn’t banked on having to share an office with him. Stephen was dressed in a shirt and slacks. His powerful frame was accentuated in the clean-cut lines, and his dark hair was tousled just enough to give him an air of roguish charm. My heart raced as familiar memories of our night together clashed with my current reality, fueling the resentment I tried to suppress.

“Is everything all right, Ms. Silvermoon?” Ella stammered.

I forced a smile. “Great, thanks Ella. Please, call me Lina.”

Her smile reached her eyes this time, and I felt how essential it was going to be to make allies if I were going to survive working at Blackthorn in such close proximity to my enemy.

Because that’s what Stephen was, I reminded myself. The fact that he’d been invited to last night’s interrogation suggested he was deep in Magnus’s trust; for all I knew, he knew my mother was imprisoned. He was as much my enemy as his father was.

Beyond that, he had rejected me five years ago. If he hadn’t pushed me away back then, wouldn’t everything be different? If he had intervened with my arranged mate bond with Magnus in the first place, I wouldn’t be leading this double life, and my mother wouldn’t be a prisoner. And although I loved my daughter and being a mother, Stephen’s rejection and abandonment led to me being a solo parent.

Yes, Stephen has a lot to answer for.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed down this churning whirlpool of resentment deep into the pit of my stomach and pushed back the door to the office.

“Good morning, Lina,” Stephen said, his voice clipped but looking up at me.

“Stephen,” I said, trying to force a similarly brusque tone. I went to the glass desk on the other side of the room, willing my heart rate to stop its damned dancing. A hint of Stephen’s spicy cologne paired with his natural earthiness teased me, a potent reminder of the desires I needed to crush.

“Or would you prefer, Stepmother?” he said after a moment.

I willed myself not to react. “I think Lina’s fine,” I said, sitting down at my desk before catching his eyes. “For now.”

His lush green eyes hardened, and my gaze went to the files on my desk, focusing on what I was supposedly here for.

I opened the folder. “So, what are we working on?”

“Magnus wants a report on the Ashford deal by the end of the day. Familiarize yourself with the financials and distribution network,” he said, his eyes assessing me with that look I was growing familiar with—like I were a puzzle he’d crack.

“Of course.” I bristled at having to take orders from the man who had abandoned me all those years ago. But his scrutiny only fueled my resolve to play the part I’d committed to. “And the rest?” I asked, my tone crisp as I shifted my focus to the other files on my desk, trying to reduce the memory of how he’d spurned me to nothing more than a footnote on a ledger.

“Contain details of our investors for the various pharmaceuticals we manufacture. I’d like you to familiarize yourself with each one, as there’s an investment round coming up. You’ll have to learn fast,” he warned, “the funding round Magnus wants you to attend is in under a week.”

I nodded, my attention already turning to the reading assigned. Yet as Stephen’s spice and earthiness infiltrated my lungs, even here on the other side of the office, the past crept back in. Stephen’s rejection of me rang through my mind. His deep-seated betrayal echoed through the quiet, burrowing into my chest like thorns.

My fingers curled around the papers I was reading, scrunching the corners. I forced my grip to loosen. I had to be sharp to navigate this treacherous landscape. Emotion would only endanger my mission. I concentrated on Blackthorn’s deals, recalling every detail I had learned over the last few years. I was well-equipped to handle the numbers and strategies, and I had to rely on that knowledge despite the undercurrent of resentment flaring in Stephen’s presence.

When it got too much, I spent an inordinate amount of time at the printer, “grabbing files,” even though Ella offered to get them for me. I made small talk about the deals with Ella and the other employees who passed by. Annoyingly, the nearest photocopier was in the line of sight to our office, and every time I lingered there, I’d glance over only to find Stephen’s eyes on me.

The couple of times I managed to slip away without him—to the break room or to the bathroom—he just so happened to have the exact same need at the exact same moment. It was clear that Stephen’s shadowing was going to be very literal. By the end of the day, I hated that I clearly wasn’t going to get to take any scenic wanderings around the building by myself.

Days bled into one another, reading files, attending meetings, and working on presentations, all relentlessly with Stephen. Each interaction was a careful maneuver where we tried to gauge the other’s intention. I tried to keep a veneer of professionalism in place, but I could feel him constantly assessing me, waiting for me to slip up so that he could haul me before Magnus and reveal me as the enemy I was.

And always, at the back of my mind, the haunting thought of my mother’s captivity lingered—her safety hung in the balance of every interaction I had with Stephen. The weight of our shared secrets tightened around my chest, strangling any chance I had of letting my guard down.

One day, as we were working on ideas for the upcoming investor’s meeting, I piped up, “I think we should add Connor Hamilton to the investors coming.”

“Hamilton’s already got all his skin in Valace and Platel. He’s not going to be up for funding us,” Stephen replied from his side of the room.

I knew he was basically rolling his eyes by the note of impatience in his tone. Something I was mostly screened from, thanks to the leafy and tall plants I’d gotten for my desk. I had placed the leafy tall plants on my desk as a buffer, hoping they would screen me off from Stephen and reduce the resentment bubbling up every time I caught sight of him. They formed a living wall that helped me maintain some semblance of focus. Yet, even with the greenery encasing me, I couldn’t help but notice how the lush color of the leaves evoked the shade of Stephen’s eyes, sending a shot of frustration through me.

“Hamilton’s pulled out of Platel. The animal trials didn’t pass.” I informed Stephen.

“What’s your source?” Through my living wall, I caught his look of suspicion. Thanks to my shadow company, Platel was old news, but I had doubled down on finding a source I could share and came up with a small journal article on the drug trial that Platel hadn’t managed to hush up.

“I’ll forward you it.” I attached the article to an email.

Stephen’s suspicious look only deepened, and he shot up. “I need to stretch my legs, anyway.” In a moment, he was beside me, leaning over to read the article on my screen. “The high levels of cortisol encountered in the test subjects show the drug requires more testing before it can be approved for human trials.” I’d highlighted the scientist’s name, the lead on the trials currently running with our competitor.

“This is…brilliant,” Stephen said.

“Thanks—” I managed, disoriented by the compliment. His eyes continued to run over the line in the journal I’d highlighted, still engrossed in checking my findings. He leaned closer to read the article on my screen, his fingertips brushing against my forearm where I leaned on the desk. It was just a fleeting touch, yet it sent an electric current coursing through me.

I caught the subtle change in Stephen’s complexion, a flush creeping across his cheeks as he tried to maintain his composure. Just as quickly as it had happened, he withdrew his hand, but the warmth where our skin had connected lingered.

The next moment, Stephen’s lush green eyes fell on me, and the heat in his stare had my head spinning. But before I could dwell on the familiar pull between us, Ella, our assistant, stepped into the room. My stomach bottomed out as disappointment flooded me. My wolf whined, pacing within me, eager for the connection that was slipping away.

“I have the final details for Friday’s presentation,” she announced.

Stephen snapped out of the moment. “Thank you, Ella.” He took the papers before returning to his desk. His voice was lower, almost scratchy, and sent a shiver down my spine.

As he sat down, he said, “I’ll call Hamilton and invite him to the investor’s meeting.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. But I was still reeling from the look of desire in his eyes.

It doesn’t mean anything.

Then why do I feel so warm?

Stephen was looking at me through the wall of leaves. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine.” Why was my voice so husky? “I need a water,” I said, my tone clipped as I stood up. I turned my back on Stephen, forcing myself to walk with purpose toward the door. As I exited, I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the reality of my mission.

From the break room, through the glass wall, I watched Stephen reclining back in his chair, his handsome profile silhouetted against the afternoon light filtering in through the window, and my traitorous heart beat a frantic rhythm. Sipping my water, I reminded myself that I mustn’t let our past history distract me. Returning to work, I kept my focus razor-sharp and poured all of my effort into the upcoming investment presentation we had in two days.

A couple of evenings later, Stephen and I wrapped up our report in the conference room after a very successful meeting in which we’d secured all the investment we’d wanted.

“I think that’ll do for the night,” Stephen said as he closed his laptop. Likewise, I was slipping my laptop away. The vibe tonight was almost amicable as we walked out of the conference room, which set me on edge.

Stephen hit the button to the elevator. “You were great in there today, Lina,” he said.

“Thanks.”

My fingers tapped nervously against my thigh as I watched the shifting numbers above the doors light up, the elevator ascending.

Tension swooped through my stomach. The oppressive thought of being in the small, enclosed space behind those doors grew heavier—a dread I knew all too well.

It’s just an elevator ride. You’ll soon be in your car.

But the mantra felt hollow. Just thinking about the confined space already had my breath shallow. But it wasn’t just the small space that was setting me on edge. It was Stephen’s compliment. A mix of confusion and conflict threaded through my veins as I thought of how brilliant Stephen had been in the conference room today, too.

During the presentation, Stephen spoke with a magnetism that ensured everyone was captivated. I swallowed, my throat tightening as I admitted to myself how drawn I’d been to him, whether I liked it or not. It was something in the way he carried himself—confident and assured—that made it difficult to concentrate. Every time he spoke, the authority in his voice cut through the room, but it was the quick flashes of warmth in his eyes when they landed on me that ignited a longing I struggled to ignore.

“Lina?”

Shit. He said something again.

“Sorry?” I asked.

“You can follow up with Hamilton next week if you’d like,” he said.

I blinked, surprised. It was an olive branch. I had secured Hamilton’s funding. It was my information that led to including him in the round, and Stephen was giving me the credit I deserved: a client of my own to handle.

I tried not to let it mean too much. “Thanks. Sure, I’ll call him Monday.”

“You all right? You seem distracted,” he said, his gaze searching mine.

“Yeah, fine,” I replied, keeping my voice cool and detached.

He frowned, taking in my fingers, still tapping nervously against my thigh. “You can talk to me if there’s something on your mind.”

Awkwardness swam through me, curdling with the resentment that was never far away. Perhaps it was my agitation, the thought of the enclosed space I was soon to be ensconced in, but I snapped, “Talk to you?”

He looked taken aback by my tone for a brief moment. Then, he more gently added, “Of course. I care about you, Lina.”

Even though I felt the charged moment, I pushed past it. His gentle tone had the opposite effect he’d intended, and the bitterness bubbled up in my chest until I couldn’t hold it back. “Let’s be crystal clear—it’s only business between us, nothing else. After all, it won’t be long before I’m your stepmother.”

A shadow of hurt flickered in his eyes.

He nodded slowly, a subtle tension threading through his posture.

Finally, the elevator reached the fiftieth floor, and we got in. He pressed the button for the basement car park, the silence thick and awkward as the doors closed behind us.

The elevator began its descent. The quiet in the small space felt grating, but I was determined to maintain the line I’d just drawn between us.

But then, the lift reached the eleventh floor and lurched.

My stomach somersaulted, the sound of grinding metal setting my teeth on edge, and the elevator ground to a shaky halt. The lights flickered, and we were plunged into darkness.

I gasped. “What’s happening?” I hated the unsteadiness of my voice.

“Just a power outage, I think,” Stephen’s voice was firm, cutting through my panic for a moment.

He tried the emergency button. “Hello? The elevator’s broken down. Can anyone hear me?”

The silence ensuing on the other end had my heartbeat skyrocketing.

The darkness around me seemed to stretch and grow while the space seemed to press in on me. Suddenly, my heart was in my throat.

“It’s just a technical glitch,” Stephen’s voice sounded again. “They’ll have it sorted in no time.” I could hear the certainty in his voice, as if he were trying to reassure me, but he sounded far away.

My back hit the elevator wall, and it was then I realized my breath had started to quicken, and I was shaking. Stephen’s voice had sounded drowned out because my breathing was so loud.

I knew exactly what was happening, but it didn’t help. The darkness suffocated me, as did the small space. It had been years since I had suffered a panic attack, but as the paralyzing wave of terror hit me, I recognized the monster from my childhood.

Suddenly, I was a girl, and my father was pushing me into a small, windowless room. His shout boomed through my head, “You’ll stay in there until you learn your place!” He’d slammed the door behind him, the key turning in the lock, and my panic had clawed through me.

“Please,” I begged, the words coming from my throat as if being dragged out of my airways. “Please. No.” I was back there, in that small room, unable to get enough air into my lungs.

A firm touch on my arm jolted me from my panic. “It’s okay, Lina. You’re okay.”

Stephen’s hand slipped into mine. Then he reached for my other hand. No, I’d grasped onto his other hand. I was squeezing both his hands as if they were the only thing keeping the darkness from taking me. Even in the pitch black, I reckoned my vision was already tunneling, just like it used to when I was thrown into that small room as a kid; whatever misdemeanor my father had to discipline me for, the punishment was always the same. This little room, where I inevitably passed out in.

The panic slashed through me, taunting me that it wouldn’t let me out of its clutches.

Stephen squeezed my hands right back, and although the warmth of his touch shouldn’t be comforting… it was. The familiarity of his scent, earthy and spicy, swirled around me, grounding me, and his gentle, commanding tone found me,

“Breathe, Lina. Breathe with me. In….and out…In…. and out….”

For a long time, there was only Stephen’s breath mingling with mine. For a long time, all we were was our breath.

But after a while, the darkness and small space didn’t feel threatening anymore, but…comforting because the darkness was full of Stephen now. His breath, his warm, gentle hands in mine, and his earthy scent wrapped around me.

My death grip had eased, and as I opened my palms, his thumbs began to massage circles in the center of my hands.

The feeling sent a jolt of awareness rushing through me, my skin tingling with anticipation instead of panic.

“How does that feel?” he murmured, his voice a low growl, and instantly I was caught up in another memory. But this was a good memory. Or it was now, as all I remembered right now from the night we met was the heat that was pooling in me again, along with the jolt of recognition of who Stephen was to me: my mate.

“Good,” I’d whispered, and giving myself to this moment completely, I dared to whisper. “Good.”

“Good,” he echoed, continuing to massage the center of both of my palms in slow circles, just as he had massaged the arch of my foot the night he’d helped me back to my motel room.

The last rational part of my brain told me to stop this. There were so many reasons why we shouldn’t give in to this pull between us, but the same fierce want that had awoken years ago now trembled through my body.

Just then, the elevator jolted, the sudden movement causing me to stumble into his chest, and all at once, I was pressed up closely against him, the feel of his muscles against my breasts sending a jolt of desire straight to my core. My hands curled around his arms, gripping his biceps for support. He’d grabbed hold of my arms protectively, drawing me nearer, and I felt his heartbeat pounding against my own rapidly beating heart.

All the want that had built over the last couple of weeks while working together rushed up, and I murmured, “Stephen.”

In an instant, Stephen cupped my jaw, his kiss a slow, exploratory one as his lips asked wordlessly whether I was okay. I hadn’t even known I needed this gentleness, but I melted into him, telling him I was and that with him, I felt safe.

There was nothing but the heat of his mouth against mine, a connection that sent shockwaves along my skin. The games of control and the secrets I had to hide were swallowed by the dark, too. All that remained was the heady mix of the taste of him on my tongue. It mingled with the memory of our night together, and time telescoped until I felt as if we were suddenly back in that dark motel room.

My wolf roared within me.

Him, him, him.

Mine, mine, mine.

She loved the primal quality of the darkness, feeling as if she were in a den in the earth, with only hunger and heat blanketing us.

As his teeth grazed my bottom lip with a perfect blend of teasing and urgency, I gasped, needing more. I nibbled back, our tongues dancing in a slow rhythm that felt both familiar and excitingly new. The intoxicating spice and earthiness of him that I’d been battling for weeks now enveloped me, and I was lost, drowning in the scent, taste, and feel of my mate, suddenly never wanting to leave this place.