Page 48 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost (Nightfall Syndicate #1)

thirty-seven

Kade

T he elevator doors close behind us with a soft hiss. I watch Alina lean against the wall, her fingers absently tracing the purple bruises circling her wrists.

The sight of those marks makes something dark and possessive twist inside me.

The medical check was my idea. I don't trust Alina to admit if she's hurt beyond the visible injuries. Remy would have checked her mental state too—standard procedure after an operative's first kill.

First kill. The thought tightens something in my chest. She shouldn't be in that position. Shouldn't need to pull that trigger. If I'd been more vigilant—

"You're grinding your teeth again." Alina interrupts my thoughts.

I force my jaw to relax. "Just thinking. "

When the elevator doors open to B4, I stride into the command center with Alina following behind. Asher and Jax are huddled over a tablet, but straighten immediately when they see us.

"Well?" I keep my voice low, controlled.

Jax's mouth quirks into that characteristic half-smile of his. "All good. Package delivered, complete with bow."

His eyes flick to Alina, then back to me. "Left it right where you specified."

"And Cole?" I direct this at Asher, whose face remains impassive as always.

"Said he'd handle it personally. Apparently, he already had an in." Asher's dark eyes flicker to Alina briefly. "Mentioned something about having better luck than you would."

A muscle in my jaw twitches. "That so."

"What can I say?" Jax rocks back on his heels, grinning. "Some of us have natural charm."

"And some of us are naturally full of shit," Asher mutters, earning a laugh from Jax and Alina.

Alina glances between them, clearly sensing the subtext.

"How's Remy?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

All three of us look at her.

"Clean bill of health," she says, showing me the gash on her forearm, raw and pink around the edges. "Though the doc wasn't exactly happy about this."

The sight of the bandage stokes the anger I've been keeping under tight control since the alley. Not at her—never at her—but at myself for letting her get into that situation in the first place .

Jax suddenly slaps Asher's shoulder. "Gotta check on that thing. You know, the thing."

Asher raises an eyebrow. "Right. The thing."

They move toward the exit with synchronized efficiency. As they pass Alina, Jax winks while Asher gives a slight nod.

"What's their problem?" Alina turns to me, a small crease forming between her brows.

"Nothing you need to worry about." I step closer, my gaze sweeping over her, checking for any signs of the shock I know could be setting in soon. "We're leaving."

"Leaving? We just got here—"

"Now, Alina." I use my command voice. My hand settles at the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. "My place."

She opens her mouth as if to argue, then closes it again. Good. She's learning.

In the garage, I open the passenger door of my Audi for her before sliding into the driver's seat. I can feel the tension radiating off her, see the slight tremor in her hands that she's trying to hide. The adrenaline crash is starting.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, keeping my eyes on the road as we pull out of the parking garage. Every instinct screams at me to comfort her, to tell her the first kill is always the hardest, that it will get easier—but that isn't what she needs to hear right now.

What she needs is structure. Control. Someone to take the burden of choice from her shoulders, even if just for a little while.

"Say it," she finally breaks the silence as we merge onto the highway.

"Say what?" I keep my eyes forward .

"Whatever's making you look like you're about to snap that steering wheel in half."

My mouth tightens. "Not now."

"If this is about what happened at the warf—"

"I said not now, Alina." My tone is final.

The rest of the ride passes in tense silence. By the time we reach my penthouse, the tension between us feels like physical weight on my shoulders, vibrating in the air between us like a live wire.

We step into the private elevator, and as soon as the doors close, I slam my hand against the emergency stop button.

I turn to her, letting her see the anger I've been keeping leashed. "You disobeyed a direct order."

She lifts her chin, defiant even now. "I saved your life."

"You could have been killed." Each word comes out precise, controlled. "Do you understand that? You could be dead right now."

"But I'm not."

"That's not the point." I step closer, backing her against the wall. "When I give you an order in the field, you follow it. No questions. No exceptions."

Color floods her cheeks. "I'm not one of your soldiers, Kade."

"No." My voice drops lower. "You're mine. And that means I protect you."

"I don't need—"

I cut off her protest with my mouth, kissing her hard and deep, pouring all my fear and frustration into it. Her initial resistance melts quickly, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away .

When I finally break the kiss, we're both breathing hard.

"You killed a man today," I say quietly. "Your first."

She flinches, the memory clearly cutting through her. "I did what I had to."

"I know." My expression softens slightly. "But that doesn't make it easier."

I release the emergency stop, and the elevator continues its ascent. When the doors open to my penthouse, I guide her inside.

Instead of heading to the bedroom, I direct her toward the kitchen. The space gleams under the recessed lighting—polished granite and stainless steel, everything in its place. Order in a chaotic world.

I stop beside the large island in the center.

"Take off your clothes."

Her head snaps up. "What?"

"You heard me." My voice remains level, implacable.

"Here? In the kitchen?"

"Is that a problem?" I raise an eyebrow, challenging her.

She swallows hard, pulse fluttering at her throat. "What if I say no?"

"Then we will have a problem." I cross my arms over my chest. "And I don't think you want that right now, little hellcat."

Something shifts in her expression at the nickname—a softening, a surrender. Slowly, she pulls her shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor. Her jeans follow, then her bra and underwear, until she stands naked before me.

My gaze lingers on the bruises circling her wrists, making something fierce and protective surge through me again. But now isn't the time for gentleness. She needs this—needs me to take control so she can let go. Stop thinking. Stop seeing what she'd done today.

Before she can react, I grab her waist and hoist her onto the kitchen island. The polished granite must be cold against her ass, but I don't give her time to complain. I spread her thighs wide, positioning myself between them.

"What are you—"

My hand comes down on her pussy with a sharp smack. Not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to send a message. She gasps, eyes widening in shock.

"That's for disobeying me in the field." Another smack, this time slightly harder. Her back arches, a strangled moan escaping her lips.

Her pussy glistens, already wet from my punishment. Fuck. Nothing turns me on more than seeing how her body responds to me.

"Look at you," I growl, running my fingers through her slick folds. "Getting wet from being spanked."

Another smack, followed by a gentle caress. Her thighs tremble as I circle her clit with my thumb, building her up only to pull away when she starts to tense.

"Kade," she whimpers, frustration evident in her voice.

"Yes, hellcat?" I deliver another light slap to her sensitive flesh.

Her hips buck involuntarily. "Please."

"Please what?" I push two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that makes her gasp.

"I need..." She can't finish, words failing her as I stroke her insistently, bringing her to the edge before withdrawing completely .

"What do you need?" I unzip my pants, freeing my cock. I'm rock hard, throbbing with the need to be inside her.

Tears of frustration gather in her eyes. "You. Inside me. Now."

"Who do you belong to?" I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock sliding through her wetness and rubbing against her clit with each pass.

"You," she breathes, desperation making her voice crack. "I'm yours. Only yours."

I thrust into her in one powerful stroke, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, pussy clenching around me. The height of the island is perfect—allowing me to drive into her at just the right angle.

My hands grip her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh as I hold her in place. Each thrust is harder than the last, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen.

"No one else," I growl, punctuating each word with a thrust. "No one else touches you. No one else sees you like this."

"Only you," she moans, head thrown back in abandon. "Only you, Kade."

"That's right." My pace becomes punishing, relentless. "And I'm going to fill you up. Make you mine in every way."

Her eyes fly open, pupils blown wide with desire.

"Yes," she breathes, and I know she's thinking about it—me coming inside her, the possibility of creating something together.

The thought drives me wild. I reach between us, circling her clit with my thumb as I pound into her .

"Come for me," I demand. "Now."

She shatters instantly, screaming my name as her pussy clamps down around me. The sight of her—flushed and trembling, completely at my mercy—sends me over the edge. I bury myself deep inside her, emptying myself with a guttural groan.

For a moment, we stay frozen like that, both breathing hard. Then I carefully withdraw, pulling her against my chest. Her legs wrap around my waist, arms encircling my neck as I carry her toward the shower.

"Still mad at me?" she murmurs against my throat.

"Furious," I reply, but there's no heat in it anymore. "But you're still alive. That's what matters."

I set her down carefully on the bathroom stool, turning on the shower. As steam fills the room, I examine the bruises on her wrists again.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask, suddenly concerned I might have been too rough in my need to claim her.

She shakes her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "Nothing I didn't want."

I search her face, looking for any sign of regret or discomfort. Finding none, I scoop her into my arms, carrying her toward the shower.

The shower is big enough for four people, with multiple showerheads and a built-in bench. I set Alina down carefully, then turn on the water, adjusting the temperature before guiding her under the spray.

I follow her in, letting the hot water sluice over us both. With careful attention, I wash her hair, my fingers massaging her scalp until the tension melts from her shoulders.

"Better?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her temple .

"Mmm." She leans back against my chest. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be punishing me, you're being awfully nice."

I chuckle, the sound rumbling through me. "The punishment's over, hellcat. This is the aftercare."

She turns in my arms, looking up at me. Water beads on her lashes, making her green eyes seem even brighter. "Is that what we're doing? Aftercare?"

Something shifts in my chest. "It's what I'm doing. Taking care of what's mine."

After I've dried her off, I pull one of my t-shirts over her head. It swallows her slight frame, falling to mid-thigh.

"Come with me," I say, taking her hand. "I have something for you."

I lead her to my home office, watching her reaction as she notices the vintage camera sitting on my desk. Next to it is a small plate with a slice of her grandmother's famous chocolate hazelnut torte.

"Oh my God." She stops in the doorway, her eyes fixed on the camera.

She approaches slowly, as if the camera might disappear if she moves too quickly. It's a Leica M3—not just any M3, but a rare black paint version in pristine condition. These are nearly impossible to find, and when they do surface, they command prices in the tens of thousands.

"How did you..." She turns to me, her surprised expression turning to suspicion. "Right. Stalking."

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. "Not exactly."

"Then how?" She gestures to the camera. "These are impossible to find, and that—" She points to the dessert, "—is my grandmother's recipe that she guards more closely than state secrets."

I move to stand behind her, my hands settling on her shoulders. "I was already obsessed with you after you broke into that warehouse, Alina."

A tremor runs through her, but I note she doesn't pull away.

"That night at Gary Danko," I continue, my voice low, "I couldn't stand seeing another man touch you. The thought of his hands on you made me want to tear him apart."

"So you scared him away," she says, realization dawning in her eyes.

"I did." I don't apologize. I never will. "And I'd do it again. The idea of anyone else touching what's mine makes me murderous."

She turns to face me. "And the camera?"

"I had cameras in your apartment." Again, no apology. "I noticed your collection. This was the one you didn't have."

"And the dessert? Did you torture my grandmother for the recipe?"

I laugh, genuinely amused. "That woman is made of titanium. She wouldn't break. We sent Cole to sweet-talk her into baking some."

Alina laughs, the sound warming something cold inside me. "Grandma Sophia probably thought Cole was hot."

"Apparently, she tried to set him up with her neighbor's granddaughter." I smile despite myself. "He barely escaped."

She shakes her head, grinning. "That sounds like Grandma." Her fingers trace the camera reverently. "This is... incredible. Thank you. "

"That's not all." I reach into a desk drawer and pull out a small box.

I open it to reveal a sleek tactical watch, its matte black surface gleaming in the low light. Turning it over, I show her the engraving on the back: "Hellcat."

"What's this?" she asks, as I carefully fasten it around her wrist.

"Every Nightfall operative gets one when they're officially inducted," I explain. "It has a specialized chip that makes it easy for us to track each other."

The watch face is almost comically large on her slender wrist. I frown slightly. "I never had to think about women's sizes before."

She laughs. "Hellcat, huh? That's my callsign?"

"It fits." My smile softens as I roll up my sleeve to show her my own watch—similar in design but with additional features. "Only Roman and I have this version."

My voice cracks slightly on Roman's name, the loss still a raw wound.

Alina covers my hand with hers, squeezing gently. "It's perfect."

The significance of the moment settles between us. This isn't just a gift—it's initiation into my world, a world where morality is rarely black and white, where the rules are different, where loyalty is everything.

I bring her hand to my lips, kissing the inside of her wrist just below the watch.

"This is your formal welcome to Nightfall, Alina Bennett."