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She barked a humorless laugh. ‘You needed to do more than express it; you should have discussed it with me.’

‘Like I said, didn’t get the chance yet,’ he growled. ‘Regardless, I know you want more.’

‘I don’t know that yet.’

‘You do.’

‘I don’t, Xander.’

He moved in, eyes blazing. ‘I see it. In your eyes. You feel more for me than you’ll ever admit.’

‘You don’t know me,’ she whispered.

‘Oh, but I do,’ he grated, his energy dangerous now. ‘Say it, you want me.’

Her composure cracked. ‘Fine! You want to hear it? I like you. There. Happy?’

The air sucked out of the room.

Xander stilled, as if the words knocked the wind out of him.

‘Say it again,’ he said hoarsely.

She shoved at his chest. ‘ Nada .’

He grabbed her wrists. ‘You like me?’

She pushed harder, wild with heat and shame and fury.

He kissed her.

It was a crash of want and rage, lips bruising, teeth clashing. His hands held her like she might disappear, and for one moment, just one, she let him. Kissed him back with fever.

Then she thrust him away, gasping. ‘I might like you, but I’m not sure I want what you do about it.’

‘Is that right? Why?’ he snarled.

‘Maybe I’m not cut out for an untamed, spectral relationship,’ she snapped. ‘I’m not some weak ass woman waiting to be claimed. Not by you.’

The words left her mouth before she could catch them. Regret swam through her gut as she saw the shift in his face.

Xander’s eyes went flat and cold.

‘Untamed, ay?’ he drawled, the ice in his rasp so glacial it sent shards of terror through her.

At the same time, his energy flames, and she saw flashes of violet and gold lightning arc around him.

Fokk .

‘A few nights ago, you said my lycan abilities were hot, they turned you on. Were you lying because you now realize you have a problem with my genetics? Or is it my prison time? Perhaps you fear the Bianchi clan’s shame at having a shifter lover? At hooking up with an untouchable?’

She hesitated, her breath hitching. ‘I’ll be honest. You’re not the kind of man I’d typically bring home.’

His face hardened like steel. ‘Not surprising given the Bianchi’s anti-meta, counter-shifter stance.’

She shook her head. ‘ Nada . My parents and I might be Bianchi, but we don’t think like the others.’

‘So why the hesitation, Savvine?’

His intonation cracked like lightning, eyes burning. ‘Am I too rough, savage, or lycan to ever be good enough for you?’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Oh, naam , but it is.’ He spoke in a bitter growl. ‘You pure race human girls always mean it. You want the thrill. The edge. Until we ruin your picture-perfect future.’

Her jaw clenched. ‘It’s a lot, happening so fast. I’ve been torn from my family and - .’

‘You sought temporary comfort in a shifter. Is that why the hell you’re here?’ he growled. ‘Did you kiss me, sleep in my bed, let me mark you all so you could feel a little better at the expense of my feelings?’

‘Maybe I did at the start because you intrigued me, fascinated me!’ she snapped. ‘I didn’t think I’d start to care for you, but I do, and it’s overwhelming me.’

Xander leaned away from her, his chest heaving.

‘I’m asking for space,’ she whispered. ‘That’s all.’

He tilted his head, hands crossed over his rising torso for a long beat. ‘Then fokkin’ take it.’

With a snarl, he pivoted with a snarling curse and hit his comm.

‘Miral.’

‘ Fokk ,’ Xander muttered. ‘You’re responding now?’

‘ Naam , Commander,’ came the cool reply.

‘I need you to organize a private suite for Savvine. Get her a new room. Make sure it’s secure. Patch the map to it and entry protocols to her neural node.’

‘Copy.’

He turned back to Savvine with a bitter twist to his lips. ‘Satisfied?’

‘ Sante ,’ she whispered and spun away before she crumbled.

She headed for the door, which unlocked at his behest.

She pushed through it, not quite seeing the way ahead.

Still, she stumbled on.

Her heart broke, remembering the sorrow on his face that was far more devastating than anything else in their heated exchange.

XANDER

The Signet CO stood in the center of his office, the door hissing shut behind her like the final note of a requiem.

The sudden, damning silence crashed over him, highlighting his sudden and agonizing loneliness.

He sat with a heavy thump in his chair and stared blankly at the stack of unread reports on his commtab, not seeing a word.

The silence in the room roared louder than any battlefield.

Her scent still lingered in the air, subtle spice, as did the memory of her skin against his, and his need for her.

He ran a hand over his face, jaw clenched so tight it ached.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her; he’d simply spoken from the heart. Granted, assuming she wanted the same things as he did was presumptuous.

But fokk , she’d come at him with her fire, and he’d matched it with his own. Always a bad idea when two storm fronts collided.

He turned to pour himself a stiff, dark, punishing drink and downed a tot of his favorite bourbon.

He exhaled and, with a curse, he dragged both hands through his hair and turned in a slow circle. As if expecting something in the room to give him a fokkin ’ answer.

Nothing did.

He let out a short, guttural snarl and slammed his palm into the edge of his desk. The heavy dura-steel creaked beneath the blow. A few holos flickered. He didn’t care.

Fokkinhellshit.

She wanted space.

His chest rose and fell too fast, too hard, every breath like heat against cracked bones.

He jolted as her scent, still lingering in the air, hit his nostrils.

Her utterances still rang in his skull, each a needle in his spectral and human flesh.

‘You’re not the kind of man I’d typically bring home.’

That one carved and twisted under his ribcage the hardest.

Xander paced, fist clenched, heart pounding.

He couldn’t recall the last time he ever lost control like that.

Neither when someone cut him open with so few words.

He lurched, remembering how her usually smoke and velvet voice had turned to steel and fire.

Fokk , it wrecked him.

He hadn’t even realized how much claiming her meant to him until she ripped herself away.

The worst part? The shattered expression on her face as she left.

He had not tried to stop her, nor had he fought for her.

Because what was the point?

He was the criminal, an untouchable, a man with blood and ruin in his past.

She was, in effect, Bianchi royalty who probably would have a husband lined up in no time, one who was pure and not blemished with tainted nucleic cells.

She deserved more. Better. Not a half-redeemed shifter ex-con playing at command.

Xander leaned forward, bracing both hands on the desk, head hanging.

Broken.