Jessica’s point of view
“You don’t get to decide that.”
My voice shakes, but I keep my chin up.
The training hall smells of sweat, stone, and heat—my heat.
Charles stands in front of me, bare arms crossed, eyes dark.
Jude is to the side, quiet as a shadow, watching every breath I take.
Charles steps closer.
“Your body already has.”
I moved back.
My heel hits the mat.
I don’t fall.
Not yet.
My skin burns like it knows his name.
Like it wants his hands.
I hate that.
I hate how my wolf stirs and presses against my ribs.
“Say it again,” Jude says softly.
“Say you’re fine.”
“I’m—” My breath breaks.
“I’m fine.”
Charles smiles, slow and sharp.
“Liar.”
He doesn’t touch me.
That’s worse.
His nearness is a weight.
The air feels thick.
My heat rolls through me in waves, warm and deep, making my knees weak.
I clench my hands.
I won’t beg.
I won’t.
“Circle,” Jude says.
I turn.
My steps are uneven.
I feel them behind me—two fires at my back.
Alpha pressure slides over my skin, heavy and sure.
It’s not painful.
It’s a pull.
A command without words.
“Stop,” I whisper.
“Breathe,” Jude answers.
“We won’t cross the line.”
Charles’s voice is lower.
“Unless you fall.”
I hate him for that.
I love him for it too, and the thought scares me.
My heat flares, hot and fast.
My wolf pushes forward, needy and proud.
I bite my lip.
“Again,” Jude says.
I move.
I strike.
My palm hits Charles’s chest.
He doesn’t move.
My arm trembles.
His eyes drop to my mouth.
I feel seen.
Too seen.
“Good,” he says.
“Now hold.”
I will try.
The room tilts.
My heat surges, sweet and sharp.
My breath turns thin.
I smell them—wood and smoke, steel and night.
My body answers before my mind can.
“Jessica,” Jude says, closer now.
“Look at me.”
I do.
His eyes are steady.
Kind.
The pressure eases a little.
I can stand again.
“Say the word,” Jude murmurs.
“And we stop.”
I shake my head.
“No.”
Charles’s jaw tightens.
“Then we guide.”
He steps in.
Still no touch.
His heat brushes mine like a promise.
My skin hums.
My legs soften.
I hate the sound I make—small, broken.
“Easy,” Jude says.
He moves behind me.
I feel his presence like a wall.
Safe.
Strong.
Charles lifts my chin with two fingers.
It’s the first touch.
It sparks.
My breath leaves me in a rush.
“Your heart answers to us,” Charles says.
“Not because we own you.
Because you let it.”
I want to argue.
I can’t.
My body leans into his hand.
My eyes close.
“Open them,” Jude says.
I do.
The room steadies.
Their pressure wraps around me, not crushing, just holding.
My heat curls, less wild, more focused.
It scares me how good that feels.
“Now move,” Charles says.
I step.
I turn.
I strike again.
This time, when my palm meets his chest, he gives—just a little.
Pride blooms in me.
My wolf lifts her head.
“Yes,” Jude breathes.
Heat pulses.
My skin tingles.
I feel alive.
Too alive.
My breath turns fast again.
Charles’s hand slides from my chin to my throat.
Not tight.
Just there.
A claim without words.
My pulse jumps under his fingers.
“Focus,” he says.
Jude’s hands hover at my hips.
He doesn’t touch.
The space is loud.
My body aches for the line to break.
I don’t want it to.
I do.
“Count with me,” Jude says.
“One.”
I inhale.
“Two.”
I exhale.
My heat softens, then spikes again.
I sway.
Charles’s hand tightens a bit.
“Stay.”
I stay. New chapters come out on g.com first.
My legs burn.
My mind clears.
My wolf hums, pleased.
“Good girl,” Charles says, then stills, like he didn’t mean to.
The words sink into me.
Warm.
Deep.
I shiver.
Jude steps in front of me now.
His gaze is gentle, searching.
“Are you here?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then choose,” he says.
“Which pressure?”
I look between them.
My heart pounds.
I shouldn’t choose.
I do.
“Charles,” I say.
The air changes.
Jude nods once, stepping back.
Charles’s hand slides from my throat to my jaw, then to my waist.
He still doesn’t pull me close.
He lets me close the gap.
I do.
My heart sings.
His breath is warm on my cheek.
His scent wraps around me.
I feel steady.
Strong.
Mine.
“Hold it,” he says.
“Don’t fall.”
I nod.
My body trembles.
His thumb presses into my side, firm, grounding.
I breathe through it.
I stand.
A shout echoes outside.
Steel rings.
The hall doors slam open.
“Alpha!” a guard yells.
“They’re inside!”
Charles turns, placing himself in front of me.
Jude moves too, fast and sure.
The pressure lifts, sharp and ready.
My heat crashes back, wild with fear.
“Stay behind us,” Jude says.
I will try.
My knees buckle.
Charles catches me at last, arms hard and warm around me.
My face presses to his chest.
His heart is steady.
“Not now,” he growls at the door.
“Not her.”
The floor shakes.
Wolves howl.
My heat flares, answering the danger like a call.
Charles looks down at me, eyes burning.
“Can you stand?”
I nod, even as the world spins.
Jude’s voice cuts through the noise.
“If they break in, the pressure will spike.”
“And if it does?” I ask.
Charles’s grip tightens.
“Then we won’t stop it.”
The doors splinter.
Light floods in.
My wolf surges forward, hungry and awake.
And I realize—too late—that my heat is no longer waiting to be held.