Ava’s face went scarlet.
“I have to go,” she said into the phone, and hung up on Chloe’s spluttering before she could get another word out.
“That was rude.” Damon crossed the room in three easy strides.
“Hanging up on your friend.”
“That was your fault.” She clutched the blanket higher.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” He caught the edge of the blanket and tugged, and she held on, and for a moment they were locked in a ridiculous, breathless tug-of-war until she felt herself smiling despite everything.
“Ruthless and dangerous,” he mused.
“Is that what they’re saying about your husband?”
“It’s what everyone says about the Alpha King.”
“And yet.” He leaned down, his voice dropping against her ear, warm as the steam curling through the room.
“Here you are.
In my bed.
Telling your friend I’ve been good to you.”
“Damon—” His name came out as half a protest and half something softer, and then his mouth was on hers, unhurried this time, no hunger behind it, just heat and the quiet certainty of a wolf who already knew he’d won.
When he finally pulled back, he simply bent and scooped her up, blanket and all, one arm beneath her knees and the other at her back.
“Damon!
I can walk—”
“You said you were sore.” He carried her toward the bathroom like she weighed nothing, like this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Let your husband take care of it.”
He set her down at the edge of the sunken tub, steam rising off the water, and pressed one last kiss to her bare shoulder before straightening.
“Soak.
I’ll handle breakfast.”
She blinked up at him.
“You cook?”
“You’ll find out.” A rare, real smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Then he was gone, and she was left alone with the heat and the water and a heartbeat that refused to settle.
Later, wrapped in a towel, Ava wiped the fog from the mirror—and groaned.
The marks along her neck were impossible to hide.
Dark, unmistakable, blooming down the side of her throat like he’d meant them to be seen.
In a company full of wolves, a blind she-wolf who’d been on medical leave for a whole year, walking back in with marks like these?
She’d be the office’s prime gossip for the rest of the year.
She could already hear the whispers, could already imagine the scent of speculation curling through the design floor.
She dug through the closet until she found a high-necked knit sweater and pulled it on, tugging the collar up and turning left, then right, checking every angle.
Only when she was certain the marks were hidden—even at conversation distance, even to a wolf’s sharp eyes—did she let out a breath.
Downstairs, the smell hit her first.
Coffee, warm bread, something savory.
Damon stood at the head of the long table, a spread laid out like he’d been at it for an hour.
“Sit,” he said.
“Eat before it gets cold.”
Ava slid into the chair across from him, and something in her chest loosened.
There was sunlight on the table, coffee in her cup, a man who’d carried her to a bath and then cooked her breakfast.
Contract or not, it was warm.
Warmer than anything she’d known in a long time.
She let herself sink into it, just for a moment.
When they finished, Damon walked her to the door.
“Car’s out front,” he said, straightening her collar with an ease that felt far too domestic.
“Driver will take you in.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated, then rose onto her toes and kissed him—quick, light, testing the shape of something new.
Damon’s hand caught the back of her neck before she could pull away, and he kissed her back, deeper, unhurried, until her fingers curled into his shirt.
“Go,” he murmured against her lips, finally releasing her.
“Before I decide you’re too sore for work after all.”
Ava laughed, breathless, and stepped out into the morning light.
The life she’d lost a year ago was waiting.
Her career.
Her name.
Her place in the world.
Today, she was taking it all back.
She was going back to work.
Lumis Architects occupied the twenty-third floor of one of the city’s most prestigious towers—one of the top design firms in the industry, where only the best got in.
Ivy League graduates.
Award-winning designers.
People with serious talent.
Ava had all of it.
She’d won international competitions while still in school and been hired on the spot after her internship.
“Morning, Ava.” Her deskmate leaned in, voice dropping.
“Did you hear?
New hire today.
Word is she’s got Sterling connections.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I looked her up.
Her school’s a joke, portfolio’s mediocre at best.
If she weren’t riding that name, she’d never have made it past the lobby scanner.”
Before Ava could answer, the manager walked in, someone trailing behind him.
“Everyone, quick announcement.” He clapped his hands.
“This is our newest team member, Stella Moore.
She’s joining the design department starting today.
Please make her feel welcome.”
Stella stood beside him in Chanel from head to toe, makeup flawless, smile practiced and sweet.
On her left hand, a massive diamond caught the light.
Her gaze swept the room—and landed on Ava.
Her smile widened.
“Hi, everyone.
I’m Stella Moore.” She said, her voice soft and honeyed.
Ava’s fingers went still on the keyboard.