Adrian’s POV

I shouldn’t have thought about her all day.

I knew better. I knew what she did to me—how a single memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at me like I was something more than an Alpha holding himself together, could shake every wall I’d spent years building.

But no matter how hard I tried, Sienna lived in every corner of my mind.

My wolf didn’t help.

If anything, he made it worse—pacing, restless, repeating the same truth I refused to acknowledge:

She’s ours.

By nightfall, my steps were already carrying me back to her apartment, even though Ethan was away and I knew being alone with her was dangerous. Reckless. A temptation no part of me was strong enough to resist.

She opened the door before I knocked. Not surprised—just quietly aware.

“You again,” she murmured, soft and certain, as if she already knew I would come.

I should have turned around. I should have kept my distance.

Instead, I said, “I… needed to see you.”

Her eyes warmed, something gentle flickering there. “I thought so.”

She stepped aside, letting me in. The moment I crossed her doorway, my wolf stretched beneath my skin, hungry for a closeness I wasn’t allowed to want. She moved around her apartment with casual confidence—making tea, humming lightly, unaware of how every tiny gesture tightened something inside my chest.

“You’re tense,” she said suddenly, without turning. “You can’t hide it from me, Adrian.”

She always said my name like it meant something.

“I’m fine,” I lied, though the storm inside me was anything but.

She faced me, leaning against the counter with quiet certainty. Her gaze held mine—not demanding, not pushing, just… seeing.

“You’re not fine,” she whispered. “I feel it. And I know you feel this too.”

The words hit deeper than she realized.

Because she was right.

There was a pull between us—a magnetic, forbidden gravity that had been growing for months. She felt it. I felt it. My wolf lived for it.

“You don’t know the risk,” I said, voice low, steady, but wrapped in a warning I barely believed in anymore.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back.

Instead, she tilted her chin up, eyes dark with quiet challenge.

“Maybe I like danger,” she whispered. “Maybe I like you.”

My pulse stumbled.

My wolf roared.

My control cracked.

The space between us hummed—alive, charged, impossible. One move from either of us and every restraint I still clung to would shatter.

I forced myself to step back, chest tight, jaw rigid, fighting instincts that had already decided she was mine. The line between us still existed… but barely.

And she knew it.

She watched me with a calm that both grounded and wrecked me. She wasn’t pushing. She wasn’t manipulating. She simply existed—soft, warm, unguarded—and my entire world rearranged itself around her presence.

“I should go,” I said, even though every part of me wanted to stay.

Her lips parted, a faint ache in her eyes. “You always leave right when it gets real.”

That truth nearly undid me.

I left anyway—because staying would mean surrender.

And I knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that the next time we were alone, the last thread of my control might finally snap.

And once it did…

I wouldn’t be able to walk away.

Not from her.

Not ever.

I made it three steps from her door before I stopped.

The night air hit my lungs like ice, sharp enough to clear my head for half a second—but not enough to calm the storm clawing through me. My wolf was pacing, furious, restless, growling his disapproval at the distance I’d forced between us.

Go back.

She’s ours.

Stop running.

I clenched my jaw, shoving the command down.

I couldn’t go back.

Not when my control was already crumbling.

I walked to my car, hands tight on the steering wheel, breathing slow and steady like it would somehow cage the chaos inside me. But the second I closed my eyes, all I saw was her—the way she’d looked at me, soft and unafraid… the way she’d whispered that maybe she liked danger.

She didn’t understand the depth of the danger she was flirting with.

Or maybe she did, and that was the problem.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Ethan:

“Don’t wait up. Running late.”

My pulse kicked.

Great.

Even more time alone with my thoughts.

More time to lose the battle I’d been fighting since the moment Sienna stepped into my life.

I started the car, but I didn’t drive. I just sat there, staring at her building like a fool caught between sanity and instinct. My wolf was still pacing, still growling in the back of my mind, still ready to tear down every rule I lived by.

And then her light flickered on again.

A silhouette moved across the window—hers.

She wasn’t pacing. She wasn’t doing her normal restless routine.

She was sitting on the couch…

knees pulled to her chest…

hugging a blanket around herself…

like she was waiting.

For me.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until it strained. A pressure built in my chest—something raw, protective, possessive.

I should leave.

I should drive away and put distance between us.

But she lifted her head.

And even from this distance, even through the window’s glare, I felt it—

that same invisible pull that had been choking me all night.

Come back.

Don’t leave.

Stay.

I swallowed hard.

Control slipped another inch.

Before I could stop myself, my door was opening.

My feet hit the pavement.

And I was walking back toward her building, pulled by something stronger than reason, stronger than rules, stronger than the promises I’d made to myself.

I wasn’t supposed to go back.

But I did.

I climbed the stairs.

Stopped at her door.

Lifted my hand.

And right before I knocked—

The door swung open.

Sienna stood there, breathless, as if she’d been waiting for the exact moment I returned.

Her eyes softened.

“Adrian…” she whispered. Not surprised. Not confused.

Just certain.

Like she knew I’d come back.

Like she had felt it too.

And just like that—

the last thread of my restraint snapped.

Sienna’s breath hitched when she saw me standing in her doorway.

For a second, neither of us moved.

The hallway felt too small, the air too charged, the pull between us too strong to pretend it wasn’t real anymore. Her fingers trembled slightly on the doorframe, and my wolf surged forward at the sight—concern mixing with something far darker.

“Adrian…” she whispered, voice barely steady. “Why did you come back?”

I should have stepped away.

I should have created distance.

I should have said something safe.

Instead, the truth slipped out—quiet, raw, uncontrollable.

“Because I can’t stay away from you.”

Her lips parted in a soft inhale—surprised, shaken… hopeful.

And just as I took a step inside, drawn to her warmth, her scent, the way she looked at me like she felt the same pull—

A deep, guttural growl echoed from somewhere behind her apartment.

Not mine.

Not hers.

Something else.

Something in her home.

Sienna froze.

I felt my wolf rise instantly, claws scraping at the edge of my control.

“Who’s here?” I asked, my voice dropping into an Alpha tone I hadn’t used in years.

She swallowed, eyes wide.

“I… I thought I was alone.”

Another growl.

Closer this time.

Instinct tore through me.

I moved past her, shoulders tense, every sense locked onto the sound—

And just as I crossed the threshold—

A shadow lunged out of the darkness.