CIAN
Fia looked up at me.
Her eyes were wide and dark. Something flickered in them that I could not name.
I withdrew my hand which has been so close to grabbing hers.
"Sorry."
The word came out barely above a whisper.
"It is fine."
My voice was restrained. Too restrained. I was forcing the words through clenched teeth. Fighting every instinct that screamed at me to close the distance between us.
We stood there.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. The water kept running. Steam filled the shower until I could barely see her through it.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
One minute passed.
Maybe two.
Time felt strange. Stretched thin and heavy at the same time.
"You look clean," I said finally because this needed to end before it got even further. There was not much I could take.
I sprayed her lathered hands before lowering the shower head.
The water stopped.
"I should get you a towel."
I stepped out before I did something stupid.
Water dripped from my body onto the tile. I crossed to the cabinet and pulled out a large white towel. It was warm from the heated rack.
I came back.
Wrapped the towel around her carefully. Made sure it covered her completely. Then I tucked it around her shoulders.
"You still have lather on you," she said.
I looked down at myself. At the soap still clinging to my chest and arms.
"Right. Right."
I ran a hand through my wet hair.
"I will help you out first. Then get clean."
She nodded.
I guided her out of the shower. My hand was firm on her elbow. Steadying her as she stepped over the threshold.
"Can you stand?" I asked.
"Yes."
Her voice was stronger now.
"Good."
I released her elbow and stepped back into the shower and closed the glass door between us and turned the water back on.
I needed cold water.
Ice cold.
I kept my hand on the handle for a moment longer than I needed to, knuckles tight, because letting go meant letting her out of my immediate focus and letting the reality of what my body was doing hit me full-force.
The second I turned back to the showerhead I twisted the knob all the way to cold. The pipes groaned and then the water hit me in a brutal silver sheet, a shock that punched the heat right out of my skin. I leaned forward, palms braced on the tile, shoulders hunched as the cold drilled into the back of my neck.
It was necessary. Goddess, it was necessary.
Because the moment my hand left her elbow, the moment her weight wasn’t against me anymore, everything I’d tried to bury while steadying her surged up, thick and unforgiving, my cock already straining, the pulse in it beating with each echo of her voice in my head. That simple yes she’d given me—steady, breathy, recovering—had curled low and hot inside me like a brand.
Cold. Focus on cold. Nothing else.
The water knifed down my spine and I forced myself to breathe through it, long and slow, letting the icy sting smother every image of her bare skin slick from the shower, the way her chest rose when she steadied herself, the faint tremble in her thighs when I’d guided her out. That tremble lived in my hands now, phantom-soft, and it took everything not to shudder at the memory.
I pressed my forehead to the tile. Stayed there. Let the chill crawl over me until my teeth almost clicked.
Anything to hide the hard, urgent pressure beneath my stomach, anything to make sure she didn’t see it when she glanced back even if it was fucking frosted glass, anything to burn the heat out of me before it turned into something reckless and obvious. The cold wasn’t comfort. It was discipline, a bracing plunge meant to drag me out of the molten undertow she left in her wake.
Ice water hammered me in relentless sheets and I pulled it closer to my skin, shoulders shifting under the frigid spray, letting the shock swallow every lingering thought of how her voice had sounded so close to my ear, how small her waist felt under my hand, how easy it would’ve been to—
No. Cold. Only cold.
I stood there until the burn in my muscles replaced the one she’d put under my skin, the cold a shield I clung to, breathing steadier, heartbeat easing, desire forced down into a tight, painful knot that at least no longer threatened to give me away the moment I stepped back out.
My wolf prowled in the back of my mind.
Restless and just as frustrated.
I ignored it.
I had to. I then turned off the water. Grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist before stepping out.
Fia was still standing there. Dripping onto the rug. Clutching the towel around herself. Staring at nothing.
"You should rest," I said as I kept my distance. "You can stay here. I will sleep somewhere else tonight, if I can. I have a lot of work to do."
She turned to look at me.
Her eyes met mine for a brief moment before I glanced away.
"Thank you," she said.
I nodded. There was nothing else to offer.
"Get some sleep."
I walked past her. Into the bedroom. I opened the wardrobe and pulled out a soft shirt and loose cotton shorts. I placed them at the foot of the bed.
"These should fit well enough," I said.
She crossed the room, picked up the clothes, and slipped the shirt over her head. It fell to her thighs. The shorts were loose but stayed in place.
She climbed into the bed without another word.
I turned back to the wardrobe, grabbed something for myself, and dressed fast. Jeans. A plain shirt. Simple.
I headed for the door.
"Cian," she said.
I stopped.
Turned.
"Yes?"
"Are you alright?"
The second one spoke. "Beta Ronan arrived while we were finishing. We felt it was safer to give it to him since he is your right hand."
Of course.
Ronan.
I looked at the cupcake again. A note hid under the wrapper.
I still got you a gift. The depth of my kindness.
A scoff slipped out. Almost a laugh. Almost.
"You can go," I said. "I will get it from him."
They bowed again and left.
I sat at the desk and reached for my phone.
Three missed calls from Ronan.
I had not heard a single one. My head had been full of Fia. Her voice. Her face. The way her body leaned into mine for the briefest moment. The way I tried not to think about any of it.
My wolf stirred.
How long can you pretend you do not want what I want?
"It is not fair on her," I said. "I cannot love her."
My wolf growled, low and stubborn.
"All I feel is lust," I said. "That is what happens when someone avoids everyone for years."
The words felt thin and false.
"Maybe I only need someone random. A warm body. Something simple."
My wolf went quiet.
Too quiet.
I stared at the cupcake. At the neat swirl of pink frosting. At the note tucked beneath it.
Then I called Ronan.
He picked up fast.
"Well. My Alpha finally remembers me."
"I was busy," I said.
"You mean busy on the business you sent me to handle," he said. "A lot went down."
"I know. The Grand Luna."
"And the Luna in your bed. That part is my favorite. I hear you two got very close. Want to tell me how close?"
My jaw locked.
"Bring the phone to technical."
I ended the call.
Dropped my phone on the desk.
Looked at the cupcake again.
And tried not to picture Fia sleeping in my sheets, soft and warm and far too close to the part of me I kept chained.

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