The dying fire painted shadows across wet stone, each flicker revealing and concealing the cave's depths like secrets half-told. Akira sat rigid near the entrance, every muscle coiled with a tension that had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with the man approaching through the darkness.
Liam moved like smoke—barefoot, shirtless, his wolf-lean body carved from moonlight and want. The sight of him sent heat pooling low in her belly, a betrayal of biology she'd thought frozen beneath twelve thousand winters of solitude.
"Can't sleep?" His voice scraped raw, and she knew—knew—he'd been lying awake thinking of her.
"Watching." The word came out rougher than intended, her throat tight with suppressed need.
He lowered himself beside her, too close, not close enough. His scent—pi
