Jaxon’s POV
The night air hit like a physical thing—cold enough to sting, heavy with the smell of rain that hadn’t fallen yet. I handed Alina a leather jacket that swallowed her whole, and she looked like a kid playing dress-up in my gear. It was f*****g adorable, which meant I was absolutely f****d.
“Where are we going?” she asked, strapping on the helmet I’d handed her. Her grey eyes were bright with curiosity, that defiant spark that had gotten her into trouble since day one.
“Out,” I said, swinging my leg over the bike. “Away from the compound, away from the walls. You need air that doesn’t smell like sweat and testosterone.”
She climbed on behind me, her small hands settling on my waist with surprising familiarity. After weeks of training together, of her body learning to move wit
