The afternoon sun bore down on the training yard, casting sharp shadows as Ronan led the younger recruits through tactical drills.
His voice carried across the space—calm, commanding, every word clipped with precision.
Evelyn sat with the women near the sidelines, pretending to sip her iced tea as her gaze locked on him.
God, he was a sight.
His shirt clung to his back, soaked from the workout, muscles shifting with every calculated move. He moved like a predator—controlled, powerful, untouchable.
She pressed her thighs together, trying to ignore the heat coiling in her belly.
It wasn’t fair.
No man had the right to look that good while barking orders and tossing around weapons like it was just another Tuesday.
The other women noticed too.
Remy sat beside her, watching with a smir
