Combat class always smelled like blood, sweat, and bruised egos.
Today was no different.
We stretched in a wide circle, the training mats scuffed from years of dominance disputes and hormone-fueled takedowns. Professor Keene paced in front of us, already barking instructions like he was prepping us for war instead of gym credit.
“Pairs,” he snapped. “Choose someone who’ll make you bleed. Not someone who’ll hold your hand.”
Tally winked at me. “Guess that’s me, baby.”
I smirked. “You wish.”
We squared up. She was faster than usual, her wolf strength thrumming just beneath the surface from the full moon hangover. But I was sharper. My rage had edge. And lately? It had fangs.
Three minutes later, I had her flat on her back.
She panted, grinning up at me. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“You live on my bad side.”
“Wild,” Professor Keene barked. “Switch. Let’s see how you do against someone with a real challenge.”
I already knew what was coming. He loved doing this—pairing me with some smug guy who thought my lack of a shift made me weak. Someone who’d laugh until I drove their spine into the mat.
But when I turned—Koda was already walking toward me.
Of course he was.
He stopped in front of me, that same half-lazy, half-hungry smirk tugging at his mouth. “You gonna be gentle with me, wild girl?”
I rolled my eyes and adjusted my stance. “Only if you cry first.”
“Oh, I’m definitely gonna make noise.”
My jaw clenched. He didn’t even bother getting into a real fighting stance. Just tilted his head, hands low, like he was inviting me to try.
So I did.
I lunged. Fast, direct—aiming for his center.
He dodged. Effortlessly. Like he’d read my move before I even made it.
“Faster,” he said, sidestepping again. “Come on. You’re not gonna impress me like that.”
“You’re not here to be impressed,” I snapped.
“No?” He grinned. “That why you kissed your boy like a porno in the lunchroom? Didn’t want me thinking you’re available?”
I saw red.
I swung again, feinted low, and this time—landed a hit.
My fist caught his ribs hard enough to make him grunt. Before he could recover, I followed it with a sharp elbow and a sweep that knocked him off balance.
He stumbled, caught himself, and laughed.
“Damn, Wild. If you wanted me on my back, you could’ve just asked.”
I tackled him, momentum driving us to the ground.
I landed on top.
Straddling his hips.
Pinning his wrists.
His breath hitched. Not from pain.
His grin deepened, and he looked up at me with all the confidence of a guy who wasn’t even a little sorry about where we’d ended up.
“You’ve got a thing for dominating, huh?” he said. “Should’ve figured.”
“Maybe I just like shutting up cocky bastards.”
“Oh, sweetheart. There’s easier ways to sit on my face.”
My cheeks flushed hot. “You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re wet,” he said, eyes flicking down between us, “with sweat, I mean. Glistening. Very distracting.”
I narrowed my eyes, leaned in closer. “You think this is a game?”
He twisted suddenly—fast, fluid—and flipped us.
Now he was on top.
His hips pressed between mine. His breath against my cheek.
And his voice, low and wicked, right at my ear. “No, wild girl. I think this is foreplay.”
I should’ve pushed him off.
I should’ve driven my knee into his ribs, twisted my hips, something—anything—other than what I actually did.
Which was freeze.
Because Koda’s face was so close I could count the gold flecks in his eyes. His thigh slotted between mine like it belonged there. And his scent—wild cedar, sun-warmed smoke, and something darker—wrapped around me like a memory I hadn’t made yet.
“Get off,” I said, though it didn’t come out nearly as sharp as I wanted.
“Say please.”
“Koda—”
He rocked his hips, just enough to make me suck in a breath.
Just enough to make me forget where we were.
“That’s not fair,” I whispered, too quiet for anyone else to hear.
His lips barely moved. “Neither was that kiss you gave Boris.”
I stared at him.
His mouth brushed the shell of my ear.
My heart thundered. My body betrayed me completely, arching up into his without permission. I hated the way he made me feel like my skin didn’t belong to me anymore. Like he’d claimed it just by looking.
“Do it,” I said, not sure what I meant—challenge me, kiss me, destroy me.
He leaned in closer, nose grazing mine.
But before anything else could happen—
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Professor Keene’s voice cracked like a whip. “Enough! This is combat, not a damn dry hump.”
A few students laughed. Tally let out a dramatic whoop.
Koda didn’t move for a second.
He just looked at me.
Like he’d already been inside my head. My body. My blood.
Then, finally, he stood. Slow. Smirking. Offering me his hand.
I didn’t take it.
I pushed up on my own, brushing the dust off my legs and avoiding his eyes.
He leaned in once more, just enough for me to feel his breath.
“You can fight me all you want, Wild,” he murmured. “But you already lost.”
And just like that—he walked away.
The second he walked away, I was gone.
I didn’t care that class technically wasn’t over. I didn’t care that I was sweating through my shirt, that my knuckles were bruised, that I could still feel Koda’s breath ghosting over my skin like he’d left a curse behind.
I needed out.
I needed him.
Boots thundered behind me, fast and unrelenting.
“Millie—wait.”
Of course it was Boris.
He caught up just as I hit the end of the hall, but I didn’t give him the chance to speak. I turned and crashed into him, mouth first.
It wasn’t sweet.
It wasn’t careful.
It was a demand.
Teeth clashed. His lips were hot, rough, willing. I kissed him like I needed to prove something—maybe to him, maybe to myself. That this was mine. That I still had a choice.
He growled low, primal, and shoved me against the wall. His hands locked around my waist like he was ready to anchor me there for good.
I gasped, then spotted the supply closet to our left.
Unlocked.
Perfect.
I grabbed his collar, dragged him inside, and slammed the door behind us.
Then it was chaos.
Hands under shirts, mouths on skin, fingers yanking and pulling and gripping like neither of us could get close enough. His tongue traced down my throat as he shoved my leggings down with a single, desperate tug.
“f**k, Millie,” he groaned. “You’re soaked.”
“Then do something about it.”
He didn’t waste a second. He turned me toward the shelves, pressed his chest to my back, and slid two fingers between my legs—deep, firm, right where I needed him.
I let out a broken sound, half a cry, half a curse. My hands braced on the metal shelves as he pumped his fingers faster, his breath ragged at my ear.
“Still shaking,” he muttered.
“Then hold me still.”
He withdrew his hand just long enough to spit in it and stroke himself, and then he was pushing into me in one hard, unforgiving thrust.
I gasped—high and sharp—as he filled me, stretched me, claimed me. He grabbed my hips, slammed into me again, and I felt it everywhere—spine, stomach, teeth.
The shelves rattled. Something clattered to the floor, but I didn’t care.
His body was fire against mine, hips snapping forward, hands gripping me like I might vanish. He wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around my throat, just enough pressure to make my knees go weak.
“You feel that?” he panted. “That’s me. That’s who you belong to.”
“I know,” I choked out, because I needed it—I needed to believe it.
His pace got rougher, messier. I met every thrust like I couldn’t get enough, because maybe I couldn’t. He dragged my shirt up, kissed the sweat between my shoulder blades, then bit down hard enough to make me hiss.
Still, I wanted more. Needed it.
When I came, I came hard—jaw clenched, back arching, nails scraping the metal shelves. He wasn’t far behind. He buried himself deep and let out a sound I felt in my chest—raw and guttural and real.
We stayed tangled like that, pressed against each other in the dark, trying to catch our breath.
But even as his lips found my neck again, even as I curled into the warmth of him, I couldn’t stop thinking about another mouth.
Another pair of hands that hadn’t touched me.
Another pair of eyes that had.
Koda.
He hadn’t laid a single finger on me.
And somehow, that was the most dangerous thing of all.