I couldn’t sleep.

Every shadow outside my window could be a wolf. Every creak of the building could be someone coming for me. I sat on my couch with a baseball bat across my knees until dawn, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin.

By the time my alarm went off at six AM, I’d already been awake for hours.

I got to Knight Industries early, hoping to beat the crowd and maybe catch a few minutes of peace before the day started. The parking garage was nearly empty, just a few cars scattered across the vast concrete expanse.

Christian’s Mercedes was already there.

Of course it was. The man probably lived at the office.

I tried to ignore the way my pulse quickened at the sight of his car, the way my wolf perked up with interest. Last night was a wake-up call. I couldn’t afford to get distracted by whatever was happening between us.

The elevator ride to the Strategic Operations floor felt endless. Every breath I took was saturated with his scent—cedar and leather and something uniquely him that made my wolf whine with need.

He was here. Somewhere in the building. And despite everything his father had told me, despite the threats and warnings and political alliances, I wanted to find him.

Which was exactly why I needed to stay as far away from him as possible.

I made it to my desk without incident, settling into my chair with a cup of coffee that tasted like cardboard. The Blackstone Industries file stared at me from my desk, but I couldn’t focus on the words. Every time I tried to read, my mind wandered to Christian.

Was he thinking about me? Did he smell my presence in the building the way I smelled his?

"Focus, Sophie," I muttered to myself, forcing my attention back to the competitive analysis.

It didn’t work. His scent seemed to grow stronger as the morning progressed, like he was moving through the building, getting closer to my floor. My wolf became increasingly agitated, pacing beneath my skin like a caged animal.

At ten thirty, the elevator dinged.

I didn’t look up from my computer screen, but I didn’t need to. The way my wolf suddenly went alert, the way the very air seemed to thicken with tension, told me everything I needed to know.

Christian Knight had entered the department.

"Morning, everyone," his voice carried across the cubicles, professional and controlled. "I hope you’re all settling in well."

A chorus of "good morning, Mr. Knight" echoed through the space. I kept my eyes glued to my screen, typing random words just to keep my hands busy.

His footsteps moved through the department, stopping at various desks to check on projects. Getting closer. Always closer.

When he stopped behind my chair, I could feel the heat of his presence like a physical thing.

"Miss Turner." His voice was carefully neutral. "How’s the Blackstone analysis coming along?"

"Fine, sir." I didn’t turn around. "I should have preliminary findings ready by this afternoon."

"Excellent." He moved closer, and I caught a hint of his scent—cedar and leather and something darker that made my wolf whimper. "I’d like to review your progress. My office. Eleven thirty."

It wasn’t a request.

"Of course, Mr. Knight."

He moved away, continuing his circuit of the department. But I could still feel his attention on me, like a weight pressing down on my shoulders.

The next hour dragged by. I tried to focus on the competitive analysis, but my mind kept drifting to the upcoming meeting. What did he want? Was this about work, or was it personal?

And why did part of me hope it was personal?

At eleven twenty-five, I gathered my files and headed for the elevator. The ride to the executive floor felt like ascending to my own execution.

Christian’s assistant Sarah looked up as I approached. "He’s waiting for you," she said, her voice carefully neutral.

I knocked on his door, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Come in."

He was standing at the windows when I entered, his back to me, hands clasped behind him. The city sprawled out below, but he didn’t seem to be looking at it.

"Close the door," he said without turning around.

I did, the soft click echoing in the silence.

"Sit."

I perched on the edge of the chair across from his desk, my files clutched in my lap like a shield.

"How are you settling in?" he asked, finally turning to face me.

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

I looked up at him, and the intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. "What do you want, Christian?"

"Mr. Knight," he corrected, but there was no heat in it. "In this office, I’m Mr. Knight."

"Fine. What do you want, Mr. Knight?"

He moved closer, coming around the desk to lean against it. "I want to know what my father said to you."

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

I stared at him, this powerful man who commanded respect and fear in equal measure. "He told me the truth. About Shadow Ridge Pack. About political alliances. About my place in all of this."

"And what place is that?"

"I don’t have one." The words came out harsher than I intended. "I’m nobody, remember? Just an employee."

Something flickered across his face. "Sophie—"

"Don’t." I stood, pacing to the window. "Don’t make this harder than it already is."

"You think this is easy for me?"