Chapter 16

Puffer in hand, I crawled my way back to the building. Using the walls and furniture to steady myself, I headed to my room. The air fresheners in the dorm had once only been a tickle at the back of my throat, now created an inferno.

Stumbling my way down the hall, I finally reached the relative comfort of my room.

My door closed with a snick, and I collapsed onto the bed, tossing the clothes I'd carted along with me onto the floor. I'd been so stupid to think I could be normal. Staring at the popcorn ceiling, I tried to imagine what Syl had made of my sudden departure. Had she been affected, or was this just another day for her? Cast off by one, off to find another. I squeezed my eyes shut at an assault of images. Syl being railed against a tree. Syl being chased through the woods by another wolf—that asshole plowing her in the shower before I'd stepped in and taken her myself.

Who would want me?

I'd been so sure of my plan to come here and meet Syl. Certain I would know what to do when I found her. But now that I had, and with my own inadequacies so painfully on display, what happened next?

She was a pack breeder, chosen for her genetics and aptitude to bear a new generation of wolves. It was one of the highest honours the pack could bestow.

Then there was me.

Even my family hated me, and the pack? Oh sure, we were all valuable. We all had our place, but those places were far from equal. Mine had been the worst of them—forced to watch and monitor the breeders in a position I was told held so much honour.

I was helping to ensure the breeding went okay, that everyone was safe. Thus maximizing a chance of pregnancy and contributing to the new generation the only way I could.

But then there had been Syl, the fucking angel I was supposed to watch from afar but never, never touch. I'd said fuck you to the system, but Syl? I couldn't dismiss her as easily.

My presence here—my name, my file—was a lie meant to fool the higher-ups, but I was also lying to Syl. Making her believe I was something I wasn't. The crushing sensation in my chest from the weight of my faulty lungs inflating was a reminder of why I'd never be anything but her watcher.

Sleep wrapped my mind in comforting fuzz, and I pulled myself more fully onto the bed before darkness creeped into the edges of my vision. My exhausted body needed rest to recover, but my heart needed a lot more than that.

Where the fuck was Bash?

I'd meandered around on my way back, avoiding crossing paths with any of the other wolves, and when I'd come back to the starting line, I'd gotten dressed and sat against the red brick of our building, waiting for the others to return.

One by one, they emerged from the woods. Some still in their wolf form and others as humans. No one came to speak to me. I'd become the loner.

My eyes caught on Melanie with her arms wrapped around the waist of someone I couldn't see. Scarcely willing to breathe, I watched until I could ascertain the man wasn't Bash. She was smiling up at him. Her soft brown hair flowed across her shoulders in waves. Looked to me like they were pretty cozy, which hopefully meant Bash hadn't left me to go fuck her.

Jace wandered in, entirely human and obviously alone. I almost felt sorry for him as he walked across the field, his arms swinging at his sides and brow furrowed. Carter emerged next, an arm around a tall blonde who exceeded his height by a couple of inches. He grinned at her, and she smiled back shyly. I wondered if he'd used the spikes on her yet.

I waited, but still no one acknowledged me. Of all the guys there who'd fucked me in various holes and used me like a fuckdoll, Jace was the one to saunter over. Now fully clothed in a grey tracksuit, he leaned up against the wall next to me. I guess it made sense. There was something new about him. It was in the way he carried himself–his shoulders slumped forward–and it set him apart as surely as it did me. We were loners together.

At first, he lounged beside me, content to let the comfortable silence between us speak for itself.

"You okay?"

Fuck. Even Jace could tell something was wrong with me. I pressed my cool hands to my cheeks nervously, trying to clear any lingering flush from crying earlier.

"Fine."

He chuckled, giving me a conspiratorial wink. "Sure, sure."

"What do you care?" I sneered, regretting my tone almost instantly. At least Jace had thought to ask, to approach me when everyone else was chatting with each other, and acting like I didn't exist. Clearing my throat, I tempered my tone. "I'm okay. Just something in the woods."

"Something with that Bash guy?"

My eyes shot to his. How the fuck did he know about Bash? Right. He'd walked in and found me there in his room.

"Yes." My words came out in a whisper, and I dropped my head back to the brick behind me.

"You know that shit's dangerous, Syl."

Dangerous. Jace the Player was going to lecture me about guarding my feelings? Then again, who better than the man who had first showed me the trouble they could cause if misplaced? There was no denying the truth to his words, but I didn't know how to answer. I lapsed into silence, watching a hawk soar across the field, hunting for prey in the grass not tall enough to conceal it.

Jace didn't say another word, but I was oddly grateful for his presence. The sight of him didn't offend me nearly as much when Carter announced we could return, and I stood to go inside. He felt almost like a friend, despite our past, and I couldn't help smiling when he opened the door with one hand and gestured me inside.

"You know I'm not going to fuck you ever again, right? No matter how many doors you open?"

Jace grinned, bowing his head and making a flourish with his free hand.

"Message received, my lady."

With a snort, I headed inside, eager for the quiet of my room and my designs. To lose myself in the work and dream of one day having the fabrics I needed to make a ballgown.

I was sure Bash had chosen to stay in the woods longer, my mind whispering that he was otherwise preoccupied and not yet ready to return. There must've been another she-wolf missing who I hadn't remembered joining us. But he still didn't appear as I made a quick salad in the kitchen or when I lingered to play foosball with Jace, who kindly stuck by my side to warn other men off with his presence.

No, there was no Bash to be found. I retired to my room, sick with worry that his beautiful obsession with me and my body had easily transferred to a new target, and I wouldn't see him again. I wandered past my door to pause at his, hand raised in the air.

Did I dare knock? I didn't think he could've slipped past me, but if there was a chance he had, then maybe I'd have a chance to read his face and know where we stood.

Firming up my resolve, I knocked twice but heard no reply. Even with an ear pressed to the thick wood, the sounds inside were too muffled. I didn't hear a thing.

Sighing, I returned to my room, pulling out my magazines and the extra paper I kept in the bottom drawer. Who would I dress today? Melanie came to mind with that gorgeous hair of hers, so light it framed her heart-shaped face like a halo. She'd need something to draw the eye to her exquisite waist and away from the broadness of her shoulders. I sketched out a poor excuse for her figure and set to dressing it.

I'd give her long sleeves with flowing cuffs extending almost to her fingertips to highlight her petite hands. The cut of her dress would go low, exposing the tanned skin of her chest down to her waist where I would secure it with a rhinestone belt, like the one on page fifty-three of Chamel.

She looked pretty, but not perfect, and I hated the way I couldn't draw out the vision in my head. My hand was an alien thing, moving in every direction but the one I wanted, leading to jagged lines and uneven shapes. Unable to match the perfection I tried to recreate. Thoughts of drawing carried me back to Bash, and I slammed the pencil down on my nightstand.

He could draw. But would he teach me? Could I be taught? My mind was swimming just thinking about being able to do my designs justice. I found myself on my feet, about to go to him, when I remembered I had no idea where he was or who he was with. He could be in his room, yes, or he could be behind one of the other silent doors with a different breeding female. With a huff of frustration, I sat back down on my bed, deciding to flip through my magazines again for inspiration instead of trying to draw another sketch.

Oh well. Melanie would've looked gorgeous in my dress, and I retrieved the sketch and pencil, intending to add a lace brocade to her sleeve cuffs. The tight bodice and flare would complement her perfectly. She'd be stunning. Too bad I would never make it, and she'd never wear it. Just another bit of disappointment to sour my day. I drew X's over her eyes and scribbled out my terrible rendition of her face. She was clearly attached to the guy she'd walked out of the woods with. So, why did I feel a burst of jealousy whenever I thought of the sweet brunette?

No reason. just Bash playing with my mind again.

This was ludicrous. I barely knew him. Sighing, I pulled out a fresh piece of paper and sketched him out. Tall and lean with muscular arms and broad shoulders. His waist cutting down sharply in a V. He'd look spectacular in a suit, I decided. One left open intentionally with a cummerbund in dark blue to match his eyes. With a bit of playfulness, I gave him a grin, imagining him loving the three-piece suit I'd prepared for him.

Mm-hmm.

Bash, where'd you disappear to?I asked the figure, half expecting a response.

He really had done a number on my head.

I didn't know how long I'd slept, but I woke up stiff as hell, my joints creaking as I sat up at the edge of the bed and took a proper deep breath. The lingering effects of the attack had dissipated, leaving me with a manageable wheeze I could easily avoid by taking shallower breaths. What I needed was to avoid going for runs, but with them required every damned day, I couldn't see how that would be an option.

One thing was for sure, I wouldn't be chasing down Syl anytime soon.

"Fuck!" I shouted into the room, slamming my fist down into the covers. First my mess up with Jace, then I abandoned her after hunting her down. So full of lust I had barely noticed the attack creeping up until I was too far gone to stop it, and now I'd have to disappoint her again, to somehow skirt the rules of the run and sit it out.

But sitting it out when Syl was somewhere in the woods, hunted by a pack of horny wolves, was not something I could tolerate. With a growl, I took a handful of coverlet and twisted, wanting to break something, anything.

My eyes drifted to the battered doorknob I'd first noticed when I'd arrived. I imagined the previous occupant consumed with the same frustration I was, compelled to act out on something in this torture chamber, to leave a mark on this place that had left a mark on him.

But I didn't need to be in here any longer. My lungs were better, if not yet fully healed, and Syl was waiting. I stood up and the blood rushed to my head, leaving me dizzy. I sat down hard. Fuck. Guess I was staying put for a while longer. I eased myself back down, counting the seconds until I could go out into the common room again and find my girl.

I just hoped she'd wait for me.

Sleep claimed me, and I must've been out for a long time because I woke up starving. My energy had returned, and I tested sitting and then standing, pleased when neither made me dizzy. I slipped on the first clothes I found in my drawer, a pair of black sweats and a grey cotton t-shirt, and took a few tentative steps.

Good. I could go back out to the common area and find Syl, make sure everything was okay between us after I'd left her dripping with arousal in the woods.

It must've been pretty late because the common room was empty. Even the kitchen was sleeping, the normally obnoxiously loud slamming of cabinets and oil sizzling absent. Instead, the TV was on low volume, and there she was.

Fuck, she was beautiful. The TV cast an ethereal light across her delicate bone structure, emphasizing the angles and making her seem more mature. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were open and fixed on the screen like a doll propped up and made to stare at a blank wall. The long pants and loose tank top looked like pajamas, and I wondered if she'd been unable to sleep. Even her features were devoid of emotion. I stepped out into the open, and her gaze shifted to mine, locking on it in an instant.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Anger coated her words with a sharp edge I hadn't heard from Syl, and I paused to study her. I guess we were doing this. Jaw tightly set and brows puckered, Syl stared accusingly at me. I had no idea what to say. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Shit. You'd think I would've come up with a clever excuse for leaving her in the woods, but my first thought each time I'd awakened had been seeing her. I sighed, leaning back against the wall and studying an air freshener on the ceiling. At least the lights were low, and I didn't have to dodge the cameras.

"Sorry." Maybe not the best apology, but there was no way for me to elaborate without outing myself.

Sorry Syl, I'm really a defective watcher who snuck into the breeding program, and I really wanted to fuck you in the woods, but I'm not supposed to run, and I almost died from an asthma attack.

Yeah, fucking right.

The air was thick with silence, and I hazarded a glance at Syl. She stared at me, her beautiful eyes wide with confusion and outrage.

"Sorry? Bash, where the fuck have you been? It's been a full day since the run. Did you have someone else in your room, is that it?" Her voice squeaked, and it was my turn to stare at her in astonishment.

With an outstretched hand, I approached her.

"Syl, I—"

But she stood in a flurry, turning away from me and moving around the other side of the couch, her hair blocking her face as she shook her head furiously.

"You know what? I don't even want to hear it. It's good to see you. Goodnight, Bash."

She stormed off, skirting around me like she couldn't stand the idea of accidentally touching my arm.

I'd fucked it up, and I let myself feel the misery of my situation as I flopped down on the couch Syl had vacated, hoping the feeling of warmth she'd left behind would somehow soothe the ache I felt for her.

No sooner had I turned my attention to the television program Syl was watching than she stormed her way back into the room, stopping to stand in front of me with her finger leveled at my face.

"You will never disappear on me again," she demanded, and I gave a shaky nod. "Never," she reiterated, leaning in, her finger inches from my nose.

"N-never," I stuttered, knowing I might if I had another attack but eager to put the run behind us.

She studied my face, and what she found there must've been satisfying because she dropped the finger and a little shudder ran through her body, shaking her shoulders. The movement reminded me of the beautiful way she came for me, and I looked on helplessly, feeling myself hardening as the images swirled to life in my head. Syl naked before me. Syl pressed up against the shower door. Syl clawing at me as she found release.

"Good." She said the word almost to herself, and then she was climbing onto my lap, nuzzling into my neck. I groaned, slipping into the rightness of touching her, my hands coming up to run the length of her smooth back.

"Syl, I don't under—"

She cut off my complaint with her mouth on mine, the wet heat of her tongue making me lose track of whatever the fuck I'd been about to say.

"Sh, I don't want to talk." She was so close. Her lips brushed mine with each word until they were almost incomprehensible to my frazzled brain.

Straddling me, she rose to her knees, pressing my face into her neck. I groaned at the taste of her, peppering kisses along her collarbone. She rubbed herself up and down my hardening length. The friction of her through the thin pants I wore sent a shiver up my spine. My breath came out in pants, my hands moving awkwardly against her back as I encouraged her, feeling like a helpless participant in her able hands.

She sat back down hard, and I grunted, cursing the fabric between us. When I moved to pull down my pants, she grabbed my hands. Obediently, I returned them to her back, holding her at the waist and rubbing circles through her ribbed tank top. I became aware of her staring at me, and I met her gaze, seeing the same lust swirling within her eyes that was surely in mine.

"You want me?"

What the fuck kind of question was that? I gripped her hips and rolled my own, pressing myself against her so she could feel just how badly I wanted her.

"Good."

Good?

I watched in amazement as she climbed off my lap, straightening her shirt—the peaks of her nipples showing through. She cleared her throat before grinning down at me.

"Now you know how it feels."

What? Horrified, I could only stare when she turned with a spring in her step towards the hallway, a hand raised over her head, flicking her fingers.

"I'm going to get some sleep. We'll talk later. Bye."

Then she was gone, disappearing around the bend and leaving me feeling deeply fucked up. I heard a door close and then nothing but silence.

After sitting there for a few minutes with nothing but some stupid animated mouse to keep me company, I found myself laughing out loud. Deep snorting, body shaking laughs that didn't sound quite stable.

Well, shit. She'd shown me, taken her revenge for leaving her out in the woods. No matter how wound up I was, I'd done the same, if not worse, when I'd left her on the forest floor without an explanation.

She'd made her point, and all I could do was salute her for it.

I leaned against the door to my room, breathing hard. Had I just done that? It hadn't been my intention to mess with Bash and leave him like that. I'd barely been able to stop, but something vindictive in me had risen up when he started getting into it. I'd remembered how I'd been at his feet in the woods, begging for him to take me when he decided to run off and disappear on me.

He'd left me in the woods and then in a state of agitation, not knowing if he was hiding out in his room or what had happened to him. I'd had nightmares of him secretly in his room or someone else's. I couldn't help but think that holding up in Bash's room for a few days was exactly what I'd intended to do before Jace had shown up and forced us out.

At least Jace had stuck with me, and as many misgivings as I had about the man, I was grateful for his presence. Whether it was Bash's challenge or Jace's presence, Carter had been watching me from a distance, his dark eyes hugging my figure every chance he got, but he stayed away.

Bash unaccounted for, I'd found it increasingly difficult to sleep. Like a tiny machine inside my body had refused to stop whirring so I could rest. Which was how I'd found myself out in the common room when he came out, his bedhead sexy as hell. Clearly ready to get back to us.

I hadn't wanted to waste time. Hadn't wanted to miss this chance to feel something in this place before I went back to the family compound, but the anger had risen up in me, like it was a living thing I had no control over.

Taking another calming breath, I pressed my back into the cool wood, feeling it keenly through my thin tank top, and hoping it would cool the heat of my body.

It wouldn't. Nothing would except the man I'd left grousing in the other room, but something in me demanded more from him than sex after he'd been such an asshole. Maybe it was silly for me to taunt him, to demand he beg for forgiveness. He could decide at any moment I wasn't worth the effort, that maybe he'd take one of the other girls to ease the pain in his aching cock, but I wanted him to prove himself to me, to show me he cared.

Maybe it was foolish and selfish. I had only this cycle and the next to get pregnant, and here I was moping over Bash. What was worse, I was now passing over an opportunity for sex when The Party Girl was always supposed to be up for anything so long as it got her laid. But I couldn't shake the feeling that Bash was going to be the one to get me pregnant, and I wanted him to work for it.

Yeah, like banging another breeder in the breeding program should be work. No, we were here to party, to drink, and listen to loud music until the inhibitions of even the shiest of us were lowered. That's what a good pack mother would do, and it was what I aimed to be.

No more messing around. I'd lost myself with Bash, and the traitorous organ in my chest agreed. So long as he still wanted me in the morning, I would make myself his.

But when I woke and went straight to the common room to find him sitting in the same damn spot on the couch, grinning and patting a spot beside him, I felt rage burning in my chest. I walked stiff-limbed past him to go get a bowl of cereal.

I wasn't even hungry, and the sugary flakes swam miserably in overpowered milk before I went to perch on the cushion beside him, grateful no one else seemed around save for Jace and Sid playing a game of foosball in the corner. They'd be well out of earshot.

Clearing my throat, I kept my attention on the food, or the illusion of my attention. In truth, I was hyperaware of where Bash sat next to me, the little hairs on my body zeroing in on his presence and threatening to send a jolt of arousal strong enough to make me shiver and spill cold milk on my bare legs.

"We've got a couple of hours before the run."

I turned his words over in my head. Was he asking if I wanted to sleep with him?

"Yes, we do," I replied tightly, the warmth of his arm sliding along the couch behind me.

"So, you designed clothes for fun before coming here. You must've been popular."

I gave him a smile I knew dripped with sadness. Yes, the other girls had wanted me to design them beautiful clothes, and I'd been obsessed with their different figures and looks, crafting outfit after outfit. But they'd taken advantage, demanding more and more from me until my fingers were red from working the needle, and my back ached from poring over fabrics.

Sure, designing clothes had made me popular, but it hadn't made me any friends. If anything, it had set me apart from the others and driven the thought of friendship from their minds. Paired with the strange standoffishness my mother had instilled in me with her torment and I'd grown up lonely.

Sensing my mood, Bash's arm dropped to rest gently across my slumped shoulders.

"Well, I think it's amazing, and I'd love to see some of your work."

I hadn't shown anyone here my work, hadn't wanted to play dress up with a new group of wannabe friends, but Bash? He was watching me with such genuine interest that I couldn't help but smile back. Okay, maybe I would show him.

Just him.

"And I'd like to learn how to draw like you do. I have to draw figures you see and gowns before I can start cutting and sewing. It helps to get those images out of my head and onto a page, but—"

He watched me intently, his eyes drifting down to my mouth occasionally. It was distracting, and then my eyes dropped to his mouth and I was pulled towards it. Imagining the taste of him. How good it would feel to run my tongue along his bottom lip. Even knowing how the fire would consume me when I kissed him, I was helpless.

"But?" he questioned. My eyes shot to his, noting the way he watched me intently.

Shaking my head to dispel the effect he had on me, I tried to remember what we'd been talking about. Right clothes. Drawing. Art.

"But I can't get the figures to look right, and I thought since you know how to draw, maybe you could show me?" I fussed with the spoon, dragging flakes around until they clumped on the side of the bowl in a soggy mesh that didn't look appetizing in the slightest.

"I'd love to help."

I smiled at the cereal, bouncing up from the couch. "All right, I'll go dump this out and let's get started."

"Is it okay if I eat in your room?"

I stared down at him in surprise, and he looked away with a nervous smile.

"Kinda hungry."

"Sure. Grab whatever and come to my room. I'll get us some paper and pens out."

"Pencil."

"Excuse me?"

"We'll start with pencils. Easier to erase our extra line work that way," he said with a wink. Unfolding his long legs, he stood in front of me, his presence nearly overpowering my thought. Taking my shoulders, he dropped a kiss on my forehead. "Be right there."

Navigating around the kitchen while avoiding the camera was tough. I turned my head like I was talking to someone and pulled open the refrigerator door, quickly blocking my face with the door.

I knew Cam was one of the watchers assigned to Pack Breeders 103C, but he wasn't the primary. Who that would be, I didn't know, and that was the point. Getting Jerry reassigned had ensured the new primary wouldn't be someone I was as familiar with.

Unless they picked Cam. It was a worry I couldn't dwell on. The odds of them selecting Cam out of the ten watchers who switched off with Jerry were slim, but it was possible. The more I thought about that possibility, the deeper I buried my face in the fridge, avoiding any accidental captures by the camera embedded in the cabinet hinges. Cooking would show the side of my face unless I was very careful. Luckily, the guys had cooked up a whole turkey at some point, and I snagged a meaty drumstick.

Not bothering with a plate, I turned my head again as I closed the fridge door and hurried down the hall to Syl's room, tilting my face the other way as I passed the camera pointed at the common space.

Inside her room, I found Syl sitting on her bed with a paper and pencil on the nightstand beside her and another on her lap. That fucking skirt she wore was so short, the paper covered more of her legs than it did. A growl rumbled through my chest, and I coughed to disguise it, looking away when her cornflower blue eyes shot up to mine.

I wasn't here to ravage her. I was here to help her with her drawing.

To support her passion.

Except I was painfully hard as I sat down beside her. My cock twitching as the bed dipped from my weight and her breasts jiggled at the movement. That little tinkling laugh did all kinds of things to me, and I avoided her eyes. Not wanting her to think I'd come here to ignore her request and ravage her body the way I wanted to.

And I did. I wanted to suck, lick, bite every bit of exposed flesh and then remove the flimsy spaghetti strapped tank top hanging low on her chest, to get at the bits she dared to cover from me. But instead, I fought for control of myself and took a bite of turkey, chewing the stringy meat so I wouldn't have to say something about Syl's clothes and occupying my hands so I wouldn't rip off her skirt.

"Is that supposed to be lunch?"

Offended, I looked down at the drumstick in my hand. It was a perfectly good lunch. What was she talking about?

"Yes?"

She chuckled. "Don't you ever eat, oh, I don't know—anything other than meat?"

Did I eat a lot of meat? I thought about it. Ever since I'd started training, I'd made protein a philosophy, and it'd done my body and my muscles good.

"I don't see the point."

She giggled, the sound tugging at something in me, and gave my arm a shove. She almost fell back from the force, but I was unmoved.

"The point is, it's good to have some vegetables in your diet. Maybe the occasional carb. You know?"

I didn't know or care. Protein, protein, protein. That was my mantra, and the one that had seen me through the dangerous training regime I'd set for myself.

"Sure, next time you make a bowl of air, I mean salad, you can make me one too."

She laughed, and I looked up to find her wavy hair dancing with the force of it. "I'll hold you to that."

Fucking perfection. I wanted to tangle my fist in the silky strands. Shaking my head to disperse the vision of Syl mad with lust as I twisted my fingers tighter into those ash-blonde strands, I smiled back, hoping my dirty thoughts weren't etched onto my face.

Syl leaned over and began rummaging through her nightstand drawer, putting my willpower to the test as she waved her round ass in my face. My hand clenched so hard on the drumstick, it was a wonder the thing didn't shatter into splinters in my hand. But then she was done, moving to resume her position beside me with a stack of papers in her hands.

"These are some of what I've done. I can't get them to look right or to move right. My designs and fabrics need motion and life." She spoke quickly, and my heart clenched when I noticed her eyes glistening.

The drawings were definitely the work of a beginner, and I swallowed down a lump of half chewed turkey. Wiping a hand on my pants before reaching out and taking the top paper to inspect it. This was important to Syl, and it was something I could help her with.

Unsteady lines completely masked what she was trying to do. The motion she was trying to capture in this drawing was that of a woman walking, but without a good basis for a figure and with such unsteady line work, it was easy to see why Syl was frustrated with what she was producing.

I studied the drawing carefully, trying to think where we should start, and it kept coming back to her lines. When I thought about how I'd learned as a child, it'd been the result of endless practice and determination, of trying and failing over and over until, at last, my lines were straight. The objects and people I was drawing started to emerge from the paper. Each success had fueled me for a hundred more failures, but Syl wasn't like that. She had a purpose. A mission. Reproduce a single image in her head so she could bring it to actual life through cloth and thread. So, what to do with her? How to help?

What she needed was hundreds of small failures, mixed in with some success.

Step one.

"Okay, we're going to start by just practicing your line work until you can draw a steady line without thinking. I'll make the parameters and check your work." I looked down at the paper balanced on her lap. As much as I wanted to stay in Syl's bedroom, this bed wasn't going to work. It'd be better if we had something hard to put behind the paper. Even better if we could use the dining room table. I tried to think of a time I'd seen the large table unused, and I couldn't. Even when I'd been observing Pack 103C through the monitor, it seemed to always be occupied.

"What about late at night?"

I looked up at her in surprise. "At night?"

A small smile rose to her lips, and she looked away. "Yeah, I know the parties go a bit late, but eventually everyone goes to bed."

Yes, they did, and that table was fucking perfect. Smooth across the top and at a great height. Plus, it'd mean extra alone time with Syl until she started letting me back into her bed. I started imagining what else we could use the table for, but I cleared my throat before my fantasy could play out and demand I act on it.

Help. I was here to help her.

"Yes, we could do that. I'm used to staying up late."

After three years of fucked up breeding party schedules, I could sleep whenever and be awake as needed. Late night didn't bother me. Hell, it was so dark in those fucking tiny observation rooms I couldn't tell if it was night or day half the time, anyway.

Giving a nervous cough, I handed her back the paper. She took it with a shy smile, ducking her head as she placed it back in the drawer instead of in the pile with her others.

Had the one I'd chosen been special to her?

Shit. I'd been too busy thinking about her short skirt and unsteady lines. I hadn't spared much thought for the design. She turned back to me with a bit of ash-blonde hair curling over her eye, and I couldn't help it. It was right in front of me. I reached out to tuck it behind her ear, nearly losing it when she shuddered as my fingers grazed the shell.

We both froze, my hand still holding the silky strand. She leaned into me, her eyes hazy and soft with lust. My hand dropped to her jaw, and I brushed a thumb across her plump bottom lip. The things I wanted to do with that lip. Fuck, she was beautiful. She leaned in closer, the sweetness of her warmth so close I could taste it, taste her, and the memory of what it'd been like when our bodies had merged.

But she stood abruptly, leaving me staring at an empty space, my hand dropping uselessly to the coverlet.

"Okay, thanks, Bash. I think it's almost time for the daily run, and you should probably finish eating that." She nodded to the turkey leg still clenched in my other fist, completely forgotten when my body had been consumed with other needs.

She was right, though. It was almost time for our run, and I'd need to figure out a way to keep myself safe through it. Swallowing hard, I nodded, my mind already churning away, coming up with ideas for how I would trick the others into thinking I'd gone for a run with them.

I stood, saluting Syl with the turkey leg.

"See you at the run?" I watched her expression, to gauge how pissed she still was about last time, half expecting her to freeze up at the mention of the upcoming run.

Instead, she smiled shyly, and I loved it. She was so seemingly open with everyone else, but I was starting to see the real Syl. Maybe her sending me away instead of fucking my brains out was a good thing. She hadn't seemed willing to turn anyone down, even when Carter had been hurting her, but here she was smiling and gesturing to the door.

Maybe it was fucked up to take it as a good sign when she was actively kicking me out of her room, but I didn't think things were so simple with Syl.

And if she wanted to wait to take me to her bed again, I'd make sure I was ready for her.