Chapter 12 Kane
Kane
The weights feel lighter than they have in months.
I’m in the Tower gym before dawn, running through my usual lifts with a vigor that startles even me. The ache in my joints is gone. My energy’s clean and sharp, without a trace of that rotten, crawling restlessness that’s been poisoning my body since the Pairing. I’m… cured.
I check my form in the mirror out of habit and it’s perfect, as always. Not a flex, just a fact. I run a tight ship, and that includes my physical form. Thank fuck I’m back on track.
The last few reps burn in the best possible way, sweat dripping down my spine as I count them off in my head.
When I finish the set, I return the dumbbells to the rack, roll my neck on my shoulders, and stretch until I feel a satisfying pop.
Sunlight leaks in through the high windows, glinting off the fitness equipment.
At this hour, the gym is always empty, and I can almost pretend the whole city is, too.
I close my eyes and just savor it for a moment.
This is the first time I’ve felt normal since Alpha entered me into his little social experiment.
I didn’t expect a single night of sleep to erase a week of exhaustion, yet here I am, running on all cylinders like I’m fucking twenty-five again.
And it’s not the vitamins or the steroids Dr. Aspen pumped into my veins.
It’s not the gym, or the structure, or even the time alone.
It's her.
I know it; feel it in my bones down to the marrow. My bloodwork came back clean. The meds had all day to take effect, but nothing changed until she wandered into my room last night.
The last thing I expected was for Violet to show up half-naked in my doorway with all that smooth, tan skin on show, looking like a goddamn dream.
I definitely didn’t expect to invite her in, either.
For once, I acted purely on instinct rather than rationalizing every action, and by some miracle, it worked. We both slept.
Only because I shifted to my wolf. It was a cop-out, but I was far too tempted to put her through the mattress in my human form, so it had to be done.
We needed the rest, and it worked like a charm– she curled up against my side like she belonged there.
The entire time, my wolf vibrated on the edge of ecstasy, full of smug satisfaction at finally getting what I’ve been denying him since the Pairing.
The difference in me now is night and day, and I can’t ignore the possibility that Dr. Aspen might’ve been spot on.
Fated mates.
The term tastes sour in my mouth.
I’m a realist– I rely on facts and figures, and I know the odds.
True fated bonds are practically extinct around here, like genetic lottery tickets that no one actually expects to hit.
But then again, it’d be just my luck for fate to finally take an interest in my life at the exact moment it could do the most damage.
I rack the last bar, roll my shoulders, and towel off.
Then I run the scenario through my mind again, because that’s what I do– analyze, adapt, control.
If this is really a fated bond, then why the fuck didn’t I feel it before the Pairing?
Wolves supposedly know instantly. The pull should be impossible to miss.
I replay every interaction I’ve had with Violet, all the way back to the bunker.
The first time I saw her, when she dared to glare at me in the hall.
That initial image of her seared itself into my brain: those bright blue eyes like a storm front that hadn’t broken yet, recklessly defiant and stupidly brave.
My wolf perked up in that moment, stirring in a way I’d never quite felt before.
And again, when she was hauled into the reckoning room. I still remember the way she stood straighter when I asked her about her arm, refusing to show weakness. How it scratched at something inside me I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Neither of those instances felt like this bond does, though, and I didn’t see her again until the full moon when we were Paired.
That’s it.
I freeze, towel halfway to my face, a fresh spike of adrenaline shooting through my veins.
The full moon run.
Pack protocol is strict– wolves are assigned to preserves by rank and status, pack order and geography.
Until last week, I’d never shared a preserve with Violet for the run.
We never crossed paths in wolf form under the full moon.
If we were fated, we never would’ve known it– there was never an opportunity for the bond to snap in before we’d already sealed the deal.
Was fate just waiting for the optimal moment to sucker punch me?
As the pieces slot into place, I don’t know whether to laugh or throw a damn dumbbell through the window. I settle for lobbing the towel across the room instead, then run my hands over my face as the full weight of it settles in.
I’m fifteen years older than her. She’s a wildcard, a walking liability, the antithesis to everything I am.
She can’t follow a direct order to save her life, and according to the digging I’ve done into her background, she has a history of stirring up chaos everywhere she goes.
On paper, the two of us don’t make sense together.
Then again, I suppose fate doesn’t read resumes.
The gym door suddenly swings open, shattering the fragile peace. Two low-level enforcers step in, freezing mid-conversation when they see me.
I lift my chin in acknowledgement, then dart my gaze away as a clear indicator that I’m not up for pleasantries.
They mutter brief greetings anyway, then detour to the treadmill row. I grab my water bottle, take a long pull, and decide I’ve had enough socialization for the day. I barely acknowledge them on my way out of the gym, heading for the elevator.
The ride up is a brief oasis of silence, only the hum of machinery and the distant city to keep me company. I step off on the thirty-second floor, making my way to my apartment door. My unit is east-facing, which means as soon as I open it, I’m greeted by a wash of warm orange morning light.
The aroma of coffee is heavy in the air, tangled with Violet’s signature scent– an intoxicating blend of lemon and peony; both tart and sweet. She’s awake. The wolf inside me perks up and starts salivating, which is just fan-fucking-tastic.
I try to shut it out, not wanting to throw off my morning routine now that I’m finally feeling normal again. My boots scuff against the hardwood as I make my way down the long entry hall, veering into the kitchen for a dose of caffeine.
I’m greeted by the sight of Violet bent over the counter, leaning an elbow against the marble while spooning cereal into her mouth.
She’s wearing the same thin tank top and panties she slept in, the lines of her tattoos vivid in the daylight.
Her hair’s loose, falling in a dark river down her back, the ends grazing the top of her round ass.
I freeze in the entryway, every cell in my body buzzing.
She looks so completely at home in my kitchen that for a split second, I’m thrown by how natural it feels.
By how much I welcome the sight of the gorgeous, infuriating woman eating Lucky Charms on my countertop, legs bare, blue eyes cutting to me the second I enter the room.
And just like that, the glass of my routine shatters.
“You wanna take a picture?” she asks, arching a brow. “It’ll last longer.”
“Put on some fucking clothes,” I grumble, stomping past her toward the coffee pot. I set it to brew before I left– five scoops of grounds for two cups, strong enough to peel paint.
Violet smirks, her sharp gaze tracking me across the room. “I’m at home,” she replies unapologetically. “I’ll wear what I want.”
I grind to a halt in front of the coffee pot, hands curling into fists at my sides when I see the fucking thing’s empty. “Coffee?” I growl, pivoting her way.
She shrugs, licking a drop of milk from her spoon. “I was thirsty.”
I grit my teeth against the urge to snap at her. “You could’ve made another pot, mate,” I say calmly, keeping my tone even despite the way my blood boils.
“Wasn’t expecting you to return, Commander,” she fires back, dunking her spoon into her cereal. “You don’t exactly make a habit of coming here.”
I huff out an irritated breath, pivoting toward the cabinet and yanking it open. “Why else would I have set up the coffee?” I growl as I reach up for the canister of grounds.
“Thought you were trying to be a gentleman after sleeping with me.”
I slam the canister down on the counter, eyes darting to hers. “Sleeping,” I repeat, like it needs clarifying that nothing else occurred.
The corner of her mouth ticks up in a smirk. “That’s what I said.”
I frown back at her, then turn away, going through the motions of making more coffee rather than continuing to engage.
She’s obviously trying to get a rise out of me, and I’ll be damned if I let her do it again.
But even as I tell myself that, aggravation simmers beneath my skin at the way she goes right on eating her cereal, resuming scrolling on her phone like I’m not even in the room.
It’s infuriating. She’s infuriating. And it has everything to do with her drinking my coffee, nothing at all to do with how hard I’m getting at the sight of her half-naked.
That ass is just begging to be spanked into submission.
Fuck.
I set the coffee to brew, then turn to stride over to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing a bottle of water from the shelf. “Do you always walk around in your underwear?” I grumble, flicking a glance in Violet’s direction as I twist the cap off and take a sip.
She drops the spoon into her cereal bowl and straightens, turning to face me fully. “Would you rather I be naked?” she asks, folding her arms and cocking a hip against the counter.
The mental image makes me choke on the sip I’m taking. I hack up a cough, then wipe my mouth off on a forearm, shooting her a glare.
She grins, wide and wicked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”