Chapter 17
Kane
The first forty-eight hours after an incident are the most critical.
I know this from decades of cleaning up other people’s messes– standard protocol is to control the variables, isolate the damage, and prevent it from compounding.
That’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the past two days: avoiding the scene of my own crime and the woman I committed it with.
So far, it’s working. Spending restless nights at my lake house, commuting into the city for the daily grind. Distance as discipline. If I don’t see her, this remains contained. It can be reduced to a one-off. An anomaly.
Except anomalies don’t usually feel like the first step in a pattern, and this one does.
Every time I so much as think of Violet, I’m right back there in the elevator, losing control and railing her against the wall like a goddamn savage.
Letting instinct take over where judgment should’ve held the line.
It was a mistake; a breach of discipline I should’ve anticipated and prevented. Violet never consented to our bond. The pull of it puts a strain on both of us, but I’m the one with rank, age, and the responsibility to resist it.
I failed.
I told myself I had it under control, but in that moment, I slipped. I lost all sense of rationality and took advantage of her vulnerability. I let it happen, knowing it shouldn’t.
And because I don’t trust myself not to do it again, the only viable solution is distance.
The problem is, that ‘solution’ has resurrected my issues with my wolf. Once again, I’m barely sleeping, constantly run-down, and foggy in a way that makes every decision feel a half-second slower than it should.
This Pairing is starting to feel like a goddamn death sentence. Still, I’m pushing through, sticking to my regular routine while my wolf eats me alive.
That’s how I end up slumped behind the desk in my office, neck-deep in enforcer reports that only make my headache worse.
It’s the same bullshit over and over– minor issues that shouldn’t even warrant a slap on the wrist, let alone a write-up.
A waste of my fucking time, filed by rookies desperate to make an impression on Alpha.
A knock comes at the door, and my eyes flick to the clock in the corner of my computer monitor. Almost lunchtime. I consider ignoring it, but then a second knock comes louder, more insistent. Whoever it is isn’t going away, so I bark for them to come in.
The door creaks open and Frazier steps over the threshold, immediately dipping his head in submission. The kid is genuinely terrified of me. As he should be.
He clears his throat as he nervously meets my gaze. “Morning, Commander. Do you have a moment?”
“Depends,” I grumble, rubbing at the tension that’s taken up permanent residence between my eyes. “Is this gonna piss me off?”
“Uh, I’m not sure,” he replies, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I’m following up on that… special project you requested.”
I straighten in my chair, snapping to attention. The ‘special project’ I put him on was finding out what club Violet works at. “And?” I ask, arching a brow expectantly.
Frazier shakes his head, his shame calibrated just right. “She’s not on the payroll at any of the nightclubs in the area, pack-affiliated or otherwise. I can dig deeper, but it would help to know what I’m looking for. The type of club, at least, or where–”
“If I knew,” I cut in, “I wouldn’t have asked you to find it.”
He bows his head, face flushing. “Of course. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll keep digging until I do.”
“Get me an answer by the end of the week, or I’ll have to reconsider whether you’re the right fit to be my second,” I murmur, giving him a pointed look.
He blanches and jerks a nod, though it’s an empty threat. Frazier’s a hell of a lot more tolerable than the other try-hards angling to work under me– and, most importantly, I know he isn’t gunning for my rank. He’s the type that craves approval, not power.
I wave a hand in dismissal, swiveling in my chair to take in the skyline beyond the window as Frazier starts backing toward the door.
There’s still a stack of reports demanding my attention, but I can’t focus worth a damn.
Especially now, knowing zero progress has been made in uncovering whatever secrets Violet’s keeping.
I haven’t been able to shake the image of her in the bathroom that night, bloody and bruised.
It cracked something inside me wide open.
I may not have wanted this Pairing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about her safety.
The thought of someone hurting her makes me murderous, and since she won’t tell me who it was or how it happened, I’m left with only one option.
Control the variables. Manage her movements. Know where she is at all times.
“Hey,” I say, stopping Frazier in his tracks as I swivel my chair back around to face him. “Is there still an open office admin position downstairs?”
He nods quickly. “Yes, sir. Interviews are being held on Friday.”
“Cancel them,” I grumble. “I’ll send my mate down to fill it.”
Frazier blinks, recovers, and tips his head. “Understood. Anything else, Commander?”
“No. Dismissed.”
He slips out as silently as he arrived, the door closing behind him with a soft click of the latch.
I try to go back to the reports waiting on my screen, but the text swims in front of my eyes, my mate still on my mind. The thought of her settles under my skin like an itch I can’t scratch– the more I try to ignore it, the more insistent it becomes.
Another knock sounds at my door barely two minutes later, irritation flaring hot.
“Did you forget something?” I snap as the door creaks open, not even bothering to look up.
There’s no answer.
I lift my gaze, and all the air is punched from my lungs in a single, brutal rush, like I’ve taken a hit I never saw coming.
Because it isn’t Frazier standing in my doorway.
It’s Violet.
For a split second, all I can do is stare.
She’s a goddamn vision– dark hair spilling loose down her back, blue eyes bright and wild.
She’s wearing a little pair of denim shorts and a tiny black tank top, every inch of bare skin a dangerous reminder of how easily control slipped through my fingers before.
How easily it could again. And still, one look is all it takes to demolish whatever defenses I had left, my mouth going dry as she steps inside.
Violet knocks the door shut with a hip and leans back against it, folding her arms and lifting her chin in challenge. “We need to talk.”
I clear my throat and shift in my chair. The sound of her voice immediately dredges up the memory of how she sounded coming apart in my arms, thighs tightening around my hips, nails digging into my back. I lock it down fast, forcing the image out of my head as quickly as it entered.
“You know how a door works, mate?” I grumble, schooling my expression into one of detached neutrality. “It’s polite to wait for an answer before barging in.”
She flashes a smile so sweet it’s almost convincing. “I’m not here for etiquette lessons, Commander. I’m here because you ghosted me for two days and I’m not getting any sleep.”
I lift a brow. “And that’s my problem because…?”
Her head tilts, eyes gleaming with something sharp and knowing. “Because you’re not sleeping either.” Her gaze flicks over me, quick and assessing. “You look like shit. How long do you really think you can keep this up?”
Fair point.
I grit my teeth and drum my fingers against the desk, irritation and something more ferocious coiling together in my chest. “So,” I say, voice flat. “What do you suggest, then?”
She pushes off from the door and stalks toward me, dropping into the chair opposite mine like she owns it. “We need to come up with some sort of arrangement,” she quips. “The lake house exile isn’t working for me.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “I prefer the lake. The quiet helps me focus.”
“How’s that going since the Pairing?” she snorts.
I cut her a glare, hands curling into fists atop my thighs. Apparently, sleep deprivation hasn’t dulled that sharp tongue of hers in the slightest.
“Listen,” she sighs, unapologetic. “I don’t give a shit where we sleep, but it needs to be in the same place. Or my wolf’s going to chew a hole straight through my damn skull.”
I frown at her, but I can’t argue with that. I feel it in my bones– the constant gnaw of need that’s only intensified since the last time we touched. My wolf is just as restless as hers, endlessly raging against my restraint, refusing to settle unless she’s near.
I square my shoulders, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I’ll stay here tonight.”
She narrows her eyes, clearly expecting a catch. “That easy, huh?”
I shrug. “Just a minor adjustment to my schedule.”
She leans forward, elbows braced on her knees, gaze sharpening. “What are you hiding out there at the lake, anyway?”
“Could ask you the same,” I reply coolly. “You gonna tell me which club you work at, or do I have to find out myself?”
She bristles, then recovers just as fast, leaning back in her chair and flipping her hair over one shoulder. “It’s none of your concern, Commander. I’m not breaking any pack rules.”
“No,” I murmur. “You’re not. Because as of today, you’re quitting. I got you a job in admin on the third floor. You report first thing tomorrow morning.”
For a second, she just stares at me. Then her mouth drops open, shock snapping quickly into seething rage. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I say, tone clipped. “You’ll be doing secretarial work from eight to four, Monday through Friday. No side gigs, no disappearing at midnight or coming home at two in the morning bloody and bruised. Understood?”
She laughs– loud, sharp, and utterly unimpressed. “You think you can just assign me a job and I’ll smile and agree?”
“Of course,” I deadpan.
“Then you haven’t been paying attention.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, mate,” I grit out.
She cocks her head, gaze narrowing. “Or what? Are you threatening me, Commander?”
“Just stating facts,” I growl. “This isn’t up for debate.”
She pushes up from the chair and rounds the desk in three sharp strides, stopping far too close. “You know what, Kane?” she scoffs, eyes glacial. “Fuck you. I don’t want your job, your money, or your stupid orders. I’m not some rookie enforcer you can push around.”
My wolf surges as I rise to my feet, the space between us evaporating. “Don’t make me bend you over this desk, mate,” I warn, voice rough.
She leans in anyway, blue eyes blazing with defiance, breath warm against my jaw. “Try it,” she bites out. “I dare you.”
I move before the thought even finishes forming, catching her by the wrist and spinning her toward the desk.
Her breath stutters as I bend her over the polished wood, pinning her hips with a firm hand on the small of her back.
She doesn’t fight, doesn’t resist– just looks up at me over her shoulder, lips parted, pupils blown wide.
It’s an invitation if I’ve ever seen one.
The scent of her arousal spikes in the air between us, suffocating my self-restraint. In one fluid motion, I shove her shorts and panties down to her knees, exposing her bare ass. My hand comes down hard on her supple skin, the sound echoing off the walls like a gunshot.
She gasps, the sound half pain, half ecstasy.
“Is this what you want?” I growl, palm smoothing over her blushing skin.
She shivers, back arching. “Yes, Daddy.”
Those words sent a jolt of lust straight to my cock, slicing through my last thread of control. My hand comes down again, this time on her other ass cheek, harder than before. She moans, collapsing forward onto the desk, her breath fogging against the wood.
Fuck.
She’s perfect.
Pliant and responsive, needy and panting.
I can’t take it– I drop to my knees behind her, running my hands up the backs of her thighs, tracing the patterns of ink until my fingers dig into her hips. Her scent is wild, intoxicating, downright irresistible.
I need to taste it.
I lean in, dragging my tongue up the crease of her thigh. She whines, knees buckling when I reach the apex, and I lick into her like a man starved.
“Oh fuck!” she cries out, hips grinding against the desk.
I don’t let up, the taste of her sliding over my tongue like forbidden fruit, a satisfied groan rumbling in my chest. She’s fucking delicious– both sweet and tart, rich and decadent.
I feast on her like it’s the last thing I’ll do, my tongue a relentless, swirling demand against her clit.
The more she unravels, the more I take, drinking in the sounds of her pleasure as they echo off the walls of my office.
She instinctively tries to squirm away, but my grip is an iron brand on her hips, pinning her in place so I can continue devouring her.
I seal my lips over her cit and suck hard, her body going rigid before she shatters with a ragged scream.
A violent tremor wracks her frame, and she comes hard before collapsing onto the desk in a boneless, breathless heap.
I rise slowly, swiping the back of a hand across my mouth as I watch her for a beat, admiring the mess I’ve made. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sweat glistens on her skin as she lies there slack and sated, blissed out of her damn mind, my handprints branded on her ass cheeks.
Slowly, her breathing evens out and she comes back into herself. Her body’s still limp, but when she opens her eyes, that familiar spark of defiance ignites as she glares up at me through her lashes.
I’m so hard it’s fucking painful. I reach down to adjust myself in my slacks, her gaze dropping to track the movement before snapping back up to meet mine.
“Feel like behaving now?” I murmur, cocking a brow.
She pushes herself upright with a soft huff, legs shaking as she bends to drag her shorts and panties back into place. “You didn’t win,” she grits out hoarsely. “You just… distracted me.”
A smirk twists my mouth. “Then get out of my office and we’ll finish this later, mate.”
She flips me off, shoulder-checking me as she barges past to head for the door. “See you at home, Commander,” she quips as she yanks it open.
The door bangs shut behind her, and the sound is like a starting pistol. My own knees give, and I slam a hand down on the desk to stay upright. My pulse is a jackhammer against my ribs, my hands are fucking trembling, and every nerve ending is a live wire.
Another catastrophic mistake. Every second of it.
And I already know I’ll be making it again.