Chapter 14 Nora
Nora
Iwoke slowly, as if surfacing from warm water.
Soft sheets.
Filtered morning light.
A heavy arm across my waist.
Steady breathing at my back.
For one blissful second, I didn’t remember anything except the way Wolf’s lips had felt on my skin, his voice murmuring my name, the way he held me afterward like I was something precious. About the times during the night when his mouth drove me insane, crying out his name.
Then I remembered the shadow outside.
The creak in the hallway.
The camera footage.
But wrapped in Wolf’s arms… nothing felt dangerous.
I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened, pulling me closer until my back settled against his chest. His breath brushed the curve of my shoulder.
“Morning,” he murmured—voice rough, sleep-thick, deeper than usual.
My stomach fluttered. “Morning.”
He didn’t let go.
Didn’t move away.
Just tucked me in closer, like we’d been doing this for years instead of one wild, terrifying, perfect night.
The room was warm. Safe. Quiet.
And for the first time since all of this started, I felt like I could breathe.
After a moment, I rolled gently to face him.
Wolf was lying on his side, hair mussed, lashes dark against his cheek. He looked younger like this. Softer. But still undeniably him—strong jaw, scruff, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth as he looked at me.
“Sleep okay?” he asked.
“Better than I have in weeks,” I said honestly.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Good.”
My gaze fell to his shoulder… and the faint pale scar that curved down toward his collarbone.
My hand moved before I even thought about it—fingertips lightly tracing the mark.
He stiffened—not pulling away, but not used to being touched there.
“Does it hurt?” I asked softly.
“No.”
A beat.
“Not anymore.”
I let my fingers trail lower, pausing at each faded scar—thin lines, one deeper, another faint like smoke. They weren’t disfiguring. They didn’t make him look broken.
They made him look lived-in. Survived.
“Will you tell me about them?” I whispered.
His eyes softened—just a fraction—but enough to show I’d touched something deeper than skin.
He exhaled slowly. “Some of them are from training. Some from missions. One from saving Trigger from himself.”
I smiled a little. “Of course.”
He caught my hand and brought it to his chest, resting it over his heartbeat.
Strong. Solid. Warm.
“This one,” I said quietly, brushing my thumb over a longer scar along his rib, “looks painful.”
“That was a knife,” he said. “Middle East. Years ago.”
My breath hitched. “You could’ve died.”
“Came close.”
He said it like it was just a fact. But there was something else beneath the words—something unspoken.
“You don’t talk about any of this,” I said.
“Most people don’t ask,” he replied. “Or they don’t want the real answer.”
“I do.”
He studied me for a long moment.
Then he lifted my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my fingertips.
“You’re dangerous, Nora,” he murmured. “You make me want to say things I’ve never said out loud.”
My heart clenched at the raw honesty in his voice.
I slid closer until my forehead rested against his. “Maybe you should.”
He let out a soft, rough laugh. “You first.”
I traced the scar on his shoulder again, slow and careful. “You scare me,” I whispered. “Not because of what you’ve done. But because of what I feel.”
His breath caught.
I continued, voice trembling but honest. “Last night… when you went into the hallway… I’ve never been that terrified in my life. I thought—what if he hurts you? What if I lose you before I even get to know you properly?”
Wolf’s jaw flexed, emotion flickering behind his eyes. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“You can’t promise that.”
He brushed his nose along mine. “Maybe not. But I can promise this—if someone threatens you, they’ll have to go through me.”
“And your team,” I added softly.
He smirked. “Them too, I guess.”
I ran a finger down the scar on his chest.
He shivered.
“Nora…” he warned, low, husky.
“What?” I said, pretending innocence. “I’m just touching.”
“Exactly,” he said, voice deepening.
I let my hand linger.
And Wolf leaned in and kissed me—slow, sleepy, intimate, the kind of morning kiss that meant more than anything we’d done last night.
I kissed him back, fingers sliding through his hair—
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
We both froze.
Trigger’s voice bellowed from the porch:
“WOLF! NORA! DON’T BE NAKED—WE COME BEARING COFFEE AND QUESTIONS!”
Wolf groaned into my shoulder. “I swear to God…”
I laughed—breathless, warm, completely smitten.
And Wolf kissed my neck once more before muttering:
“If they interrupted what I think they interrupted, Trigger’s buying lunch for a week.”
“Oh, yes, that’s exactly what they interrupted.”