Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
NAVIRA
The silence of Navira’s suite felt like a physical presence after the roar of the training facility.
She leaned back against the cool wood of her door and closed her eyes, the day’s energy still buzzing in her veins like a live current.
The image of twenty powerful sea wolf shifters, warriors who could tear her apart in seconds, hanging on her every word and following her drills with ferocious focus—it replayed behind her eyelids.
A laugh, breathless and incredulous, escaped her.
It was better than the podium. The gold medals had been a testament to her own solitary drive, a beautiful, cold weight.
But this coaching job… it was exhilarating beyond measure.
She’d wielded their raw, predatory strength and shaped it into something sharper, more lethal.
This was the missing piece.
Not just coaching, but purpose. Not just winning races, but forging a defense. The hollow ache that had lived in her chest for five years was gone, filled with a fiery, terrifying certainty. This was what she was built for.
But then the euphoria crashed against a cold, sobering wall.
One month.
She only had a month of this. The thought was a punch to the gut. How could she possibly return to timed laps and pep talks for college girls after this? How could she go back to a life that now seemed like a faded version of her real self?
And there was him.
Thalric had watched respectfully from the shadows during her training session, his eyes missing nothing.
He’d given her his warriors, then stepped back and let her command them.
The praise in his low voice afterward had warmed her more than any victory ever had.
Then he’d issued a dinner invitation that felt like a peace offering, not a demand.
He was maintaining the line she’d drawn, even as the impossible pull between them threatened to erase it.
That was the worst part. The void she felt when he wasn’t near. The unsettling rightness that settled in her bones when he was, even across a crowded pool deck. It wasn’t just attraction; it was alignment.
Stop. This is a logistical and emotional nightmare. He’s an alien Alpha on another planet. You have a life on Earth. He’ll break your heart. He’ll have to.
Her traitorous heart whispered a single, damning word: Stay.
Frustrated, she pushed off the door and stalked into the massive bathroom, tearing off her clothes with more force than necessary.
Within seconds, the shower’s spray was a scalding counterpoint to the turmoil in her mind.
She tipped her face up, letting the water hammer her skin, trying to wash away her ridiculous thoughts of staying here, the phantom feel of his hands in her hair, and the salty taste of his kiss.
But a vivid, unbidden fantasy flashed—his hands, those strong, deliberate hands, sliding over her wet skin, pinning her to the tiles, his mouth finding hers with none of yesterday’s tentative exploration, only claiming…
“Stop,” she muttered aloud.
She quickly washed up and climbed out, wrapping herself in a plush towel that smelled of alien flowers.
Her gaze tracked to the massive bed as she left the bathroom.
The idea of a nap was a desperate attempt to shut down her racing mind.
She fell into the impossibly soft bed, naked and wrapping up in the sheets, and let exhaustion drag her under.
Hours later, she woke up disoriented, the room bathed in the deep amber and violet of a Nova Auroran sunset. Panic jolted through her.
Seven o’clock. He’s coming here soon.
She flew into motion. The black dress she pulled from the wardrobe was a mistake—a sleek, sleeveless slip of fabric that clung to every curve and ended mid-thigh. It was a date dress. A seduction dress.
“It’s the nicest thing I packed,” she muttered to her reflection, applying a swift swipe of gloss. The woman staring back had bright, anxious eyes and a flush on her skin.
You’re lying to yourself.
A firm knock sounded at the door, precise and expected. Her heart attempted to vault directly into her throat as she crossed the room to the door. She took one last, steadying breath and opened it.
Thalric filled the doorway. The crisp white shirt was open at the throat, revealing a glimpse of tanned skin and the strong column of his neck.
The dark suit jacket emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and the tailored slacks did nothing to hide the powerful line of his legs.
He looked less like a polished Alpha and more like a man on his night off—devastatingly handsome and quietly dangerous.
His storm-grey eyes swept over her, from the loose waves of her hair down to the strappy black heels. His controlled mask slipped, just for a second. Something hot and predatory flared in his gaze, a look that stripped the dress right off her and left her skin tingling.
“You look beautiful,” he said, the words a low, rough scrape of sound.
The simple compliment landed like a physical touch. “Thank you,” she managed, her own voice breathier than she intended. “So do you. I mean… you look very… handsome.”
The faintest smile touched his mouth. “It’s the jacket.” He offered his arm, a gesture that was both old-fashioned and intensely possessive. “Ready?”
This was dangerous territory. The professional boundary she’d constructed felt as flimsy as tissue paper. Placing her hand on the solid warmth of his forearm was a surrender. The contact sent a jolt up her arm, and the mate bond, that silent, hungry thread between them, hummed in recognition.
“Lead the way,” she said.
He guided her through the estate to the front entrance, his presence a palpable force at her side.
They didn’t speak, but the silence was thick with everything unsaid.
The pull was stronger now, a live wire connecting them, making her hyperaware of every shift of his body and every breath he took.
She was trying her hardest to ignore it, to rationalize it, but this close to him, with the scent of him wrapping around her, it was a losing battle.
A sleek, dark vehicle awaited them outside. He opened the passenger door for her, his hand brushing the small of her back as she slid in—a brief, searing point of contact that she felt through the thin silk of her dress. He closed the door, sealing her inside the enclosed space.
As he rounded the hood to the driver’s side, Navira stared out at the twilight, at the first of Nova Aurora’s twin moons beginning its ascent.
Her body was a riot of exhilaration from the day, anticipation for the future, and a sharp ache for the man who’d managed to short-circuit every logical defense she had.
Minutes later, as they made their way to the restaurant, Navira pressed her forehead closer to the cool glass of the vehicle’s window, desperate to focus on anything other than the man beside her.
The silence between them thrummed with unspoken tension, the mate bond pulling at her like a tide she couldn’t resist.
Thalric’s presence filled the enclosed space—his controlled breathing, the subtle shift of his shoulders as he navigated the coastal road, the intoxicating scent of salt and something uniquely him that made her pulse quicken.
Every fiber of her being wanted to turn toward him, to study the sharp line of his jaw in the moonlight, to reach across the space between them and—
Stop.
She forced herself to catalog the alien beauty outside instead.
The way the smaller blood-orange moon seemed to dance with its larger, yellow companion.
How the purple forests whispered secrets in the evening breeze.
Anything to ignore the magnetic pull drawing her toward the man whose very existence had upended her carefully constructed world.
Time moved strangely—crawling with agonizing slowness one moment, then lurching forward the next. Finally, the vehicle crested a hill, and a stunning coastal restaurant emerged from the cliffside like something from a dream.
“We’re here,” Thalric said, his deep voice cutting through the charged silence.