Chapter 7 - Cora
Cora’s fist hit the punching pad with a satisfying thud, though the effort behind it made her shoulder ache.
She ignored the pain, focusing instead on the rhythm Grayson had drilled into her all morning.
Jab, cross, jab, step back. The movement was simple enough, but the way he barked corrections made it feel like she was training for a prizefight instead of basic survival.
“Your footwork’s sloppy,” he noted, moving the pad slightly to the left. “Again.”
“It’s not sloppy,” she shot back, adjusting her stance. “You’re just picky.”
“Sloppy gets you killed. Again.”
Her jaw ticked as she swung at the pad harder than necessary. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be teaching me self-defense, you could try a little positive reinforcement.”
“You want a pat on the back whenever you punch?” Grayson asked. “I thought you said you wanted to learn.”
“I do,” she muttered as her hands dropped to her sides. “But you could at least pretend like I’m not a total failure.”
“You’re not a failure. You’re untrained. There’s a difference.”
“Wow,” she drawled, rolling her eyes. “I feel so much better now.”
Grayson lowered the pad and stepped so close that Cora had to tilt her head back to look at him. “This isn’t about making you feel better, Cora. It’s about keeping you alive. So unless you want to end up back in Voss’ hands, I suggest you focus.”
The mention of Voss sent a shiver down her spine, but it only stoked the fire in her chest. She glared at him, asking, “You think I’m not focusing? You think I don’t want to be able to protect myself? Maybe if you weren’t breathing down my neck every second, I’d actually be able to concentrate.”
“Maybe if you stopped arguing with me, we’d make progress,” he countered.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she snapped. “Am I not being obedient enough for you?”
Grayson heaved in a breath, and for a moment, she thought he might yell. But instead, he took a long step back. “Take five,” he said, motioning toward the edge of the clearing the pack used as training grounds.
Cora’s fists clenched at her sides, and for a split second, she considered storming off entirely.
But the weight of his words—of the bond tugging at her chest—kept her rooted in place.
With a frustrated huff, she turned and stomped toward the nearest tree, leaning against it as she caught her breath.
The training sessions had been his idea, of course.
After the encounter with the shifter tailing them, he’d insisted she learn how to fight.
At first, she’d agreed because it seemed practical.
Logical, even. But every session turned into a battle of wills, and it was starting to feel like the only thing she was learning was how to tolerate his overbearing attitude.
“Let’s try again,” Grayson said after a few minutes.
She pushed off the tree and made her way back to him. He held up the pad again, and she resumed the drill, throwing punches with renewed force.
“Harder,” he instructed.
“I’m trying,” she snapped, landing another jab.
“Try harder,” he prompted.
The frustration boiled over. She swung again, but this time, something inside her snapped. A wild and unrestrained surge of energy rushed through her, and before she could stop it, her magic exploded outward.
The force sent Grayson stumbling back, and his eyes widened in surprise as he caught his balance. The punching pad flew from his hands, landing several feet away.
Cora froze, and her hands trembled as she stared at him. “I didn’t mean—”
“Relax,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’m fine.”
“I wasn’t trying to do that,” she insisted. “It just…happened.”
“You need to control it.”
“Oh, really? You think I don’t know that?
” she snapped again. “Do you have any idea how hard this is? My magic is just as much a part of me as your wolf is part of you. Imagine, just for one second, how it would feel to lose access to what and who you are? I can feel my magic there, but it’s just out of reach.
It’s shitty enough without you making it worse. ”
“I’m trying to help you,” he told her, stepping closer.
“No, you’re trying to control me, just like everyone else.
You think I don’t see it? The way you hover, the way you bark orders like I’m some soldier in your little black ops team?
I didn’t ask for this,” she continued. “I didn’t ask for the bond, or the training, or for you to bulldoze your way into my life. I didn’t ask for any of it.”
Grayson was silent for a moment before he nodded. “You’re right.”
Cora blinked, stunned into silence by the unexpected response. “Excuse me?”
“You’re right,” he repeated. “I’ve been doing what I always do, what I’m trained to do. I’ve been so focused on the threat that I didn’t stop to consider the effect it was having.”
“I…” Cora paused, searching for the right words. She hadn’t expected him to listen, much less admit she had a point. “Thanks. I guess.”
He inched closer, and her heart skipped a beat as he lifted a hand and gently brushed his fingers along her cheek. The bond hummed low, but it felt different somehow. Softer. Warmer.
“I know this isn’t easy for you. You have every right to be frustrated. Angry, even.” His gaze met hers, and his voice lowered to a gravelly rumble. “But the thought of anything happening to you…”
Without permission, her eyes flitted to his mouth.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked at her like he did.
The way he always did. She knew it was the bond causing it, but at that moment, the reason didn’t matter.
Surrounded by nothing but trees and sky, she didn’t want to fight the pull anymore.
The space between them disappeared, and Cora reached for him.
He was there, steady and sure, and his arms wrapped around her before his lips, claiming hers with a ferocity that stole her breath.
She gave in without hesitation, losing herself to his taste and feel.
The bond tugged hard at her chest, demanding more, and when his tongue grazed hers, a soft moan slipped out.
She felt his sharp intake of breath and the way his fingers curled into her hips. She pressed herself closer, aching for more. Grayson deepened the kiss, nipping her lower lip, and the world around her faded into a haze of warmth and want.
When he backed her into the nearest tree, pinning her against it with his body, she couldn’t suppress a whimper. Her hands slid under his shirt, desperate for more contact, and he growled into the kiss, tracing his tongue over her lower lip again before slipping back into her mouth.
Her hips arched against him, and a growl rumbled through his chest. One of his hands found its way to her thigh, and he hitched her leg up, angling himself closer. The contact made her dizzy with want, and she rocked her hips again.
“Cora,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers as his fingers tightened around her thigh.
She couldn’t reply. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was chase the feeling, the desire, the need. Her skin tingled with each point of contact, and the bond pulsed hard, sending her blood rushing and her thoughts spinning.
He kissed her again, slow and thoroughly. He slipped a hand under the waistband of her leggings. Her body tensed as he inched lower, and a wave of pleasure hit her when his thumb brushed her clit.
His touch grew bolder, sliding deeper, and she gasped as two fingers entered her. Her grip tightened, fisting his shirt as her other hand dug into his shoulder. He set a slow pace, thrusting his fingers in and out, and the pressure started building inside her.
“Oh, god,” she whispered, rocking her hips in time with his strokes.
Just as she was about to tumble over the edge, he withdrew his hand and tugged on her waistband. “Off.”
“Yes,” she agreed, pulling at the leggings.
He helped her shove them down and then dropped to his knees, gripping her thighs and lifting her onto his shoulders. The moment his tongue found her center, she let out a ragged cry. Her hand fisted his hair, pulling hard, and her head fell back against the tree trunk as her body went rigid.
He gripped her hips and teased her, his tongue and lips coaxing the most delicious sensations from her.
She didn’t bother trying to stay quiet. Didn’t bother holding back.
The world fell away until nothing existed except his mouth, his hands, and the way he worked her until she shattered, falling apart under the waves of ecstasy.
Her breath came in gasps and moans, and when her release finally hit, her legs clenched around his shoulders, trembling as the wave crashed over her.
Grayson eased her back to the ground but didn’t let her go. His mouth found her throat, licking and sucking as his fingers returned to tease her sensitive flesh. Another tremor ran through her, and her nails dug into his shoulders.
“God, Cora,” he murmured against her ear. “The way you sound. The way you taste. I could live in you.”
She shuddered and turned her head, capturing his lips. The kiss was rough and desperate, but when she pulled him closer, the snap of a nearby twig was enough to bring her back to her senses.
Grayson froze, and they both turned toward the sound.
When nothing moved, she relaxed and glanced back at him.
This was a bad idea. The bond was a curse and the only reason they were together.
It wasn’t just an emotional tether—it was a physical one, a leash that ensured she couldn’t stray too far without consequences.
If she tried to run, the bond would pull her back or worse, hurt her. She knew that, and yet…
No. She had to stay strong. It was the only way to get through this.
“We should… People might come out here.”
He nodded, stepping back just enough for her to find her leggings and put them on. His eyes lingered on her the entire time, and when she finally finished, he let out a sigh and raked a hand through his hair.
“I should go.”
“Yeah. Right. Um. Okay.” She didn’t move, she didn’t want to move.
“I’ll see you back at the house,” he said after a long, tense moment.
Cora nodded. “Right. I’ll, uh, see you there.”
“Right.”
“You’ll be safe walking back. They’re still patrolling the perimeter,” he added, referring to the pack members Grayson had stationed around Bellefleur for added security. “And if anything happens, I’ll feel it through the bond. Just…don’t push it.”
She didn’t wait for him to say anything else. Her feet started moving, carrying her away, and she didn’t dare look back.
Cora bolted from the clearing as if staying another moment might tether her to something she wasn’t ready to face.
The woods blurred around her, and her thoughts tangled more with every step.
Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out everything except the lingering echo of Grayson’s touch and the heat still simmering under her skin.
She didn’t slow until she reached her apartment, where she slammed the door shut behind her and leaned against it. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she grumbled aloud, though the empty room offered no answers.
Dropping her bag by the door, she crossed to the kitchen and yanked open the fridge, searching for something—anything—that might distract her. A cold bottle of water met her hand, and she twisted off the cap before taking several gulps. It did little to quench the fire still burning in her chest.
She hated this. The bond, the pull, the way her body reacted to him as if it had a mind of its own.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be angry, resentful, ready to claw her way out of whatever magical trap had tied them together.
But now… Now, every time he looked at her, touched her, she felt herself unraveling in ways she couldn’t control.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she flinched as the sound jarred against the silence. She ignored it, knowing without looking who it was. Grayson would want to check in to make sure she’d made it back safely. Of course, he would. That was his whole thing—protecting her, even from herself.
She paced the small kitchen since her restless energy made it impossible to sit still.
The memory of his lips on hers and his hands on her skin replayed in an endless loop in her mind.
The worst part wasn’t the memory itself; it was the way she wanted more.
She hated herself for it, but no amount of pacing, water, or angry muttering could drown out the truth.
The bond was doing this. It had to be.
Finally, exhaustion overtook her, and she collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. “Get it together,” she whispered. “You’re stronger than this.”
***
That night, sleep came fitfully, and her dreams were vivid and taunting.
She was back in the clearing with the trees swaying in a wind she couldn’t feel.
Grayson was there, and his gaze was as intense as ever, but it wasn’t frustration or anger that burned in his eyes—it was something else entirely.
Something that made her breath catch and her pulse race.
In the dream, he reached for her, and this time, she didn’t pull away. His hands cupped her face and drew her closer. The bond hummed low, but it wasn’t intrusive. It was a quiet, thrumming presence that felt almost…right.
She leaned into him, gripping his arms as if afraid he might disappear.
His lips brushed hers, soft and teasing, before claiming her fully.
It wasn’t rushed or frantic like before.
It was slow, tender, and devastating. Heat coursed through her, and she felt herself melting into him as every part of her yielded to the connection.
When she woke, the dream lingered, as real as the sheets twisted around her legs. Her chest heaved, and her heart pounded as if she’d run a marathon. She stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath, but the frustration bubbling inside her wouldn’t be ignored.
“Damn it,” she complained, throwing off the covers and sitting up.
She hated this. She hated how much she felt. Hated that even in her dreams, she couldn’t escape him. Most of all, she hated that some small, traitorous part of her didn’t want to.
Cora pressed her hands to her temples and commanded, “Get out of my head, Grayson.”
The apartment was still and quiet, but she swore she could hear the bond laughing at her.
And why shouldn’t it? He wasn’t going anywhere.
Grayson had made that abundantly clear. Hell, he was living with her in this small space.
No matter how much she wanted to believe she could hold him at arm’s length, she knew deep down that his presence in her life was permanent, inescapable.
That thought sent a fresh wave of frustration rolling through her, because how was she supposed to untangle her feelings when he was always there, always watching, always staying?