Chapter 161

I signed off on the last of the requisition orders just after sunrise. My eyes burned from reading through half-redacted reports all night, but I didn’t trust anyone else to catch the discrepancies. The Council was a circus, and the wolves still loyal to Richard were busy with containment or spin control. That left the actual war effort to me.

The war chamber smelled like damp concrete, instant coffee, and leather armor left too long in its straps. We’d taken over one of the old barracks near the tunnels, a squat stone building with too few windows and too many secrets. I liked it better than the Council chamber. It didn’t pretend to be civil, it was just maps, arguments, and soldiers who followed orders without needing to be flattered.

“They’re trying to shift again,” said Sergeant Myra, sliding a fresh report across the table. “Three bunkers along the west passage. Same scent profile, synthetic overlay.”

“How long since the last flush?”

“Twelve hours. Two scouts lost. Sabotaged sensors, heat flares, then an ambush.”

My hands curled into fists before I could stop them. “Reroute the east squad. Apply pressure from both flanks. And tell Simon I need another cooldown agent synthesized by nightfall.”

“You’re going again?”

“I’m the only one accelerating the cure just by showing up.”

Myra didn’t argue. She nodded once and moved to relay the orders. No one had questioned my field presence since the last raid. Not even Richard, not that we’d exchanged anything beyond orders since he withheld what mattered most.

I pulled on my gear in the corridor, the air still heavy with damp stone and filtered dust. My thighs ached from yesterday’s sprint, but I moved through it. The heat cure responded faster when I was there. The enzymes in my blood were doing things even Simon didn’t fully understand, and maybe that should have scared me. But lately, it was the only thing I trusted.

The tunnels felt hollow. Iron and ash clung to the walls, and the vibration under my boots synced with my pulse. Four squads moved with me, each quiet, each alert. We breathed together, weapons ready, not a single word wasted.

The ambush came fast. Hollow operatives burst from a false wall, their plated armor already charged with sonic interference. I didn’t hesitate. I struck the first one in the gut and caught his throat before he could fall. My claws were out before I told them to be. My vision sharpened. The blood that hit my tongue tasted like copper and electricity, and something inside me locked into place.

They activated the new pulse tech. I braced against the nearest wall and focused, repeating Simon’s anchoring chant under my breath. The vibration brushed past my skin and slipped away. I moved again, not reacting, just knowing, exact angles, exact depth. My body had stopped guessing.

We cleared the tunnel in five minutes. I crouched beside Teven and pressed my hand to the wound where his serum kit was failing. I felt the chemical shift beneath my palm. Stabilized again. My blood wasn’t just carrying the cure anymore. It was rewriting it.

We burned the nest.

The headache started as soon as I reached the barracks. A low throb at the base of my skull, not from exertion but from too much power compressed in too little space. Nathan waited outside with folded arms and a seal shining on his chest like it still meant something.

“That was reckless.”

“It was effective.”

“You’re burning yourself out.”

“Then tell me to stop.”

He didn’t respond. He just handed me an envelope, unsealed but marked in Richard’s hand.

Council Hall. Tonight.

I didn’t try to hide my grimace. We weren’t speaking, not really. Everything since the revelation had been functional. If it wasn’t about logistics, it didn’t get said.

I showered without registering the heat. My hands twitched through the rinse, not from adrenaline or fear but from something deeper. It wasn’t just the physical shift anymore. It was in my want, in the way I’d begun to crave things I didn’t have the discipline to name. I’d been tight-skinned and restless for weeks, aware of every shift in temperature, every scent of blood. I told myself it was just the transition.

But I was past the threshold.

I dressed in dark, clean layers and boots I could run in. The Council Hall was still and cold when I entered. Empty, except for Richard, who stood at the center with his back to me.

“You didn’t have to come,” he said without turning.

“I didn’t come for you.”

He turned then. His expression unreadable. “You’re not sleeping.”

“Neither are you.”

“They’re calling you the bridge.”

“You should have told me the truth. I had to find out what I was myself.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. He didn’t apologize either.

I crossed the room. Not toward him. Just forward. He tracked every step.

“I’m still not talking to you,” I said. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven anything.”

He took a step closer anyway. “You shouldn’t be here if—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I snapped. “I shouldn’t be here, but I am, and I’m soaking through my fucking underwear just breathing the same air as you. So shut up and get on your knees.”

He froze. Then he dropped.

I shoved his shoulders until he was flat on the cold floor and straddled his face. I didn’t give him time to adjust. I tugged my pants and underwear down and planted myself over his mouth, one hand in his hair, the other braced on the wall behind him.

His tongue met me with hunger. I tried to stay mad, tried to keep the wall up, but the second he sucked my clit into his mouth and groaned like it wrecked him to taste me, my head fell back and I let out a sound I didn’t recognize.

“Don’t—don’t talk,” I managed. “Just… fuck—keep going.”

I rocked against him harder. My anger stayed lit, but my control slipped. I couldn’t stop shaking or gasping every time his tongue circled just right.

“God, you fucking bastard,” I whispered, then moaned so loud it echoed off the chamber walls. “I hate you—I hate—”

And then I came. I clamped around his mouth, riding his face with ragged, broken cries that barely sounded like me.

I didn’t ease off. I kept going until my legs gave out and I slumped forward, bracing myself on the wall, panting hard.

I climbed off and shoved him back. “Lie down. I’m not done.”

He obeyed, jaw slick, lips swollen, eyes dark.

I pulled his pants down the rest of the way and climbed over him, straddling his waist with deliberate slowness. My hand wrapped around his cock, hot and heavy in my grip. I stroked him once, then again, watching his hips twitch.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” I muttered. “I’m still mad at you. I haven’t forgotten what you did.”

I ran the head of his cock through my folds, just enough to coat him, not enough to let him in. He growled under his breath, but I only rocked my hips forward a little, teasing him.

“You feel that?” I said, voice tight. “That’s how wet I am. That’s what you don’t deserve.”

He opened his mouth and I slapped a hand over his chest. “No. Shut up. You don’t get to talk. Just let me use you.”

I lined him up slowly, holding him right at my entrance, then sank down in one smooth motion, moaning low as he stretched me open. I clenched down on him and didn’t move, forcing myself to feel every inch.

His hands found my thighs. I slapped one away.

“I said you don’t get to lead. Mine.”

Then I started moving. My hands braced against his chest, fingernails digging in. I tried to stay in control. I wanted to be cold, dominant, and distant.

But he felt too good. Every thrust made it harder to think, harder to breathe.

I dropped my head forward. “Fuck—don’t you dare finish before me.”

He gritted his teeth. I clenched around him just to see his control snap.

When I came, it wasn’t just a climax, it was surrender. I cried out, back arched, hands fisting the fabric at his chest.

He spilled inside me seconds later.

We didn’t speak.

I climbed off him and dressed quickly. I didn’t look at him.

I waited until I could walk without shaking. Then I headed back to the barracks.