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Zane recoils, his eyes widening in shock. “Did you just…bark at me?”
I grin, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “Sure did, alpha boy. Consider it a warning.”
He stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re something else, Aria.”
“You have no idea,” I reply sweetly, batting my eyelashes. I lean in and lick his neck. Honestly, that one was just for me. “I lick too.”
Zane chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender, but not wiping off my saliva. “All right, all right. I’ll back off with the interrogation…for now.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that escapes. Despite his pushiness, there’s something magnetic about Zane that keeps drawing me in.
We turn our attention back to the competition, watching as the women spar with impressive skill and grace. I find myself getting lost in the fluid movements, the sharp cracks of fists, and smack of feet against pads.
After a particularly intense match, Zane leans over, his breath tickling my ear. “You know, you could be out there. With some training, I bet you’d give these ladies a run for their money.”
I turn to look at Zane, surprised by his words. “Me? Compete in karate? I don’t know…”
Zane’s dark eyes gleam with confidence. “I’m serious, Aria. You have a fighter’s spirit. I can see it in you. With the right guidance, you could be amazing.”
His words send a thrill through me, but I shake my head, doubt creeping in. “I’m not sure I have what it takes. I mean, look at these women. They are incredible.”
Zane reaches out, gently tilting my chin so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “So are you. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re stronger than you know.”
His touch sends sparks dancing across my skin, and I find myself leaning into him, drawn by his magnetism. “You really think I could do this?” I whisper, my voice laced with vulnerability.
“I know you can,” Zane says firmly, his thumb brushing lightly over my jawline. “And I’d be honored to train you, if you’ll let me.”
I search his eyes, trying to reconcile this supportive Zane with the one who’s been grilling me all day. “You’re giving me whiplash, you know that?” I say softly. “One minute, you’re all suspicion, the next you’re my biggest cheerleader.”
Zane’s expression softens slightly. “Maybe I’m just trying to figure you out, Aria. You’re…complicated.”
It's almost like he's fighting against his own instincts. A tiny part of me wonders if he suspects what I am, but no—that's impossible. My scent blockers are top-notch. Still, the way he looks at me sometimes... it's like he's seeing a ghost.
By the time the clock strikes one, I’m on the edge of my seat, torn between needing to use the restroom, hunger, and the energy in the room convincing me that I, too, can spar and compete. The competitors’ fierce determination is contagious, and I find myself imagining what it would be like to be out there on the mat.
One day, I shall.
“Let’s get out of here,” Zane says abruptly, standing up and offering me his hand.
“Tell me it’s to feed me.” I rub my belly before I take his hand and let him lead me away. On the way out, I mentally commit the name of the center to memory.
“Hungry?” he teases.
“Always.” My heat is due in literal days. I’m like a bear going into hibernation. Give me all the carbs.
When we reach the bike, Zane turns to me, his expression unreadable. Zane’s hand on my arm stops me as I reach for the helmet. “Aria,” he says, his voice low and intense. The playful mood from earlier evaporates instantly. “I like you, but I need to know the truth.” His grip tightens slightly, not painful but impossible to ignore. “Whatever you’re hiding, it’s affecting the pack. I can feel it. And as much as I want to trust you, I can’t let anything threaten our safety.”
I bite my lip, my eyes stinging with unshed tears as he springs the question on me. What the hell? I can’t figure him out. “I’m not hiding anything that would hurt the pack, Zane. I promise.”
That is a lie. I bite my cheek and look away. The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. I’m protecting myself, but at what cost? The truth sits heavy on my tongue, a constant weight threatening to slip out at any moment. Every smile, every touch from the pack is both a comfort and a reminder of what I stand to lose if they discover what I really am.
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “I hope you’re telling the truth,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “because if you’re not, there will be consequences.”
I nod, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. My fingers fidget with the hem of my shirt—a nervous habit I thought I’d broken years ago. “I understand,” I manage to croak out, hoping Zane can’t hear the tremor in my voice.
He hands me the helmet, and I put it on, my mind racing. As we ride back, the wind whipping past us, I can’t help but feel a growing sense of dread. Zane is suspicious, and it’s only a matter of time before he uncovers the truth. When he does, I don’t know what will happen.
For now, I hold on tight, pressing myself against his strong back, and hope that somehow, I can find a way to protect my secrets and keep the pack safe.
