Page 93 of Forged

“Why did it take me so long to find you, Lars?”

He rocks his forehead against mine. “You never stayed in one place long enough. And my heart wasn’t ready. But now, Bella? I’m yours and you’re not going anywhere. Try to leave me and I will hunt you down. Fuck, I’ll take you captive. Keep you in a cage all for myself.”

I reach under the waistband of his pants and grip him fully.

He curses and says, “Get on your knees and show me how thankful you are that you found me.”

I’min my kitchen when Lars’ name lights up my phone with a text notification.

I’ve had his information saved for weeks since I received this assignment, so it should be a neutral detail in a long list of information I’ve trained myself to collect. Names, routes, habits, gaps in security. But the second I see his name my pulse picks up.

I set the mug down on the counter and pick up my phone with my thumb hovering over the notification, my mind already running two tracks at once.

One track is practical. This call could be the invitation to the second contact that I absolutely need for the mission. The other track is the memory of Neomi’s mouth on mine, champagne and heat, her eyes when she was on her knees for him and I. The way I woke with her back against my chest and his hand resting on my hip as if my body had always belonged in the same bed as theirs.

I open the message.

Lars:

Hey, Gabriel, Lars here. Dinner this week?

My throat tightens on an inhale. I’ve secured a second meeting. The two wolves inside me howl. One is crying out to be near them, the other knows I’ve taken the most crucial step toward getting closer to what I need to obtain

I stare at the screen until it dims, then tap it awake again, reading the words a second time. I set the phone down on the counter and turn toward the river view, watching morning traffic crawl along the bridges. My apartment is too quiet. Silence is what I used to crave. Now the silence is a mirror, and I don’t like what it reflects back at me.

I cross the living room and stop beside the piano in the corner. The black lacquer catches the light from the windows, polished to a shine that I maintain out of habit. The piano isn’t decoration. It’s the one honest thing in this apartment. It’s the only object in this place that belongs to me, not the alias on my lease. It’s not like the polished furnishings I chose because luxury is simple when you can afford it and leave it behind without grief.

I lift the fallboard and press a single key. The sound cuts through the quiet, and it does what it always does, it pulls me out of my head for a heartbeat.

Then my phone buzzes again and I return to the island to check it. The second notification is the one that turns my stomach.

Snake Charmer:Update?

Just one word. She doesn’t waste characters, because she doesn’t waste time. My hand closes around the edge of the counter, fingers tightening against the cold marble. I pick up my phone and type.

Me:Contact made. I’ll have more soon.

I hit send.

I don’t get an immediate response, but that doesn’t mean anything. Snake Charmer rarely replies quickly when she doesn’t need to. She lets silence do her work. She lets me sit inside my own choices and sweat.

I go back to Lars’ message and read it again.

I should set a line and suggest something less intimate, something in the light of day, because I can already feel how easily this can spiral beyond control. I can already feel the part of myself that wants to earn more than access, the part that wants to be chosen.

I pick up my phone and type.

Me:

Thursday works. Anywhere specific?

I hit send before I can talk myself out of it, then set the phone face down on the counter as if that will lessen the impact of what I just did.

I want to believe this can stay simple. Just a second meeting. A chance to see if last week was a single bright flare or was something that will keep burning whether I feed it or not.

My phone buzzes again and I flip it over.

Lars: