Selene's POV
The plan burned in my gut, cold, sharp, a blade I had honed overnight. I would make him fall, crack his guard, slip free. Last night's hook had sunk. Light words in the hall, a smirk, his ice-blue stare lingering too long. Now it was time to reel, slow and steady, till he was dumb enough to drop the keys or leave a door ajar. I rolled off the bed. Silk sheets slid cool against my skin. Bare feet hit marble with a slap that echoed in the quiet. Dawn bled through the barred window, gray, thin, casting shadows long and jagged across the room, like claws stretching to snag me. I grinned, feral, teeth bared, raking a hand through my tangled brown hair. Nails caught on knots, longer now, sharper, humming soft with that damn buzz I couldn't shake.
I paced, restless. Boots scuffed from weeks in this cage, sweater clinging soft from yesterday's game. The steak still weighed. His growl still echoed, "eat," and I hated how it stuck. His scars flashed, six-pack tight, leather creaking, every time I blinked. My thighs clenched. Damn it. Heat prickled low, nipples stirring against the fabric like they'd staged a revolt. I snarled, low, rough, nails digging into my palms. Blood pricked warm, grounding me hard. "Not real, you bastard," I muttered. My voice scraped as I shoved it deep, cold, not hot, resolve flaring bright like a forge stoked high. He wasn't winning, not this, not me, but I'd let him think he was. I'd play the smitten pup till he tripped over his own smug ass and I was gone, wind in my hair, his growl a memory I'd bury.
The mirror caught me, cracked glass propped by the wall. Green eyes glared back, fierce and sharp, hair a wild mess spilling past my shoulders. Olive skin scratched raw from old fights and failed escapes, faint bruise blooming on my jaw from some scuffle I couldn't place. I tilted my head. Lips curled slow as I studied the wolf staring back. Not soft, not sweet, too rough, too scarred, but enough to work with, enough to hook him deep. I'd started small, hallway jabs, "big guy," and he'd bitten, grunted, lingered. His stare cut like a blade. Today, I'd push, dig into his scars, fake awe, see what he spilled. Every word a step closer to freedom, every grin a lie I'd choke down like bile till it paid off.
I raided the wardrobe, his stash, all black and tight. Jeans hugged my hips and thighs, a sweater soft but snug, nothing loud, just enough to draw his eye, subtle, not screaming trap. I tugged them on. Fabric felt cool against my skin as I smoothed the sweater over my ribs, chest rising slow. Nails glinted as I flexed them, sharp, humming low, that damn hum I couldn't kill. "Let's see you squirm," I muttered, smirking. Green eyes flashed in the dim, resolve like iron, cold and unyielding, hammered hard in my gut. The mansion was waking. Faint boots thudded downstairs, Vira's mossy stink drifted up. Time to move, catch him before he buried himself in maps and growls, before he locked me out again.
The hall stretched long. Stone walls felt cold under my fingers, firelight gone, sconces dark. Shadows pooled thick like blood spilled fresh across the marble floor. I slipped out, barefoot, silent, nails clicking the wall as I moved. Hum buzzed steady in my ribs, a pulse I couldn't shake, wouldn't let loose, not yet. The air hung heavy, stone musk, wood rot, leather faint. I breathed it slow, mapping every creak, every turn, weeks burned into my skull like a hunter's trail, every locked door, every barred pane. His study was the goal, his den, his turf, where he'd be, hunched over Ironclaw's doom, scars flexing as he planned, brooding like a wolf over a kill. I'd hit him there, soft words, sharp eyes, dig for cracks, plant seeds, reel him in slow, watch him bend.
I paused at the corner, breath shallow, pulse thudding cold, not hot. Nails trailed the wall, scratching faint, little rebellions I couldn't stop, marks he'd find later, marks I'd leave when I was gone. The air grew warmer, faint light spilling from under his door, candles or a lamp, cutting the dark like a blade, sharp against the hall's chill. I leaned, slow, peering through the crack. Lucien was there, broad back to me, leather stretching tight over his shoulders. Black hair mussed, falling into his eyes, maps spread across the desk, his fingers tracing lines. Scars glinted as he shifted, muscle rolling under the open shirt, broad chest flexing faint. My gut flipped. Damn it. His bulk was a wall, a beast I'd have to tame or break. Resolve held steel, but heat prickled, unwanted, sharp, his scent hitting me, leather, pine, him, stirring me where it shouldn't.
"Hey, big guy," I called, voice light, warm, stepping in. Bare feet fell silent on the rug as I leaned casual against the doorframe, arms loose, smirk tugging slow. Green eyes glinted, mask up, game on. My heart hammered, cold, scheming, but I locked it down, resolve burning bright, cold fire in my veins. He froze, maps crinkling, ice-blue eyes flicking up, narrowing sharp, cutting through me like he could smell the lie. Fingers paused mid-trace, scars flexing faint, breath steady, watching. "What now?" he grunted, voice gravel, shifting. Boots hit heavy as he turned slow, shirt gaping, chest a slab under leather, maps half-rolled, clutched tight like secrets he'd kill to keep. Ice-blue burned cold, sizing me up, testing, damn him, testing me back.
"Thought I'd say hi," I said, shrugging, easy, breezy, pushing off the frame. I stepped closer, slow, bare feet whispering on the rug, stopping just shy of his shadow, close enough to feel his heat, not close enough to flinch. "You're always in here, plotting, growling, don't you get tired?" My sweater clung, soft, snug, chest rising steady. His gaze dropped, fast, lingering on my hips, my ribs, before snapping back, ice-blue burning cold, suspicion flickering. Gotcha, I thought, grin tugging, hook's sinking, resolve flaring like a flame. The hum buzzed, low, a candle flickered, flame jumping. I tilted my head, playing it off, light, airy. "Or is it those scars keeping you up, big battles, huh?"
He snorted, short, rough, lips twitching, not quite a smirk. Air puffed from his nose like a wolf catching a whiff. "Tired's for pups," he growled, voice rolling deep, stepping out from the desk. Boots thudded as maps stayed tight in one hand, leather creaking as he shifted, closing the gap, towering, his bulk a wall of heat and scars. "And you're chatty, settling in, huh?" His head cocked, testing me, ice-blue cutting through the dim, scars catching light, sharp against his pale skin, a map of pain he wore like armor, old fights, old wins, old losses I'd pry loose.
"Maybe I am," I shot back, light, teasing, stepping closer, slow. Bare feet brushed the rug's edge, close enough now, his scent slamming me, leather, pine, damn it, pulse jumping, cold, not hot, resolve locking tight. "Those scars, they're something, big guy like you, taking hits like that?" I tilted my head, green eyes wide, fake awe dripping, voice soft, warm, lie sharp in my throat, but I held it, grinning, daring him to spill, digging for cracks. My nails flexed, sharp, itching, and the hum pulsed, low. A quill on his desk bent slow, metal curling like it felt me, vibrating faint. His brow twitched, caught it, eyes flicking to my hands, then back, suspicion flaring, but I laughed, "Shaky hands again, guess I'm nervous," covering fast, voice steady, mask tight.
He grunted, low, skeptical, "Nervous, huh?" He stepped in, too close, leather and pine crashing over me, his chest a wall, scars peeking, muscle tight, heat rolling off him like a forge stoked high. Ice-blue burned into me, cutting deep, searching. "Scars are just scars, fights I walked from, nothing special." His voice was gravel, rough, dismissive, but his eyes lingered, flicking to my nails, my face, his bulk shifting, maps crinkling as he gripped them tighter, suspicion warring with something else, intrigue, maybe, buried deep. Heat prickled, damn it, my sweater clung, nipples stirring, traitors, and I swallowed it, hard, smirking wider, cold inside, resolve like iron, unshaken.
"Walked from?" I purred, soft, fake, leaning in, barely, green eyes locked, voice warm, digging deeper. "Looks like you took more than a few, tough guy like you, bet there's stories there, big wins, huh?" Lie, sweet as honey, but I held it, grinning, watching his jaw twitch, his scars flex, nails itching, hum buzzing, candle jumping wild, shadows leaping on the walls. He didn't bite, not yet, but he didn't pull back, stood there, ice-blue cutting, breath steady, close enough, his heat grazed me, damn him, pulse thudding, cold, not hot, resolve flaring bright, hook sinking slow.
"Stories bore me," he growled, low, stepping closer, boots scuffing, chest brushing my shadow, leather creaking, his scent slamming me harder, pine, sweat, damn it, his hand flexing, scars pulling tight. Ice-blue burned, testing me, voice rough. "You're digging, why?" His head cocked, sharp, eyes narrowing, suspicion flaring, maps crinkling louder, his grip iron, breath close, too close, cutting the air between us, heat prickling, unwanted, sharp.
"Just curious," I shot back, light, easy, shrugging, stepping back, slow, bare feet sliding, giving ground, smirking, green eyes glinting, mask holding, resolve steel. "Big guy with scars, locked me up, figured I'd learn something, pass the time." The hum pulsed, low, a book on his shelf tipped, soft thud, and he flinched, faint, eyes flicking, then back, growl rumbling, low, not pissed, something else, damn him, intrigue, hook sinking deeper, my grin twitched, cold, not hot, plan ticking on.
"Pass the time somewhere else," he grunted, rough, turning, boots heavy, maps tight, heading back. Desk thudded as he dropped them, shoulder flexing, scars catching light, ice-blue flicking back, once, sharp, then gone, buried in his plans, leaving me standing, pulse hammering, resolve burning, cold, unshaken. I stayed put, smirking, watching him settle, maps unrolling, fingers tracing again, his growl fading to a mutter, back to me, broad and scarred, a wall I'd crack slow. My nails flexed, hum buzzed soft, candle steadied, shadows stilled. "Game on," I muttered, low, grin splitting wide, resolve like iron, cold fire blazing, hook in, step two done, freedom ticking closer.