Page 20 of Betrayed Knocked-Up Mate

“Life experience, she says,” I grumble.

Asher laughs. “Must have had a lot of it.”

"Yeah." The word comes out rougher than intended. "I noticed."

Across the room, Sara demonstrates a complex takedown sequence to Camila, her movements precise and controlled. Camila mimics it impressively. When did she learn to fight like that? While I was busy trying to keep her safe, was she out there making herself dangerous?

"Marcus." Elena's voice cuts through my thoughts. "We should run the paired drills. Kane's people never attack alone—we need to be ready for coordinated assaults."

She's right. Of course, she's right. Elena's tactical mind is one of our greatest assets, especially now. But before I can respond, Camila's scent spikes with interest.

"Mind if I join?" she asks, moving toward us with predator grace. "I've picked up some techniques that might be useful against multiple opponents."

No, I want to say. Absolutely not. Stay away from anything to do with Kane, with combat, with the violence that's consumed my life.

But Asher's already nodding. "Actually, that might work well. Your style's different from what Kane's people would expect. Could give us an advantage in real combat."

"Fine," I grit out, ignoring the knowing looks Elena and Asher exchange. "Run it."

The next hour is both beautiful and torturous. Camila moves through the drills with the reactivity and unconventionality I’ve learned are her calling card, adapting instantly to different partners and scenarios. Her smaller size becomes an asset rather than a liability, letting her slip through defenses that would stop larger opponents.

When she ends up paired with me, it takes everything I have to maintain professional distance.

"Ready?" she asks, settling into a fighting stance I don't recognize.

No, I think.I'll never be ready for this—for seeing you become someone so different from the girl I left behind. For knowing that my choices pushed you toward this life.

But I just nod, and then we're moving.

The fight is like poetry, like memory, like everything I've tried to forget. She reads my movements like she never forgot them, anticipating strikes before they land. When I sweep her legs, she's already rolling with the momentum, coming up inside my guard. When she aims for my weak points, I counter with moves I perfected fighting Kane's people.

I’m holding back—we’re evenly matched so long as she’s the only one allowed to play dirty. More than evenly matched, we're complementary, her speed balancing my power, my precision matching her chaos.

"Enough," Elena calls finally, her voice tight with something I refuse to analyze. "That's enough for today."

Camila steps back immediately, professional masks sliding into place. But her scent betrays her—adrenaline, exertion, and something deeper that makes my wolf howl with recognition.

"Good session," she says coolly, already turning away. "Thanks for the practice."

I watch her leave, ignoring the weighted looks from my team. They know me too well—can read the tension in my shoulders, the way my hands want to reach for her.

"Marcus," Asher starts, but I cut him off.

"Not now." Not ever, if I can help it. "Let's break down the drills. See what we can incorporate into our defensive plans."

But even as we examine movements and strategies, I can only think about how Camila moved. The warrior she's become. The life she's built without me.

The life I forced her to build, thinking it would keep her safe.

***

The following afternoon, I find myself in Rosecreek's surveillance center, reviewing security footage with Byron, half to help and half to learn their systems. The screens cast blue shadows across his focused face as he shows me the latest upgrades to their monitoring system.

"We've expanded the perimeter sensors," he explains, pulling up a map dotted with red markers. "Added thermal imaging, motion detection, the works. If Kane's people try to approach, we'll know."

I study the layout, noting the careful positioning of each sensor. "Coverage looks good. But Kane's people are professionals. They'll be looking for blind spots."

"That's why we're adding random patrol patterns. Mixing up routes, changing schedules." Byron's fingers fly over his keyboard. "Between the tech and the physical presence, we've got multiple layers of—"

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