Page 8 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake the way she looked at me, chin tipped up, all stubborn defiance. The way her scent lingered when she walked past, as if she knew exactly how to bury herself under my skin without even trying.

This isn’t about her. The Windriders are a disruption we don’t need. Sophia is a complication I can’t afford, but I don’t walk back toward the lodge. Instead, I follow her.

Her tracks are fresh, cutting through the damp forest floor, deliberate but not hurried. She’s moving with purpose, as if sheknows exactly where she’s going. I keep to the shadows, staying downwind, my wolf stalking just beneath the surface, restless in a way I don’t like.

The sound of moving water reaches my ears before I see it, a soft ripple against the stillness of the night. I move closer, steps instinctive, cautious, until the trees part just enough to reveal the scene before me.

She’s standing in the stream—naked—her neatly folded clothes setting on a rock.

Moonlight filters through the canopy, glinting off the rippling surface of the water, casting her in silver and shadow. Her bare skin glows in the dim light, droplets tracing the sharp planes of her shoulders, rolling down the curve of her back. She moves like she’s part of the water itself, dipping beneath the surface before reappearing, slick and untamed.

I shouldn’t be here. I should turn around before she catches my scent, before I make a mistake I can’t take back, but I don’t.

My hands tighten at my sides as she turns, running wet fingers through her hair, her eyes half-closed, unaware of the fact that she’s not alone. There’s something about her—something dangerous—not in the way of an enemy, but in the way of a storm you see coming and walk straight into, anyway. The movement is slight. The briefest turn of her head, her shoulders stiffening just enough to tell me she’s sensed me.

Her gaze flicks toward the trees, toward where I stand, hidden but not hidden enough. For a second, neither of us move. Her lips part, a slow realization settling over her features. Then, instead of reaching for something to cover herself, instead of looking away like any other sane person caught in this situation, she smiles.

"See something you like, Stone?"

Her voice is low, husky, not at all startled. The arrogance in her tone should make me turn on my heel and leave her to her moonlit bath. But I don’t move.

I step forward, slow, deliberate, letting her see that I’m not ashamed of looking. "You should be more careful where you decide to strip down, Windrider."

She leans against a partially submerged rock, stretching her arms out along the edges, watching me with those too-perceptive, too-bold eyes. "Should I?"

I cross my arms, leveling her with a stare. "You’re not in your territory."

She arches an eyebrow. "I don’t have a territory." She tilts her head, assessing me in that way she does, as if she’s deciding what to do with me rather than the other way around. "You tracked me," she says after a beat. "Why?"

That’s the question, isn’t it?

I force my voice to stay even, my control razor-thin. "Making sure you’re not up to anything."

Sophia grins, slow and sharp. "Liar." She runs a hand down her arm, lazy, teasing, watching for my reaction like she knows exactly what game she’s playing.

Arousal surges through my veins before I can stop it. My wolf stirs, watching her the way a predator watches something it doesn’t know whether to chase or sink its teeth into.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted to be here."

My jaw tightens. "You don’t know better."

She hums, pushing off the rock, wading toward the edge of the stream. The water skims her waist, licking at the edges of her body, tracing over curves I shouldn’t be looking at, shouldn’t be noticing.

I step back. "Get dressed."

Her grin widens. "What’s the matter, Stone? Don’t you enjoy seeing me naked? Does it bother you, Lucas?"

My name on her lips does something. Something I don’t like.

I turn away, giving her my back. "I’m on patrol. Stay out of Nightshade business."

She laughs softly. "Don’t you mean stay out of your way?"

"Same thing," I mutter, walking off before I do something I’ll regret.

Her voice follows me, wrapping around me like a damn invitation I know I shouldn’t accept, and I already know—I’m going to see her again, whether or not I want to.

I walk away, ignoring her—her laughter following me—or at least I was, before Sophia’s voice wraps around me like a challenge I can’t ignore.

---