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Page 7 of Thrown to the Wolves

It’s been too long for me, I guess. Things have been so busy at the Syndicate—but I should make time for my needs.

Not with Scarlett, obviously.

I’m a one-and-done girl, and this—whatever it is—has reached its natural end. I reach for the towel she indicates and pretend not to stare at her as she dries off with her own.

I pull on my clothes again and finally feel more like myself, my control returning—the familiar weight of my weapons, the scent of my leathers.

“Thank you for your assistance tonight,” I say as politely as I can. But I can’t resist adding: “On more than one front.”

Scarlett arches an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips. “Believe me, the pleasure was all mine.”

I give a laugh. Even now, she still manages to catch me off guard with her boldness.

But I can’t allow myself to be drawn back into her intoxicating orbit. We’re done here, and it’s time for me to leave. “I better get going.”

“You can stay. Have that drink I was about to ask you for before those guys jumped us.”

I pull back my hair and tie it up into my usual ponytail. Maybe I should get bangs, like Scarlett. Even easier to keep my hair out of my eyes. I’d buzz it, but then I’d have to maintain it, and I can’t be fucked.

She’s still looking at me. Hopeful.

“This was…a singular event, Scarlett,” I say diplomatically. “And by that I mean, it was great, but it’s not gonna happen again. We had a good time, right?”

Her expression doesn’t waver, but I see the barest flash of something in her eyes—disappointment? Anger? It’s gone before I can decipher it, leaving me even more unsettled.

“Of course,” she murmurs, her eyes dropping. “It was super fun.”

She’s getting a little sarcastic, now. So with a nod and a tight smile, I turn and head for the door. But as I reach for the handle, Scarlett’s voice stops me in my tracks.

“When they called you ‘Wolf’—you never told me, what did they mean?”

“You should know,” I tell her over my shoulder, and then do a double take at the expression on her face. “I just ate you all up, didn’t I?” I add. The joke seems to fall flat, so I just give an up-nod in farewell and head out.

Strange night.

Strange girl.

But she really was fascinating…

CHAPTER 4

Scarlett

I watch the Wolf saunter out of the apartment, that cocky swagger burning into my retinas. As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, and her footsteps fade, I head back into the bathroom, where my facade shatters.

“Stupid! Useless!” I slap my hands across my face, back and forth, punishing myself viciously for my pathetic weakness. Crimson blooms on the skin of my mirror self, a twisted parody of the aroused flush Lyssa had brought to my face just moments ago as she brought me to a mind-blowing orgasm.

Sex can be a weapon.

I thought I would be capable of wielding it against Lyssa. But she turned it against me.

How could I have faltered so disgracefully? I had the Wolf in my trap, naked and vulnerable. The scissors were there on the side of the sink where I could reach them from the shower, just waiting for me to drive them deep into her temple—into her neck—into her heart.

“Grandmother will punish you,” I hiss at my reflection, “and you deserve it.” I strike my cheek hard again. The bright sting dies too fast, though, and visions of Lyssa’s powerful, battle-scarred body rise up again.

She’s so beautiful and strong and terrifying. No wonder I fell to my knees for her…

I whirl around from the mirror, unable to even look at myself now. “You’re just a stupid, weak little girl playing at being a warrior.”




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