The sun was barely up when Willa slipped out of bed.
Her bare feet hit the cool floor, her body aching in all the best ways, the kind of ache that settled deep in her bones. The early light slanted across Cade's sleeping form—half-covered in a sheet, muscles stretched and relaxed, one arm sprawled across the empty space she'd left behind.
She stared at him a moment longer than she meant to.
Too long.
Because when his eyes opened, there was no drowsy confusion—just that sharp, direct stare. Like he'd known she was watching him. Like he'd been waiting.
"Leaving already?" he asked, voice rough with sleep and sex.
"I've got things to do."
He sat up slowly, the sheet slipping to his waist. "So do I."
They watched each other.
Something thick and unspoken stretched between them.
Last night had been fire.
This morning was fog.
Willa turned away, scooping up her tank top, pulling it over her head with more force than necessary. "We still don't know where Sadie went. She's been gone too long."
"She's smart," Cade said. "She knows how to disappear."
"She's reckless," Willa countered, grabbing her jeans and hopping into them. "Especially when it's personal."
Cade stood. Naked. Unapologetic.
Willa looked. Just once.
He smirked.
She glared.
"Don't," she said.
"Don't what?"
"Act like this is normal."
"It could be," he said. "If you stopped fighting every damn thing you feel."
She froze, half-buttoned. "You don't know what I feel."
"I know enough." He stepped forward. Not touching. Just close.
"You're scared. Not of me. Of what happens when you want something that isn't tied to a mission."
"I don't want anything," she snapped.
"Liar."
He leaned in, just enough to brush his lips over her jaw—not a kiss, a taunt.
"You're not ready," he whispered. "But you will be."
And then he stepped away, pulled on his jeans like nothing had just crackled between them.
Willa wanted to scream.
Instead, she stormed downstairs.
Roman was already at the bar, sipping black coffee and scanning the files they'd pulled from the lab.
He didn't look up. "Rough night?"
Willa poured herself a cup. "You have no idea."
Cade joined them a minute later, all quiet steps and smug energy. Grace followed, tying her hair into a braid.
Roman looked up. "Sadie's not answering her phone."
"She left a message," Cade said. "Said she had a debt to pay."
Willa cursed under her breath. "She went after Rell. Alone."
Roman sighed. "Then we need to move."
Before they could plan, a howl split the quiet—sharp, mournful, wrong.
Not natural.
Not just wolf.
Willa's eyes went wide.
"That wasn't a call," she said. "That was a warning."
Roman stood. "Everyone gear up."
Cade's hand brushed her back as they turned toward the door. A touch meant to steady.
She didn't shake it off.
But she didn't lean into it either.
Not yet.