Page 24 of Lone Wolf

That Ariadne was actually trying to protect me?

I scoff at myself and even give a small little smile at how dumb I’m being. Just because I jumped at her with my mouth in that closet and she didn’t literally kill me, it doesn’t mean a damn thing.

Ariadne is always about the mission.

Still…we really did work well together, and I was in this weird state of heightened arousal the whole damn time. I wonder if the other mercs feel that same way? If so, I can see why they stay in the game. And for the money, of course.

And maybe, for a few of them—like me—there’s a personal stake.

That thought sobers me, and I slow my steps as I get closer to the dorms. I don’t actually feel like sleeping. I’m wired still, andthe idea of getting into bed like a good little girl after my first successful gig for the Styx Syndicate…well, it doesn’t seem like I’d be honoring the night.

I guess I could absolutely rail myself with my vibrator. I consider that for a hot second, but the fact is, I need serious action to get rid of all this pent-up adrenaline.

And because I have a sneaking suspicion that my mind would go directly to one woman, and there’s no way I’m gonna orgasm overthatasshole.

I run upstairs, take off the clothes and makeup, and then I dress up in my sweats and head back toward the house. My best bet tonight is a workout, so I can blow off some steam and clear my head. And at this time of night, when it’s coming up to daylight, I know there are fewer people around than any other time. The Styxies tend to be night owls or early risers, no in-betweens. Four a.m. is the perfect time when you want to work out alone.

And normally I’d be right. But as soon as I walk into the gym, I hear the energetic punches of someone working out on the bag. They’re hidden by the heavy swaying cylinder, but I already know who it is, because I know how shit my luck is. And when she dances around to the side, I confirm it.

Ariadne pauses for a microsecond when she sees me, and then goes right back to punching as though she wishes the bag was me.

For a second, I consider walking back out. But why should I let her scare me off? I’m not the asshole in this equation. So I don’t say a word, I just head to the side where I start stretching and warming up.

But I find it hard to stay focused. I keep sneaking peeks at Ariadne, whose form is impeccable even just kickboxing at half-speed with the bag. She’s wearing her usual black tank and leggings, and the sheen of sweat over her skin is making her glow and sparkle under the lights overhead.

And I get the impression that maybe she’s watching me, too.

“What are you doing here?” she asks at last.

“Working off steam. What areyoudoing here?”

“The same.” Her expression stays impassive but she doesn’t looks away.

An unspoken challenge. I like it.

“You feel like another dance?” I ask her, nodding toward the sparring mats stored up against the side of the room.

“If you want a beating, I’m happy to provide one.”

She sounds like one of those scary androids, totally calm, completely devoid of any expression. But I can see the look in her eyes.

And I want to make her crack. “Let’s go.”

I pull down a few mats and arrange them across the gym floor. Ariadne helps silently, and then we square off, her eyes never leaving mine. I bounce on the balls of my feet, feeling the springy give of the mat beneath me.

I throw the first combination—a jab-cross that cuts through the air fast. She blocks both with ease, her forearms solid as steel, and then counters with a low kick that grazes my thigh as I twist away.

She pivots smoothly to maintain the distance between us.

“I know that’s not the best you’ve got,” I say, low and challenging as we circle each other. “Come on and hurt me, Frostbite—if you can.”

Something flickers in her eyes—a crack in the ice—and her attacks sharpen. Her kicks aim for my ribs with more force, her fists find their marks in my gut. She ducks under to sweep at my legs. I barely leap out of the way.

And I laugh. I’m enjoying this. Whatever else we might be, we have fun doing this. Though it doesn’t look like fun right now for Ariadne, who is closing on me, grappling with me, hooking her leg behind mine. It’s a wicked move that takes my feet right out from under me.

I slam down to the mat. Before I can recover, she’s on top of me, pinning my shoulders, her face inches from mine. Her weight presses me down, thighs straddling my hips.

I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, see the flush creeping up her neck. Her pupils are blown wide, turning her blue eyes nearly black. Without thinking, I arch slightly against her hold.

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