Page 32 of Lone Wolf

Ariadne steps closer, her tone shifting from professional to something more personal—almost concerned. “I know enough. And I know when someone’s hiding something.”

I laugh, bitter and sharp. “Likeyou’reso open and honest? That’s rich coming from you.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment I hope she might walk away. But she doesn’t. Instead, she leans in closer. “This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” I challenge, feeling reckless. “You push people away, then act surprised when they stop trying.”

“We’re talking about the mission,” she says firmly. “Not…whatever happened between us.”

I can feel the heat of her body, see the pulse jumping in her throat. And so I shift tactics, my voice dropping to something softer, more dangerous. “You want to be on this mission, too. You want to be out there, fighting. Killing.”

Ariadne doesn’t deny it, which surprises me. “The difference is I can separate personal feelings from the job.”

I laugh, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “Keep telling yourself that, Frostbite.” I step closer, deliberately invading her space until we’re almost touching. “Besides, if you try to get me pulled, I’ll tell Hadria you have just as much unhealthy interest in this mission as I do. Thenneitherof us goes.”

It’s a bluff—a desperate one—but I deliver it with such conviction that Ariadne hesitates, uncertainty flickering across her normally impassive face. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Even if that’s true, it’s my choice to make.”

For a moment, genuine worry flashes across Ariadne’s face—so quickly I almost miss it.

I soften slightly, letting her see just a fragment of truth. “Look, I need this. I can’t explain why, exactly, but I do.”

Ariadne studies my face for a long moment, searching for something. Whatever she sees there makes her exhale slowly. “Fine,” she says at last. “But you follow every instruction, every protocol. No improvising, no heroics.”

Relief floods through me. “Deal.”

Her eyes still won’t leave mine. “I mean it, Santiago. One wrong move and I’ll drag you out myself. If you’re a danger to yourself, you’re a danger to others, too.”

I nod, suddenly aware of how close we’re still standing, of the way her gaze drops momentarily to my lips. The air between us changes, charged with something beyond anger or suspicion.

“I’ll be careful,” I promise, meaning it. Then I add, unable to help myself, “And hey, nice to know you care, Frostbite.”

Before she can respond, I slip past her into the corridor, my heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the mission ahead.

CHAPTER 12

Ariadne

I don’t sleep muchthe long day before the mission. Instead, I review the operational files for the third time, checking each detail. The layout. Entry points. Known personnel. Potential victim locations.

I tell myself it’s because I don’t trust Santiago to follow protocol. I tell myself it’s the mission that matters, not the way my chest tightens when I think about what could happen to her if something goes wrong.

The sky outside my window fades from pink to purple to navy as dark approaches. I skip the dinner crowd and eat a few crackers and some cold chicken breast in my room alone as I wait for the time to tick by. At last, I dress for the mission, selecting clothes that maximize movement while minimizing visibility. Black tactical gear, extra holsters, room for extra ammunition. I head to the armory, where I’m geared up with everything I request.

Tonight nothing is denied me. Tonight is the real deal.

And all the time I’m getting ready, I don’t see a single hair on Sunny Santiago’s head. I’m ready to accept that either shehasn’t come, or Hadria or Lyssa or Scarlett found out whatever she’s hiding and pulled her from the mission. I’m actually relieved, although I wish she could have had her chance. She’s a good fighter. And she really wanted to be on this mission, for whatever reason.

But when I reach the garage complex, Santiago is already there, suited up, ready to go.

She’s changed since she found out about this mission. Gone is the perpetual smile, the easy jokes, the sunshine energy that irritates and fascinates me in equal measure. In her place stands someone I recognize all too well: a weapon. Primed and ready.

It’s like looking into a mirror.

I don’t like it.

But as I watch her from the shadows, I note the slight tremor in her hands. She’s hiding something big. I’ve known it from the start, seen it in the way she studies the mission files with an intensity that goes beyond professional duty. Whatever her stake in this, it really is dangerous. Personal.

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