As Caesar strode toward the hotel exit, his gaze drifted to the tinted bronze mirror panels lining the lobby walls. He wasn't admiring his own reflection—though, objectively, it was a very good reflection—he was scanning the space behind him out of habit. Alpha instincts. Paranoia. The usual.
And that's when he saw her.
A woman. Running. In their direction.
She looked... familiar.
His eyes narrowed. His brain, which had survived battles, political intrigue, and one very traumatizing night in a certain she-wolf's bedroom, began to piece together fragments of recognition.
Wait.
No.
It couldn't be.
That was... her?
That was the crazy naked girl who had slept while groping her own breasts.
Who had sexually harassed him in her sleep.
Who had traumatized him so badly that he still flinched every time he saw a meat bun.
Who had made him question every life choice that had led him to that moment.
