The woman was tempered steel. She forced herself to get up when men twice her size would have stayed on their knees. She attacked when any other beta would have surrendered.
But Vonn had been given a glimpse of her single weakness, the one she was trying so hard to ignore. Gently and slowly enough to provide her with every opportunity to stop him, he returned his hand lightly to the back of her neck. She didn't so much flinch when his fingers made contact with her skin.
He felt her fear melt under his touch, the way two raindrops melted into one as they trailed down a windowpane.
Vonn didn't move for several moments, making her wait, making her wonder if he would ever deepen the touch. She wouldn't be the one to initiate, but underneath his fingertips, Vonn could feel the coiled intensity of her desire at war with her reason. He pulled her toward him little by little, waiting until she relaxed to go further.
In this game of cat and mouse, as he continued to give her chance after chance to stop him, he was rewarded by the tension building inside her to an unsustainable level.
Oh, how his little warrior wanted to fight—and he would let her, in time. But first, he meant to establish that no matter how many wins she had racked up in the past and how many egos she had crushed, there was one person she would never defeat completely. That even if she spent her life trying—and God, Vonn hoped she would—the fiery dance between the two of them would always end with him on top.
"Tell me what makes a woman want to be a warrior," he murmured when there was only a matter of inches between them.
Stacy's eyes seemed glued to his lips, the scent of desire steadily simmering inside her, pushing its way to the surface. She blinked, and her eyes cleared briefly as she summoned an answer. "Because someone has to take a stand against monsters like you."
Vonn arched one eyebrow, amused. "You think I'm a monster."
It was a challenge she couldn't rise to. They both knew she was lying, reciting the words she'd absorbed over a lifetime.
Stacy's words hadn't been for his benefit but a last-ditch attempt to convince herself that she didn't want his touch. Now she doubled down. "You are a monster. You kill people."
Vonn frowned, his body answering that provocation with its own heat—not to make her take back her lies but to overwhelm her with the truth. "The only people I've killed were those who tried to kill me first. But I didn't ask why you hate alphas. I asked you what makes you fight."
Another infinitesimal step forward, her feet betraying her. If Stacy came any closer, he would feel her heartbeat through her skin as well as in the air, in her scent, through the vibrations of the floor and walls.
"You don't know me," she declared, in the tone of a gauntlet thrown. "I do plenty of other things."
"I never said you didn't. None of them matter to you anywhere near as much as fighting, though."
"I teach," she insisted.
"At an army base. Teaching other soldiers how to fight."
She bristled, and every nerve ending in Vonn's body thrummed in response. "I read."
"The book in your pack is about historic beta battles. You're making this too easy."
That remark had the effect he'd been hoping for, a lightning flash of fury tightening her muscles and priming her for the fight he was sure she was almost ready for. "Where the fuck do you get off, calling me out for being aggressive? You're a goddamn alpha. All you do is destroy."
It was time. Vonn moved toward her, not touching her but making sure he took up as much of her personal space as possible until she had no choice but to take a step back. But he kept going until her back was flattened against the stone fireplace.
"I haven't destroyed you," he growled. "And God knows I could have. When I had you on the ground, the only moves you made were the ones I let you make."
Stacy sucked in a ragged breath, her eyes widening and her scant beta slick soaking into her clothes. But Vonn didn't relent.
"Last night, when your hands were tied to my bed, you made sure your ass was on display, up in the air like a fucking welcome home sign. But I didn't even touch you."
Her breathing was coming as hard as her inner struggle, her lust weakening the foundations of her false hatred. "Am I supposed to thank you for that? For not assaulting me?"
Vonn slowly shook his head, marveling at the lengths she would go to twist his words. "Keep trying all you want, but you'll never make me the villain here, Sergeant."
"Oh, I'm the villain?" she said in a voice strident with repressed emotion.
"A part of you is. An old part that won't let go of its hold on you. Won't let you feel anything new. Won't let you experience even a moment of rest or pleasure."
She twisted her face into a sneer. "You don't—"
"Know you?" Vonn's voice was hard. "Oh yes, I do. I can sense everything about you. And that's what you're really afraid of—that you can't lie to me like you do everyone else. You want me to fight you. You're practically begging for it. But I'm not your bad guy. You do a hell of a job being that for yourself."
Stacy blinked, and for a fraction of a second, her guard vanished, and he saw the deep well of loneliness inside. It was enough to nearly make him lose his own footing.
But then the curtain closed, and she lifted her chin and stared daggers at him. "I'm not afraid of anything."
And just like that,
