The sun crept through the cracks in the blinds, painting thin gold stripes across the wooden floor of the small room above Roman's bar. Willa blinked awake slowly, her body aching, her mind raw.
She wasn't used to sleeping in. Or sleeping next to someone.
She sat up alone. Cade was already gone.
Her muscles protested as she stood, bruises blooming like storm clouds across her ribs and thighs. The night before came back in shards—fire, blood, shadows—and then the fire between her and Cade, just as dangerous.
Damn him.
Damn her, more like.
She pulled on her boots and reached for the comm device she hadn't touched in days. Buried deep in the bottom of her gear bag, the light on it blinked furiously like it was angry.
She powered it on.
The screen flooded with messages.
HQ CHECK-IN: Status Required.
Location ping overdue. Respond immediately.
Bounty Protocol Flagged: Potential Compromise.
Authorization Overridden. Handler Deployed.
Her chest tightened.
Then came the last message.
Just three words. No explanation.
Agent Raines Deployed.
Willa's breath caught in her throat.
Maddox.
The name slammed into her like a bullet. Of course they'd send him. The one person who knew every one of her tells. The only one who had ever come close to really seeing her.
The only man she'd ever walked away from before she could admit he might've been right.
Shit.
She shoved the device away and scrubbed her hands down her face. There was no time to process—no space for feelings. She had to find Cade, regroup, figure out what the hell this meant—
The bar door slammed open downstairs.
Voices rose. Chairs scraped. Roman barked something low and commanding.
Willa froze on the stairs as a new voice—one she hadn't heard in almost a year—cut through the haze of morning like a goddamn blade.
"Where is she?"
Her stomach dropped.
He was here.
Maddox Raines had come to collect her.
And he wasn't going to leave quietly.
Willa descended the stairs slowly, every step heavy with dread and something dangerously close to anticipation.
She heard him before she saw him—his voice carried that cool authority she remembered too well. Confident. Steady. That voice had once made her feel grounded. Now it just made her want to punch something.
When she stepped into the bar, Cade was already there, posture tight, arms crossed. His golden eyes tracked Maddox like a predator sizing up a rival.
And there he was.
Maddox Raines.
Black tactical shirt rolled at the sleeves, muscular arms folded. Holster tight to his side. Jaw sharp enough to cut glass. His hair was shorter than she remembered, but his presence hadn't dulled a bit.
He looked like a storm walking around in a man's skin.
When his gaze found her, it softened for just a second, sharpened into something unreadable.
"Wildfire."
The name hit like a slap and a kiss all at once.
Cade stiffened.
Willa's throat worked, but she didn't speak.
Maddox stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his eyes scanning her—taking in the bruises on her jaw, the cut across her collarbone, the exhaustion etched in her posture. His voice dropped.
"You always did know how to make an exit."
Willa crossed her arms. "And you always did show up a week too late."
Maddox smiled faintly. "Headquarters was generous this time. Only took them four days to decide you'd gone native."
"I didn't go anything," she snapped. "You of all people should know I work the job until it's finished."
"Really?" he said, eyes sliding toward Cade. "From where I'm standing, it looks like you're getting… distracted."
Cade stepped forward, slow and calm, but his eyes were full of fire. "You got something to say, Raines?"
"Oh, I have a lot," Maddox said, still watching Willa. "But let's start simple. HQ sent me to finish the mission she abandoned. Bring in the wolf. Clean up the mess."
"You're the mess," Cade growled.
Willa's voice cut through them both. "Enough."
Both men turned toward her.
She squared her shoulders, heart hammering. "This isn't the place. And I'm not your asset anymore, Maddox."
His eyes flickered, just for a second. Hurt? Disappointment? She couldn't tell.
But then he smiled—and it was sharp as glass. "We'll talk later, Wildfire. One-on-one."
He walked past her, his shoulder brushing hers just enough to make her breath catch.
And as he left, his voice slid in low, just for her.
"You didn't answer me then. You don't get to ignore me now."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence swelled in the bar.
Cade's jaw ticked. "You know him."
"I knew him," Willa said quietly. "It's not the same."
He looked at her like he didn't believe a damn word.
And honestly? She wasn't sure she did either.
The bar stayed quiet long after Maddox's boots had stopped echoing down the street.
Willa stood still, her heartbeat thudding loud in her ears. Cade hadn't moved. Not really. Just stood there, staring at the door like he could burn it down with his gaze.
Finally, he spoke—voice low and clipped. "You gonna tell me what that was?"
She turned slowly, crossing her arms like armor. "That was my past."
Cade laughed, sharp and humorless. "Past doesn't look like it's done with you."
"I didn't ask for this."
"No. But you didn't stop it either."
Willa stiffened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Cade's eyes were golden fire now, glowing faintly in the low light. "He walks in here, calls you Wildfire like you're still his, throws me shade, and you just stand there like he's got some kind of claim."
"No one owns me."
"Then act like it."
The words hit her hard. Too hard.
She stepped forward, hands balled into fists at her sides. "You think I'm still hung up on him?"
"I think you haven't figured out what the hell you want," Cade snapped. "One night you're in my bed, the next you're frozen stiff when some asshole from your past walks in the room."
"He's not just some asshole," she growled. "We were partners. We were—"
"Lovers?" Cade bit out.
Willa swallowed hard. "I walked away."
"Yeah?" Cade said. "So why do you look like you're still bleeding from it?"
Silence. Heavy. Raw.
She didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Cade stepped closer, not touching her, just close enough for the heat between them to surge.
"I don't need you to choose me, Willa," he said, voice quiet now. "But if you're gonna run—run. Don't burn me on your way out."
And then he left.
Just like Maddox.
And Willa? She stood alone, ghosts clawing at her from every side.
Her comm buzzed again.
One final incoming message.
Subject: Termination Protocol—Authorization Pending.
Directive: If the wolf is not recovered within 48 hours, secondary agent is cleared to eliminate.
Her blood turned to ice.
She read it twice.
HQ hadn't sent Maddox to bring her home.
They'd sent him to finish the job.
"Time to come home, Wildfire," he'd said.
"One way or another."