CHAPTER FOUR
Briar wasn’t running.
She refused to call it that.
Storming out of the restaurant? Yes. Power-walking through the streets with her jaw clenched so tight it ached? Absolutely.
But running would mean she was afraid.
And she sure as hell wasn’t afraid of Kade.
Except… maybe she was.
Not in the way she should have been. Not in the way a sane woman would be afraid of a man who kept showing up, who burned with something dark and unrelenting every time he looked at her.
No—what scared her was how much she liked it.
The way her body responded before she could tell it not to. The way his scent got into her head, into her blood, making it impossible to ignore him even when she wanted to.
Even now, as she turned onto a quieter street, she felt him.
There.
Somewhere in the shadows, watching.
She whirled around. “Are you kidding me?”
Silence.
Nothing but the distant hum of the city, the flicker of a dying streetlamp overhead.
But he was here.
She knew it in her bones.
Briar clenched her fists. “Come out. Now.”
Nothing.
Her pulse pounded against her ribs, her breath sharp as she scanned the empty street. Fine. If he wanted to play this game, she’d end it herself.
“You are stalking me,” she snapped, voice sharp enough to cut the night. “I don’t care how hot you think you are, this—this—isn’t okay. Showing up everywhere I go? Scaring off my date? Following me home like some kind of—”
“Say it.”
The voice came from behind her.
Low. Rough.
She froze.
A shiver crawled up her spine, but not from fear.
Slowly, she turned.
Kade stood just beyond the glow of the streetlamp, shadows clinging to him like they belonged to him. His golden eyes burned, his chest rising and falling like he was barely keeping himself in check.
Briar’s pulse jumped—traitorous, needy.
His scent was stronger now, wrapping around her like heat, like temptation.
But she wouldn’t back down.
“I’m serious,” she said, crossing her arms even though her knees felt weak. “This is insane. You are stalking me.”
Kade exhaled a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“You think I want to do this?” he muttered.
She faltered. “Excuse me?”
His jaw flexed. “You think I chose this? That I enjoy showing up everywhere you are, losing my goddamn mind every time you walk into a room?”
Briar’s stomach tightened. “I don’t know what kind of excuse you’re trying to make, but—”
“It’s not an excuse.”
His voice was lower now. Rougher.
And the look in his eyes—dark, desperate—made something curl deep in her gut.
He stepped closer.
Not touching her.
Not yet.
But the heat coming off him was dizzying, and she hated—hated—the way her body leaned toward it, toward him.
“I didn’t plan this,” he said, voice barely above a growl. “Didn’t expect you.” His nostrils flared, his fists clenching at his sides. “But then I caught your scent…”
She swallowed hard. “Now what?”
His smirk was slow, dangerous.
“Now I can’t stay away.”
The way he said it—like a confession, like a curse—sent heat pooling between her thighs before she could stop it.
Damn him.
Damn him for making this sound like fate instead of obsession.
Briar forced herself to take a step back. “That’s not normal.”
His eyes flickered. Amusement? Frustration?
“You’re right,” he murmured. “It’s not.”
The air between them was thick. Too thick.
She shook her head. “You’re insane.”
Kade chuckled, low and dark. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true,” she snapped. “You’ve been hunting me like some kind of—”
Her breath hitched.
She saw it then.
The subtle but undeniable shift.
The way his pupils blew wide, black swallowing gold, his breath slowing, deepening. The way his entire body locked up—not in hesitation, but in something dangerous, something primal.
A predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The air between them stretched too thin, thick with an electricity that sent shivers cascading down her spine.
Briar’s fingers twitched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to breathe, to think.
But her mind had already betrayed her.
Not human.
The thought slithered through her, cold and undeniable, sinking its teeth into her logic, her reason.
And Kade saw it.
The flicker of realization in her eyes. The moment she knew.
His smirk faded.
The space between them felt small—too small, too charged. Her pulse pounded so loud it nearly drowned out the city beyond them, the distant sounds of traffic, the low buzz of a streetlamp barely clinging to life.
Briar swallowed hard, her throat dry. “What are you?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
He just watched her.
A slow, deliberate study—eyes dragging over her face, down her throat, lingering where her pulse betrayed her, hammering at the base of her neck.
Then, slow as sin, he took another step forward.
Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. Close enough that the air between them hummed.
His voice dipped into something rough, velvet-wrapped steel.
“You already know.”
The streetlamp overhead flickered.
Her breath came sharp, shallow. “No.”
Kade’s lips curled, just slightly.
“Yes.”
The ground beneath her felt unsteady, the night pressing in too close, too thick.
He was too close.
And she was the one leaning in.
Her body—traitorous, reckless—drawn forward instead of back, betraying her own instincts.
Because he was right.
She did feel it. That pull, that need twisting low in her stomach, as inevitable as gravity.
Kade’s gaze dipped to her lips, his own tilting into something dangerous.
“Say it, sweetheart.”
Briar’s breath hitched.
She opened her mouth, but the words tangled in her throat, snagging on something raw and undeniable.
“You’re a—”
Before she could finish, a sound rumbled through the night.
Low. Dark.
A growl.
A sound that no human throat should be capable of making.
It vibrated in her chest, curled through her bones, sent her stomach flipping in something hot and wrong and terrifyingly addictive.
Her body locked up, instincts screaming at her to run.
To get away.
To put as much space as possible between her and the thing standing before her.
But the worst part?
The most dangerous part?
She didn’t want to.