“You’ll be more effective with a clear head and a plan,” he countered, moving to stand beside her. “The data isn’t going anywhere overnight. Kael?”
“Eight o’clock. I’ll be there,” Kael agreed, nodding.
Tess pressed her lips together, a clear sign she was biting back a retort. She gave a tight nod. “Fine. That will give me time to formulate preliminary questions.”
Without another word, Korran guided her from the lab, his hand returning to the small of her back. The heat of her through her coat was a brand. She walked stiffly beside him, all the way back to the SUV, and maintained a frosty silence as he held her door open.
Only when they were on the road, the research building shrinking in the rearview mirror, did she speak.
“I could have started today. I don’t need to be coddled or have my schedule managed for me.”
The accusation in her voice grated against his raw instincts. “It wasn’t about managing you,” he ground out, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “It was about giving you a fighting chance. You saw their faces. You walk in there exhausted and they’ll eat you alive. Tomorrow, you walk in rested, on your own terms, with me having made my expectations clear. It’s strategy, not control.”
He felt her gaze on him, studying his profile. The mate bond pulsed between them, a taut, live wire humming with unsaid things—her frustration, his possessiveness, the undeniable pull that made the air in the vehicle crackle.
She didn’t answer. She simply turned to look out the window at the passing snowscapes, putting a deliberate, silent distance between them in the confines of the car.
Good. She’s resisting it too.
The thought should have been a comfort. It was the logical outcome he’d wanted. She would do her work, solve the mystery, and save his father. Then she would leave, returning to her world. He would do his duty, mate Seraya for the stability of the clan, and lock this impossible, maddening craving for a human woman away forever.
His bear roared in violent rejection of the plan, a turmoil of rage and longing that shook him to his core. The rest of the drive passed in a silence so thick and charged, it felt like a third passenger in the car.
SEVEN
TESS
The silence in the SUV had been a physical weight. The moment Korran pulled into the estate’s courtyard, Tess was out of the vehicle before he could cut the engine, her boots hitting the snow with a definitive crunch. She didn’t look back, didn’t wait for him to play the gallant prince and open her door or guide her inside. She marched straight for the front entrance, feeling the heat of his stare on her back like a brand.
A part of her, the petty, frustrated part, hoped her swift exit stung. The rest of her was just furious. Not just at him, but at the entire, impossible situation.
She swept through the front doors, the opulent warmth of the estate doing nothing to melt the cold knot of anger in her chest. She’d worked her entire life to prove she belonged in rooms that didn’t want her—classrooms, labs, and grant review boards. She’d faced down condescending male colleagues with nothing but superior data and a sharper intellect.
But this was different. The hostility in Varix’s lab hadn’t been about her gender or her credentials. It had been a visceral, species-level dismissal.
Human.
How could an entire society, ruled for decades by a human queen and a half-human prince, still cling to such blatant prejudice? It didn’t track. It felt less like cultural tradition and more like a cultivated infection.
Focus, Tess. You have two weeks. Prejudice is a symptom, not the disease you’re here to cure.
She reached her suite as the last rays of the sun bled across the snow-purple horizon, casting long, dramatic shadows through her windows. She needed her notebook, her anchor in this surreal world. She headed for the walk-in closet, her mind already churning with the questions she’d pose to Kael tomorrow.
She flicked on the light.
And froze.
The closet was no longer the spacious, empty cavern where she’d hung her modest Earth wardrobe. It had been transformed. Racks groaned under the weight of dresses in sumptuous fabrics—velvets, silks, fine wools in deep jewel tones and winter whites. Shelves held neat stacks of sweaters and tailored trousers. An entire section was dedicated to outerwear, from fur-trimmed capes to sleek, insulated coats. A jewelry armoire stood open, its velvet-lined drawers glinting with silver and polished stone. Rows of boots and elegant shoes lined the floor.
Gabrielle had mentioned Korran wanting her sizes. Tess had pictured some spare clothes, maybe a warm pair of socks and another pair of boots. Not a boutique. The scale and speed of it were dizzying. A ridiculous, lavish overreach.
Yet, her scientist’s hands reached out almost of their own volition. Her fingers trailed over a gown the color of crushed wine. The fabric was liquid under her touch. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was pulling it from the rack.
What followed was a silent, secret rebellion. One by one, she tried them on. A forest-green velvet that made her eyes look like emeralds. A silver-grey silk that clung to her curves like moonlight. Each transformation in the full-length mirror was a shock. The woman staring back wasn’t Dr. Tess Holt, perpetually worried about rent and grants. This woman looked… regal.
Ridiculous. You’re just playing dress-up. A momentary distraction.
The final selection was a gown of flowing crimson, the neckline a tasteful sweep. It moved with a whisper when she walked. She found a necklace of woven silver strands and dark, polished stones and fastened it at her throat. In the mirror, she was a vibrant flame against the suite’s muted tones.
