Afterward, we went back to our cells and never mentioned it again.

Two weeks later, we all graduated, and she left for her assignments and I left for mine. The rest of my life had a large stain over it, and I didn’t like to go swimming in memories.

Why did you buy her? You know it’s not going to end well.

I didn’t f**king know. It’d been spur of the moment, an urge I couldn’t disobey. I had to keep her. I had to know if she could cure me. I couldn’t describe the insane idiocy of dragging her upstairs. The connection made no sense. I’d never been interested in anyone the way I had locked onto her. It wasn’t logical for a man of my past to even care about another human, let alone suffer lunacy at the thought of letting them go.

The kiss had been too distracting. Dropping the tight grip on my control, I focused on her heat and texture. I memorized every nip and sweep of her tongue. I didn’t notice she’d unlocked her hands.

Big mistake. Huge f**king mistake.

It couldn’t happen again.

Scowling, I settled stiffly into my chair, thankful for the large expanse of wood between us.

She moved to the chair opposite and sat down. My eyes narrowed on the shadows on her neck. As much as I thirsted for the connection, as much as I wanted her to touch me and find solace from a lifetime of pain, I couldn’t.

The closest I could come was using her callously. Never letting her get too close, never sharing any of my thoughts or past.

It was best she knew nothing about me.

I told her not to touch me. It’s not my fault I hurt her.

That was bullshit.

It seemed other precautions would have to be taken to make sure she didn’t disobey again and make me kill her.

Her eyes met mine and my heart lurched. Run. Leave me. No amount of money is worth staying with a monster like me.

Needing to dispel the wariness between us, I muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Zel nodded, wincing a little from her sore neck. “I know. You don’t have to mention it again. Call it a learning curve.” Her eyes held forgiveness along with fierce determination.

I snorted. She thought she could fix me, and I wanted her to. Too bad it would never have a happy ending.

Sighing, I grabbed a piece of paper and my favourite fountain pen. Bowing my head, I scribbled:

Contract between Obsidian Fox and Hazel Hunter.

The vague agreement wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. I only bothered so I had something to hold over her if she suddenly tried to leave. I might want her to leave for her own safety, but I was a selfish man and would use her for as long as I could.

Hazel agrees to obey Fox implicitly for the agreed amount of time of one month. In that time she will go where he wishes, do what he wants, and offer no argument or disrespect. In that time, Fox agrees to treat Hazel with respect and won’t make lavish demands. Hazel agrees to be available to Fox at any time, night or day for his needs, and will obey any order that’s given. Fox agrees to keep her safe, not cause any pain—

Stopping, I scratched out the last line. I’d already caused her pain by body-slamming her to the ground.

Fucking idiot. Fucking machine.

My handlers had ruined me for life. The automatic maiming from being touched had been so ingrained, it would never leave. I was a moron to think it ever would.

The heaviness in my soul grew as I accepted the inevitable: I would never be free.

I’d been able to break other commands, but touching had a special hold on me. After all, they’d gone to a lot of trouble to make it my first instinct.

The cane came from nowhere, walloping me around the back of my knees. My hands flexed around the knife as I faced the target of bundled hay dressed in kid's clothing of dungarees and green t-shirt.

“Stab it, Operative Fox.”

They struck me again, and this time it was instant. The moment pain radiated in my joints, I stabbed the dummy with all my strength.

Again and again they hit me until the hay and clothing were a shredded mess at my feet. Sweat ran under my thick winter jacket even as snow flurried around us from the icy Russian winter.

Pain equalled pain. To be inflicted meant to inflict. Touch meant to kill. Simple.

It was freeing to obey such a basic code.

I shook my head, frowning at the piece of paper. Damn f**king flashbacks. They came more often when I was stressed.

Returning to the paper, I finished writing:

Fox agrees to pay Hazel one hundred thousand up front, and another one hundred thousand dollars at the end of one month. If Hazel leaves without Fox’s permission before the time is up, the contract is null and void and no money shall be exchanged.

Scrawling my illegible autograph, I looked up.

Zel hadn’t moved, her eyes focused on my scar. Interest and pity etched her face.

I growled, “Another rule I forgot to mention. Don’t you dare pity me. I don’t want your pity. I don’t deserve your pity. Understand?”

She flinched, but didn’t look away. “It’s not pity. It’s curiosity.” Her hand flew up to spin a delicate chain around her throat. I’d noticed it before. A single star.

The way she touched the silver in reverence hinted that it held a tender history. It meant a lot to her.

It made me jealous.

“I’m just trying to understand you. That’s all.” Her voice was firm and not in the least bit scared of my minor episode of throwing her to the floor. She was so damn strong. Idiotic hope sparked once again. Was she strong enough to withstand me?

My lips tingled, remembering her taste. Remembering the brutal need in her—the summoning from her body to mine.

My heartbeats changed from low and measured—how I always was when I slipped into conditioning—to fast and hard with need.

I wanted her.

Shifting, I rearranged my f**king hard-on. Her lips curled just a little, almost as if she knew what caused my discomfort.

It was her. All her. Damn woman.

“Sign this.” Shoving the paper across the desk, I motioned for her to come forward.

In bare feet, she stood and padded closer. Perching on the edge of the desk, the gold and silver dress hitched up, showing a split to mid-thigh.

Goddammit.

My stomach twisted as my c**k lurched, growing hotter and thicker until I was sure it would self-combust.

With slightly shaking fingers, Zel took the piece of paper and read it. Her eyes narrowed and she nibbled on her bottom lip. I expected an argument, but she only nodded and looked up. “I need your pen.”