Chapter 92
Nora's POV
I stepped outside onto the wooden deck, stretching my arms over my head. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and river water.
"Nora."
I froze.
Julian's voice came from behind me, low and clear.
I turned slowly.
"Yes?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He descended the steps, closing the distance between us. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About why you've been avoiding me all morning."
I looked away, my heart racing. "I told you, I'm just tired."
"Nora."
The way he said my name made my chest tighten. There was no anger in his voice, no frustration—just quiet insistence.
I sighed, crossing my arms. "What do you want me to say?"
"The truth."
I met his gaze, and for a moment, I considered telling him everything—the jealousy, the confusion, the way my heart had twisted every time I saw him with Annabel.
"We weren't like this when we talked yesterday," he paused. "Because of Annabel?"
"No!" I protested too quickly, my voice pitching higher.
Julian laughed, a low sound.
He just looked at me like that, the smile at the corner of his mouth deepening, his eyes growing gentle and focused.
I spun around sharply, fixing my gaze on the distant tree line.
"I need to clarify something," he said, his voice dropping to that tone I'd come to recognize. "Annabel and I have no relationship whatsoever."
My pulse quickened. I kept my eyes trained on the horizon, forcing my voice into something casual. "Who you're involved with is none of my business."
"Is that so?" He stepped closer, angling his head to catch my expression. "Then why were you hiding from me all morning?"
I bit down on my lower lip, refusing to answer.
He didn't push further. Instead, he shifted gears entirely. "Since I've explained, walk with me."
I hesitated, weighing my options. The knot in my chest had loosened the moment he'd said Annabel meant nothing.
"Fine," I said finally.
We left the main path, following a narrow trail that wound up into the wooded hillside behind the wetland center. The gravel crunched under our boots. Overhead, the sky was shifting from pale blue to dull gray, clouds gathering in thick layers.
Julian walked beside me in silence for a few minutes before speaking again. "You said at lunch you prefer someone younger. Easier to manage." His tone was light, but there was an edge beneath it—curiosity, perhaps. Or calculation.
I froze mid-step, heat flooding my face as I recalled my stupid joke at the table. "I wasn't serious."
"What's your acceptable age gap?"
The question caught me off guard. I blurted out an answer. "Same age!"
I immediately regretted it.
"So I don't have any chance at all?" His tone carried a hint of defeat.
I couldn't help but laugh. "That was just my old thinking."
I quickened my pace, practically speed-walking up the incline.
Behind me, I heard him laugh—a genuine, unguarded sound that made my stomach flip.
---
The trail leveled out at a natural spring tucked into the hillside. Clear water bubbled up from a crack in the moss-covered rock, trickling down into a shallow stream lined with wild ferns. The air here was cooler, cleaner, carrying the faint mineral scent of stone and earth.
I stopped at the edge of the spring, taking a deep breath. "This is beautiful. Like a natural oxygen bar."
Julian came to stand beside me, hands in his pockets. "It's quieter up here."
I crouched down, cupping my hands to catch some of the icy water. "Wow, it's freezing. And so clear."
"Careful." His voice came from directly behind me. I felt a tug on the hood of my jacket—he'd grabbed it to keep me from tipping forward. "You're going to fall in."
I glanced back at him, grinning. "If it were summer, this would be the perfect place to cool off."
"We could come back then," he said quietly.
Something about the way he said it—casual but deliberate—made my heart skip.
I straightened up, wiping my damp hands on my jeans. An impulsive thought struck me. I wanted to see what he'd look like caught off guard.
Julian bent down to examine the source of the spring, his back to me.
I scooped up a handful of water and flung it at his face.
It hit him square on, droplets scattering across his cheek and jaw. His hair was instantly damp, water sliding down the sharp line of his profile.
I burst out laughing, doubling over.
He straightened slowly, wiping his face with the back of his hand. For a moment, he just stared at me. Then his expression softened into something between exasperation and affection.
"You're worse than Pepper," he said, shaking his head.
I laughed harder.
He took a step toward me, eyes narrowing. "Do you know what happens when you provoke a Lycan?"
I backed up instinctively, still grinning. "You're a Federal Inspector General. You wouldn't resort to violence, would you?"
"Wouldn't I?"
Before I could react, he closed the distance and grabbed me around the waist, lifting me clean off the ground. I yelped, my feet dangling in the air as he held me over the edge of the spring.
"Wait! I'm sorry! Julian."
He loosened his grip slightly, and I shrieked, grabbing onto his arms for dear life.
"Now you're sorry?" His voice was low, amused.
"Yes! I'm sorry! Put me down!"
He set me back on solid ground, and I stumbled slightly, breathless and laughing despite myself. My hands were still gripping his forearms.
"Violent maniac," I muttered under my breath.
"I heard that."
I looked up at him, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us—his silver eyes locked on mine, the faint smile tugging at his mouth, the warmth of his hands still steadying me.
Then a voice cut through the stillness.
"Mr. Sterling? Are you up here?"
Annabel.