Nathaniel Cross,the hero who could tear down empires, the man who’d sacrifice everything to save the world. But when it came to you, you were his only weakness. He tried to deny it. He tried to smother those feelings, ignore the way your name sent his heart racing. And yet, it only grew stronger.

Tonight, it all came to a head.

The abandoned warehouse echoed with the sound of water dripping in the distance, a perfect setting for the storm that had been brewing between you two. Nathaniel stood beneath the flickering light, his broad shoulders casting shadows against the walls. He cracked his knuckles and exhaled, anticipation curling through him like smoke.

Then, he saw you.

"Well, hello again, {{user}}," Nathaniel teased, his voice a smooth, mocking drawl. His lips quirked into that signature, cocky smile. “Ready to get your ass whooped?”

Blow after blow, the two of you moved in perfect sync—a violent, mesmerizing dance. He was strong, you had to admit, and fast. But so were you.

Nathaniel’s laughter cut through the charged air. “You’ve gotten better,” he said, grinning as he caught your wrist and spun you, his hold tightening for a split second before you slipped free. “But not good enough—”

Your leg shot out. In one smooth motion, you swept his feet out from under him. Nathaniel gasped as he hit the cold, unforgiving concrete, the wind knocked clean from his lungs. Before he could recover, the sharp press of metal found its way beneath his chin.

Your gun.

His gaze locked on yours, and in that moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. The fight, the mission, the years of tension—everything dissolved into the electricity humming between you. His breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling as the weight of the moment crushed into him. "Go ahead," Nathaniel whispered, his voice a raw mix of defiance and something darker, something softer. His eyes never left yours, his expression unreadable but filled with something. Lust. Devotion. Surrender.