Her eyes snapped open, body going still as she listened. Another sound—a slight shift of weight. Someone was moving outside her door.
She didn't move, didn't breathe. Instead, she waited, listening for the telltale scrape of a doorknob twisting.
Natalia was off the bed in an instant, silent as a shadow, positioning herself behind the door just as it swung open. Her fingers tingled, power sparking at her fingertips as she prepared to strike.
A man stepped inside, tall, broad-shouldered, with raven-black hair.
Natalia moved.
She launched toward him, her foot barely skimming the floor as she grabbed his arm, twisting his weight against him. He pivoted fast, raising his fists in a practiced motion, aiming for her head.
Amateur.
She ducked, stepping to the side just as his strike missed. Natalia seized his arm, using his own momentum to pull herself up onto his shoulders, her legs locking around his neck. With a sharp twist, she threw him off balance, slamming him onto the floor.
The impact echoed through the room.
Natalia didn't hesitate. She pinned his arms beneath her knees, letting her weight press into his chest, one hand gripping his wrist while the other pulled a dagger from her boot, pressing the cold steel against his throat.
Violet eyes locked onto deep blue ones.
"Bruce?"
"Yeah," he groaned, shifting beneath her hold. "Now, can you get off me?"
Natalia's brows furrowed. She didn't move, studying him. With her free hand, she grabbed the front of his black t-shirt and yanked, tearing the fabric slightly to reveal his chest.
No hidden blades. No weapons.
Bruce let out an exasperated sigh. "At least buy me dinner first," he muttered. "First, I don't have any weapons. Second...that was my favorite t-shirt."
