Is he… flirting with me? The absurdity of it makes me snort. “I’m not here to exchange pleasantries.”
“Shame. I find pleasantries with you can be quite… pleasant.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and something warm and unwelcome flutters in my stomach.
I straighten my spine.
What is wrong with me?
This is Percy Porkwell—the same male whose signature appears on every document that’s slowly erasing my heritage. And yet, there’s something in the intelligence of his gaze that has my brain stumbling for the words to continue this verbal sparring match.
Dangerous territory, Ruby.
Focus.
“The Wolfstone development can’t proceed. That land isn’t just real estate—it’s the last protected territory where wolves can live according to traditional ways. Your luxury condos would destroy ancient den sites, hunting grounds, and—”
“And create affordable housing for two hundred families, plus commercial space for small businesses, and a public park,” he interjects smoothly. “I’ve read your objections, Ms. Wolfhart. I’m intimately familiar with every detail of your… position.” He leans in a fraction closer.
The way he says “position” makes my hair stand on end, and a shiver travels down my spine at his renewed closeness. I won’t back away this time. He needs to know I will stand my ground.
“You could build anywhere else,” I argue, trying to ignore how his scent—sandalwood, ink, and something distinctly male—is affecting me. “Why there? Why now?”
I must be losing my mind. Or maybe just my wolf instincts.
Percy leans even closer. I have to force myself not to retreat. “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere more private? The acoustics in here are terrible.” He speaks low and is so close now that I can feel the heat of his breath on my neck.
My instincts scream “trap.” This must be some kind of distraction tactic, but my curiosity—and something else I refuse to name—pushes me to nod. “Five minutes.”
He guides me with a light touch on my lower back (which I should object to, but don’t) toward a small terrace off the main ballroom. The night air is a welcome relief from the heat building inside me. The city sprawls below us, a testament to pig engineering and predator displacement.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Percy says, leaning against the stone balustrade. “When my grandfather came here, this was all mud and underbrush.”
“It was a thriving ecosystem,” I counter. “Home to dozens of species.”
“Who now live in climate-controlled comfort with indoor plumbing and broadband internet.” His tusk catches the moonlight as he smirks. “Evolution, Ms. Wolfhart.”
“Forced eviction isn’t evolution.”
He turns to face me fully, and the playfulness fades from his expression. “You really care about this, don’t you? It’s not just political posturing.”
“Of course I care!” My voice rises despite my best efforts. “Wolfstone is the last piece of our heritage that hasn’t been paved over or turned into an ‘exotic wildlife experience’ for prey tourists. It matters.”
Percy studies me with unexpected intensity. “Then propose an alternative.”
I blink. “What?”
“An alternative development plan.” He shrugs those broad shoulders. “If you’re so convinced we’re doing it wrong, show me the right way.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” He steps closer, and suddenly the terrace feels much smaller. “I’ve read your file, Ruby. Master’s in Environmental Engineering from Meadowland University. Thesis on sustainable urban development. You’re not just an activist with a picket sign—you’ve got actual expertise. So use it.”
I’m momentarily speechless, from his unexpected knowledge of my background and the fact that he called me Ruby instead of Ms. Wolfhart. And the way he said it—like he’s savouring my name.
“I… could draft something,” I say cautiously.
I take the card he offers me, trying to ignore how my fingertips tingle when they brush against his. Must be the adrenaline of confrontation, though something feels off. I’ve been on edge all evening, attributing it to the stress of the mission, the uncomfortable heels, the too-tight suit.
“Have it on my desk Monday morning,” he says, and I’m suddenly aware of how dry my mouth is, how each breath brings his scent more sharply into focus.
