“Just thinking.”
“Well, stop thinking so loud. It’s weird.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her fully. “Do you ever stop talking?”
“Not when the company’s this riveting,” she shot back.
Grayson stared at her, trying to piece together how someone who had been through what she’d been through still had the energy to argue with him at every turn. She should’ve been terrified, quiet, compliant. Instead, she constantly challenged him like she didn’t realize how precarious their situation was.
Or maybe she did realize it, and this was her way of fighting back. He couldn’t decide which option annoyed him more.
“Look, I get that this isn’t exactly a vacation for you either, but if you’re going to keep dragging me through the woods, maybe try not acting like I’m the enemy.”
“You’re not the enemy, but you’re not my priority either.”
“Good to know.”
Grayson’s wolf growled, low and insistent, but he ignored it. Whatever pull the bond was creating, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. His life didn’t leave room for connections, especially not ones forced by magic and circumstance.
Still, as they continued walking, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at her every few minutes and checking for any sign of weakness or hesitation. Her steps wobbled occasionally, but she never asked him to slow down, never complained about the bruises forming on her bare feet or the cuts on her wrists. She was stronger than he’d given her credit for, and he hated that his wolf noticed it, too.
“You grew up there, didn’t you?” Cora’s question startled him, breaking through the quiet like a stone thrown into still water.
“Where?”
“Bellefleur,” she answered, glancing at him sideways. “You act like going back there is some kind of death sentence.”
Grayson didn’t answer right away. He hadn’t planned to talk about it—not with her or anyone—but the bond tugged at him again, loosening his grip on the silence he’d held onto for so long.
“I left a while ago. Didn’t think I’d have to go back so soon.”
“Why’d you leave?”
He thought about lying, but something in her expression stopped him—the same defiance that had annoyed him earlier now felt almost…comforting. Familiar.
“Because staying meant being reminded that I’d lost everything I cared about.”
Cora didn’t press him for more, which he was grateful for. They kept walking, and the conversation faded into silence once more. Grayson’s wolf paced restlessly in his mind, and he knew this was only the beginning.
***
By the time Bellefleur came into view, Cora was limping, though she tried to mask it by straightening her posture with every step. Grayson noticed, of course. He noticed everything. The wolf inside him bristled every time her pace faltered, its instinct to protect her stronger than ever thanks to the bond. It didn’t care that she was stubborn as hell or that she’d probably bite his head off if he suggested she stop and rest.
He kept his mouth shut, knowing it wasn’t worth the argument, and adjusted his pace to stay just ahead of her. Leading, not waiting.
Bellefleur wasn’t much to look at. It was a scattering of weathered buildings, pot-holed streets, and enough trees around its borders to give it the illusion of privacy. From the looks of her, Cora had grown up in a bigger town and wasn’t used to its quiet charm. Or maybe charm wasn’t the word.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” she asked after a beat, breaking the silence.
“To Ryder,” Grayson said. “And Zach. They’ll help.”
Cora stopped mid-step. “Oh, great. More bossy shifters. Just what I need.”
“You want to do this on your own?”
“No,” she admitted, lifting her chin. “But I’d like a say in who decides to play knight in shining fur.”
He exhaled through his nose and resumed walking. “Ryder and Zach are pack. They won’t hurt you.”
