“Then I’ll make them.”
“You’re already too close to this, Kane,” Ryder warned. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“I’m thinking just fine,” Grayson snapped. “This is my job.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it.”
Ryder wasn’t wrong, no matter how much it irked Grayson. The bond had blurred lines that shouldn’t have been blurred, making it impossible to separate duty from instinct. But that didn’t mean he was wrong, either.
“I’ll handle it,” he said after a moment. “Quietly.”
“Quiet isn’t your style,” Zach muttered.
“I’ll make it my style. You just make sure the pack is ready.”
“We’ll keep patrols tight,” Ryder offered. “Double the coverage near the quarry. If anything shifts, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Good.”
Zach pushed off the SUV and stretched. “Guess that means I’ll be babysitting the night patrol again. You owe me a beer, Kane.”
“Put it on my tab,” Grayson replied flatly.
Zach snorted but didn’t argue. Ryder glanced back toward the woods, and his gaze was distant for a moment before turning back to Grayson.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Ryder warned. “This isn’t just about you.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” Ryder’s voice softened just enough to make the words land harder. “Because it’s starting to look like you’re carrying the weight of the whole damn pack on your shoulders. You’re not alone in this, Kane. Remember that.”
Grayson didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Ryder and Zach climbed back into the SUV, and the engine rumbled to life. Grayson watched them go, staring after the dust from their tires that kicked up into the trees as they disappeared down the road.
He stood there for a long moment, letting the quiet settle around him again. The weight Ryder had mentioned was real enough, but it wasn’t the pack that bore down on him. It was her—the bond. The constant, incessant pull reminded him with every breath that she was his to protect.
And protect her, he would. Whatever it took.
Half an hour later, Grayson parked his truck in the narrow space behind Cora’s building and sat there for a moment, replaying his conversation with Ryder and Zach. The pack was on edge, the shadows around Bellefleur were growing darker, and all he could think about was the woman upstairs, who had no idea how deep the danger went.
He climbed the stairs to her apartment, and the familiar pull of the bond grew stronger with each step. It was a constant presence that had settled into the background of his life but never truly faded. When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and stepping inside.
The smell hit him first—something floral, sweet, and distinctly magical. Grayson frowned as he closed the door and set his keys on the counter. Cora was at the kitchen table with her laptop shoved to one side and a half-dozen jars of herbs, powders, and liquids spread across the surface. She didn’t look up when he entered. Her focus was fixed on the small cauldron in front of her.
“Working on a cure for the common cold?” he quipped.
Her head snapped up, and the glare she shot him could’ve curdled milk. “What do you want, Grayson?”
“Just checking in,” he explained, crossing the room to stand at the edge of the table. He gestured to the mess of ingredients. “What’s all this?”
“Research,” she replied before dropping a sprig of dried lavender into the cauldron. A puff of smoke rose from the mixture. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow. “Let me guess. You’re trying to break the bond.”
“Ding, ding, ding.” She reached for a vial of something pale green. “Give the man a prize.”
Grayson watched her work, noting the careful way she measured and mixed. She was good at this—methodical, precise. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before, and it caught him off guard. It made sense that she worked in a bakery. Making potions and making cookies weren’t so different, process-wise.
“Do you really think it’s going to work?” he asked after a moment.
