We dressed fast. Rowan fumbled with her jeans, and I barely managed to pull a shirt over my head before she moved toward the door. I stepped in behind her, close enough for her to feel the heat of my body as she pulled open the door.
A sharply dressed couple stood on the porch. They wore expensive coats and polished shoes, wholly unsuited for a snowstorm. Their gazes swept over the cottage with thinly veiled judgment.
Her father’s mouth twisted first. “You haven’t been answering your cell. So we had to come all this way, to this dumpy town I never wanted to see again, to find out what you did to make my mother?—”
He abruptly broke off when his gaze finally collided with mine.
I didn’t move or speak. I simply let my polar bleed up through me. Just enough to flash gold in my eyes and make the air tremble with the threat of what lived inside my skin.
He recognized the warning immediately. Predatory stillness in a shifter was a language the locals knew.
I’d never hurt him. Rowan wouldn’t want that. But the way he’d spoken to her already told me everything I needed to know about this man. He had failed the most basic test by disrespecting my mate.
I kept my stance relaxed, but every muscle in my body was coiled and ready. Her parents had arrived uninvited and already shouting. They wouldn't hurt my mate, not while I was breathing.
Rowan shook her head with a sigh. “Dad, you can try to contest the will if you want, but Gerald said he didn’t expect any issues with filing the final paperwork today.”
Her father scoffed, puffing up his chest to make himself look bigger. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Attorneys in this town?—”
I cut him off before he gathered any more steam.
“Gerald doesn’t miss deadlines.”
The words came out low, but I didn’t bother hiding the steel behind them. Her father flinched, his gaze darting toward me.
I leaned casually against the doorframe, letting the weight of my presence settle over him. “I’m sure it’s already done.”
Rowan’s mom blinked. “Done?”
I couldn’t help the hint of satisfaction in my tone as I added, “Even with the storm, I have no doubt he was at the office when the sun came up this morning.”
Owl shifters practically lived for predawn hours. Gerald probably filed everything before most humans had even rolled over in bed. He loved beating everyone to the punch.
Her father muttered under his breath, “Figures you’d end up with one of them.”
Rowan inhaled sharply. “Dad.”
Her mother frowned. “One of whom?”
Her father straightened so fast he almost fell over. His gaze cut to me again, finally remembering the rules humans were expected to follow in Timber Ridge. Keeping our existence a secret was at the top.
“Nothing, dear.” He shook his head. “It’s just a shame our daughter wants to tie herself to someone from Timber Ridge. And stay here, in this place.”
Rowan’s mother wrinkled her nose as though the rustic cottage had personally offended her. I felt Rowan tense beside me, embarrassment flickering through the bond.
I moved forward, just one step. But it was enough to make the floorboards creak and her father stumble back like prey. “Don’t come back here unless she asks you to.”
Her father went pale. My message was received.
Her mother blinked, oblivious. “We’ll talk later, sweetheart.”
Rowan managed a stiff nod.
I stood there until they retreated down the porch steps, her father pulling his wife along with a shaky urgency that my polar found deeply satisfying.
Rowan exhaled shakily beside me, but I didn’t look away from the window until their taillights disappeared through the snow.
“Well, at least we got you meeting my parents out of the way.”
