"Ash is Robin's brother. He's Toby's family. That makes him—"
"Adjacent," Silas cuts in quietly. "Not pack. And you're acting like he's already your mate."
The word lands heavy. Mate. The thing every shifter wants, the bond that means forever. The word I've been avoiding even in my own head.
"I'm not—"
"Four batches of vindaloo," Vaughn says. "You've been twitchy all day. You growled at Ezra this morning when he suggested ordering pizza instead of cooking."
"I did not growl."
"You absolutely growled," Ezra confirms. "Full lion-voice. Over pizza."
Shit.
"We're not telling you to stay away from him," Vaughn says, his voice shifting into the tone he uses as Knox's second. Pack business. "That's your choice. But we are asking you to be careful. You've got a soft heart. Always have. And Ash seems like the kind of person who would take everything you're offering without giving anything back."
"Dangerous," Ezra says.
"Temporary," Silas adds.
"Hot as fuck but emotionally unavailable," Robin concludes. "Which, same, honestly. At least I'm self-aware about it."
"You're not—" I start.
"I'm absolutely a disaster. I just hide it better." Robin stretches, yawning. "Okay, I need sleep. Twelve hundred macarons' worth of sleep. But Jason? The food will be perfect. You're an amazing cook. Just... protect yourself, okay? If you happen to see Toby for more than a second, let him know I said hi. We'll catch up later."
He heads for the door, then pauses.
"And maybe don't make a fifth batch tonight. You've got it right. Trust yourself."
Then he's gone, and the others drift away too—Vaughn back to the garage, Ezra to wherever Ezra disappears to, Silas to his corner with his book. I'm left alone in the kitchen with four containers of test vindaloo and a lot of feelings I don't know what to do with.
I finish cleaning up. Wash every dish, wipe every surface, put every spice container back in its exact place. The kitchen is spotless by the time I'm done, no evidence of my obsessive preparation except the containers in the fridge.
Tomorrow I'll start fresh. Make the real batch, the one Ash will actually eat. I'll make perfect naan, fluffy rice, cool raitato balance the heat. I'll set the table nicely, make sure everyone has what they need, be a good host.
And I'll try not to stare at Ash like he's the answer to a question I didn't know I was asking.
I know Robin's right. I know they're all right. Ash is dangerous, temporary, and will probably break me if I let him in. He doesn't do relationships, doesn't do feelings, doesn't do staying. I'm setting myself up for heartbreak and I know it.
But when he grabbed my wrist, when he said my name, when his eyes lingered on me for just that second longer than they needed to—
I felt something click into place. My lion chose. The same way Knox's lion chose Toby.
The difference is, Ash is human. He can't feel the pull the way I can. He doesn't have instincts screaming at him to claim and keep.
For him, I'm just a pretty face. A potential fuck. Something to enjoy and then move on from.
Maybe that should be enough. Maybe I should take what I can get—one night, one week, however long his interest lasts—and be grateful for it. Maybe destruction would be worth it, if the destruction is beautiful enough.
I turn off the kitchen lights and head upstairs to my room. Tomorrow Ash will be here, eating food I made for him, looking at me with those sharp hazel eyes.
I don't need forever. I've never expected that.
Maybe I just need tomorrow.
Chapter 4
