But I didn’t.
Because she wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
I can be patient. I’ve always been patient.
She’s leaving now. I follow. Not close enough for her bodyguards to notice, but close enough to keep my eyes on her. I know where she’s going before she does. She always craves something sweet after practice. The coffee shop is predictable, part of her routine, something she clings to for a sense of control. That part of her—the need for anchors in the chaos—I like best.
She slips inside, ordering something with too much sugar and too much caffeine for this late in the day. I find a place outside, just far enough to go unnoticed, but close enough to see her. To capture her.
I lift my camera, adjust the lens, and snap a photo. Perfect.
But it’s not enough. Not really.
She shifts in her seat, sitting by the window, stirring her drink absentmindedly while she scrolls through her phone. I love that her hair is pink again. She always goes back to pink. It suits her, makes her stand out. I would’ve been disappointed if she’d changed it to something else. Although, her natural red was nice too.
My gaze flicks to her guards. They stand nearby. She ignores them, though. They don’t know her the way I do. I wonder if they’ve noticed how she chews on her bottom lip when she’s thinking, how her fingers tap against the tabletop in the exact rhythm of the song stuck in her head. I do.
I shift slightly, adjusting my position outside, careful to keep to the edges of the world she inhabits. This vantage point lets me take in everything—the way the light catches in her hair, the way she tilts her head when she laughs at something on the screen of her phone. The way she doesn’t laugh as often as she used to.
That’s because of him.
Landon.
His name alone makes my fingers clench. He ruined her. Broke something in her that hasn’t healed yet. But that’s okay. I can fix it.
Willow shifts in her seat, glancing out the window. I can almost feel her eyes on me. My pulse kicks up, but I don’t move. Not yet.
Not today.
Her bodyguards don’t react, which means she hasn’t seen me. Not yet. Good. They think they can keep her from me, but they don’t understand. I’m not the danger here.
I’m the one who’s going to save her. I’ll show her the world when she’s ready. She just doesn’t know it yet.
I lean back into the shadows when her gaze drifts to me again. Her eyes on me makes my heart pound in my ears. Yearning spreads through my blood.
She feels me.
I know she does. Just like she did the other night when I reached out to her on the rink.
A slow burn starts in my chest, the urge to move, to cross the street, to step inside. It would be so easy. Just a few steps. Just a few words. I could remind her of what she already knows—that she’s mine. That she’s always been mine. That she should stop fighting it.
My foot inches forward before I catch myself.
Not yet.
I take a breath, force myself back into the shadows, gripping my phone. She’s not ready. Not yet. But she will be.
CHAPTER 5
Carson
Willow sips her coffee,doing her best to pretend we don’t exist. That’s fine. It gives us the space to scan the area, to check for any unwanted eyes. I don’t doubt we were followed. The beta is obsessed with her.
A flicker of movement in the shadows across the street catches my attention. Light bounces off a camera lens for a split second, and I force my shoulders to stay relaxed, tilting my head ever so slightly in that direction—just enough to let the others know he’s here. Even though I’m sure they can feel it through our bond. Being pack makes this part pretty easy. It’s what makes us so good at our job; we can communicate completely non-verbally if needed.
Graham shifts on his feet, the only outward indication that he’s spotted him, too.
