Not malevolent.
Well, not yet.
But restless.
Too many.Too fast.
Megan stills beside me.I can feel her pulse jump—hers and mine.
“Th-these are real ghosts,” she says, voice tight with disbelief.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, my hand dropping to the pouch of salt at my belt just in case.“Nothing but authenticity in Arrhythmia.”
I don’t mean to sound like a dick.
But this is kind of a crucial moment.
Because this town?
It’s not normal.It’s not safe.It’s not easy.
Arrhythmia doesn’t just need a visitor to see the weird.
It needs someone who can stand in the middle of it and not run.
Not scream.Not shut down and pretend it didn’t happen.
And this woman—this city-raised, sharp-tongued, painfully gorgeous federal agent—is standing next to me as ghosts crawl out of the walls, and she’s not bolting.
She’s blinking.
Breathing hard.
Processing.
And somehow, through all the tension, all the unspoken rules of this supernatural place we call home, all I can think is,please don’t leave.
Please be one of the rare ones who doesn’t laugh it off or call me crazy.
Please be someone who sees what I see—and stays.
Because everything in me, every instinct, every primal part of my Shifter soul is screaming that this woman is mine.
And if she walks away after this?
I don’t know if I can handle it.
Especially with my Wolf whispering from the dark corner of my mind.
She’s ours.
She sees.
She belongs.
And for once in my life, I almost believe him.
“Okay,” she says after a long moment.Then louder, “Okay, well first, this is definitely above my pay grade.”
