Jaime didn’t interrupt. He just listened, calm and attentive.
“I guess that’s why I want to do right by Cooper,” I said. “By you. By this mission. I want to prove… I don’t know… that I can belong somewhere. That I’m not just some stray mutt taking up oxygen.”
A soft breath escaped Jaime, almost a sound, almost not. His eyes flicked over my face before settling on his drink again.
“It isn’t easy,” he said. “Trying to belong.”
His tone held something raw. Carefully folded, but still visible if you knew how to look.
My wolf perked up. “You say that like you know.”
“Maybe I do.”
He didn’t elaborate. But something in him shifted. Not enough to expose the whole wound, just enough to show the scar.
I didn’t push. Not yet. I just watched him, waiting.
After a few seconds, he said quietly, “I used to be part of a pack. A big one, structured and efficient. Too efficient.” He paused, lips pressing together. “I had a lot of responsibilities.”
I didn’t interrupt, merely listened.
“I was good at what I did,” he continued. “Reading shifter behavior. Predicting how situations might unfold. I could deescalate fights, manage crises. Leadership depended on me.” He tapped the side of his glass again, softer this time. “Too much.”
“What happened?”
He hesitated, weighing his words. “Burnout.” The single word carried a quiet gravity. “And a mistake. One I paid for even though it wasn’t mine alone.”
I caught the faint tension along his jaw. The way his shoulders tightened for a moment before he rolled them loose again. Jaime didn’t show vulnerability easily. This small, guarded confession was a gift.
“So you left?” I asked.
“I realized I wasn’t valued for who I was,” he said.
I swallowed, throat tight. “That sounds rough.”
“It was necessary.”
We sat in the low hum of shared silence. For the first time, I understood the shape of the walls around him. Not just caution, but experience and hurt. Exhaustion carved into bone.
I turned slightly to face him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t just like you for what you can do.”
His eyes flicked to mine.
“I want to know who you are,” I said.
The air between us shifted again. Warmer and denser. Something crackling gently beneath our words. My wolf pressed against my ribs, hopeful, tail raised.
Jaime didn’t smile, but the edges of his expression eased. “You’re different from what I expected.”
“Is that a polite way of saying I annoy you less now?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, completely deadpan.
I barked a laugh, drawing a couple glances from nearby tables. “Great. I’ll take it. Tomorrow maybe you’ll even tolerate me.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“I’ll try not to, darling,” I said, blowing him a kiss.
