Someone the pack could rely on. More importantly, someone the alpha could rely on.
So as the weight of this mission settled over me, tightening around my chest, I straightened my spine. Because if Cooper believed I could do this, then I had damn well better rise to the challenge.
“And that,” Cooper said, “is where you and Jaime come in.”
I blinked. “Me and Jaime?” I asked.
Jaime finally spoke. His voice was low, warm, and annoyingly smooth. “Me.”
I tried not to shiver.
Cooper gestured between us.
“Jaime might be new to Pecan Pines, but he’s an experienced animal behaviorist and trainer. One of the best I’ve seen. With all the changes happening in our pack, and with the need for stronger community ties, I’m considering building a K9 unit for the enforcers in the future,” Cooper said.
I looked at Jaime again. He didn’t preen at the praise. Didn’t even shift, he just nodded slightly, like he expected nothing less.
“Peter has decided he and John no longer feel safe entering the show,” Cooper continued. “But since they already registered, and since Jaime has dogs that are ready, they’ve agreed to let us send replacements instead.”
My mouth parted. “Alpha, are you saying…”
“Yes,” Cooper said. “I’m sending you and Jaime undercover to pose as Peter and John Hill.”
Peter nodded shyly.
“We already talked about it. We just want everyone to be safe,” Peter said.
Undercover. As a couple. I felt the floor sway under me for a second. Jaime sat perfectly still, infuriatingly calm.
“I..” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “You want us to pretend to be married?”
“Partners,” Cooper corrected. “This show isn’t small, Chris. It’s regional. Media, vendors, judges, handlers from multiple towns. Something goes wrong there? It affects all of us. Humans and shifters alike.”
I knew all of that. Even though I hadn’t been officially part of the pack for very long, I’d watched Cooper pour himself into every bridge he built between humans and shifters.
Every community event, every joint patrol, every public outreach.
I’d seen him swallow pride when humans got skittish, and calm tempers when wolves got defensive. The man worked like peace itself depended on his shoulders, because most days, it did.
And I’d seen just how fragile that balance could be. One rumor. One incident. One misunderstanding. That’s all it ever took for old fears to flare up again.
And this, dogs getting sick, maybe poisoned, right before a mixed human-shifter event, this could be the spark that undid everything he’d worked for.
Still. I risked a sideways glance at Jaime. He didn’t look thrilled. But then again, he didn’t looknotthrilled either. That was the problem with him. Jaime never gave anything away.
His expression was a mask carved from cool indifference. No twitch of his mouth. No lift of an eyebrow. No change in the steady, even rhythm of his breathing.
He was unreadable and impenetrable, just like always. But my wolf reacted differently.
The second my gaze slid to him, my wolf slammed forward, ears pricked, tail high, muscles tight with interest. Like he knew something I didn’t.
Like Jaime’s presence flipped some inner switch I didn’t remember installing. A deep, instinctive pull tightened in my chest, low and warm and unsettling. Not alarm. Not threat.
Recognition. I nearly stumbled. No. No way.
I shoved the feeling down hard, forcing my wolf back behind the wall of logic and denial. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t ever going to be the time. The mission came first.
The pack came first. And even if I were delusional enough to entertain whatever my instincts were hinting at, Jaime didn’t like me. At all.
