It was about the case. About keeping our eyes open for whoever had been targeting shifters and their dogs. I could not let fear make us walk away.
Chris finally met my eyes. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “We can just… withdraw.”
Could we really just do that?The volunteer tapped her watch again, sharp and impatient. Time was running out. A tight pulse of panic shot through me. I swallowed hard.
“I’ll run her,” I said, voice firmer than I felt.
Chris handed me the leash without argument.
I crouched to Pampi’s level, brushing a hand down her side. Her muscles were warm, steady. She leaned into my palm without hesitation.
“Alright,” I murmured. “Let’s do this girl.”
We checked in with the steward, swapped the handler information, and moved to the start line.
The judge gave me a brief, assessing look. “Ready?” I nodded. “Go.”
I released Pampi cleanly.
My cues were short and precise. I sent her wide where she needed space, tightened my line where efficiency mattered.
I waited at the teeter. Counted the beat it took for the board to drop before releasing her forward. She responded beautifully. The timer buzzed. A ripple of applause followed us out of the ring.
I clipped the leash back on and stood, already calculating the time against the qualifying standard. It would hold. We were in.
Chris met us just outside the exit. He was quiet, like he hadn’t forgiven himself for asking me to take over.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.
“Yes, I did.”
I avoided his eyes for half a beat too long. It was the right call, I told myself. So why did it feel like I’d stepped onto a familiar slope?
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, aiming for light. “We qualified. That’s what matters.”
He nodded, but I could see the way his jaw tightened. I should’ve said something kinder.
Instead, I forced a small smile. “Next time, you wait the teeter out.”
His mouth twitched faintly. I knew it wasn’t enough, but it was what I had.
8
CHRIS
Ishould have nailed the first heat.
The mistake was small. Embarrassingly small. Pampi had looked back at me, ears flicking, ready and willing. I had urged Pampi on instead of letting her take her own time.
She recovered beautifully because she was brilliant and because Jaime had trained her well, but the judges still marked it. Not a disqualification, but just enough of a fault to sting.
I stood at the edge of the ring afterward, hands shoved into my pockets, trying not to replay it on a loop.
Jaime had been calm and steady. The way he always sounded when he was fully in his element. Relief curled through me, unwanted and undeniable.
Good thing he was here. Pampi would be safe. That relief curdled almost immediately into something sharper. I didn’t want to rely on him this much.
Not after what he’d told me.
