He hesitates.
Then he opens his arms.
It's small. Barely there. Just enough of a shift in his posture that I know what he's offering.
A hug.
Contact.
For a second, my whole body surges toward him.
Alpha.
History.
The man who took me out of a bad place and built a life with me.
The same man who told me to kneel until my knees went numb and then sent me to my nest alone.
My feet stay planted.
"I'm still scared," I admit, voice so low I'm not sure he hears it.
His eyes darken.
"Of me?"
"Yes."
There's a pause, heavy as stone.
He drops his arms, fists curling at his sides. "I wouldn't hurt you if you didn't force my hand."
I'm not sure if that was supposed to be comforting, but it is not.
My instincts spike, then veer hard away.
"Okay."
I turn back to the lettuce.
He stands there for a moment, breathing slow and controlled. Then he walks out without another word.
The sound of his footsteps makes my stomach knot.
I finish making dinner with shaky hands and go find Eli the second I'm done.
Later, when I ask about going next door, I fully expect Ragon to say no.
I catch him at the kitchen island, going over invoices on his tablet.
"Alpha?"
He doesn't look up right away. "Mm?"
"Alex and his pack invited me over. To bake. Remember?"
That gets his eyes.
