I thought my wolf senses were sharp before, but being in my human form and having her that close? It was something else entirely. Everything about her—her warmth, her scent, her breath—slammed into me with a force that rattled my bones. My senses kicked in harder than they ever have, like my whole body was tuned to her and nothing else.
Her purple dress, those silver sandals, her toenails painted a soft pink—every detail overwhelmed me. It was too much. It made me wilder in my human skin than I’ve ever been in full wolf form.
Her stuttering breath.
Fuck.
My stuttering breath.
I nearly came undone right there in her kitchen.
Buff and Froggy appear from behind the house. I don’t know if Buff was giving me a minute or what, but I’m grateful—God, I needed it. Still need it. My body’s a live wire, everything inside me vibrating with leftover heat and the ghost of her almost-kiss. Froggy is still in wolf form, pacing back and forth like some irritated ferret with rage issues. His hackles are up, tail stiff, eyes locked on me with a look that says he saw everything, or at least enough to lose his damn mind.
The moment he sees me, he lunges.“What the hell was that?”
He hits me so hard we skid across the dirt, his paws shoving into my ribs before he lands in a crouch, like he’s ready to bite my head off in whatever form he’s wearing.
I blink at him, even though we both know exactly what he’s talking about.“What was what?”
He shifts into his human form, just so he can gesture more dramatically. “You! In there! With her! Making goo-goo eyes and holding her damn hand like you’re in some fucking rom-com!”
I shift too. “It wasn’t?—”
“Oh, itwas.”He jabs a finger into my chest hard enough that I’m surprised it didn’t come out the other side. “This was a simple job. Simple. Lay low. Hide in plain sight. Get you out of the country. And now suddenly we’re”—he throws his hands up—“flirting with the bloody mark?”
That word snaps some primal part of me. Heat slams through my chest so hard my ribs ache, and my vision tunnels, narrowing on Froggy like he’s just crossed a line he can’t uncross.
“She’s not a mark,” I growl, the sound dragged from someplace deeper than my human throat. Deeper than bone. Straight from the wolf.
Froggy jerks back, eyes wide. “She’s not…? She’s not…?” He sputters like his brain is short-circuiting. “She’s literally ahuman who doesn’t know you’re a wolf pretending to be her damn dog!”
“We’re helping each other,” I snap, sharper than I intend. “She needs support. And I need time. We’re not using her.”
Froggy lets out a strangled noise—half groan, half scream—and drags his hands down his face like he’s trying to peel off the situation. “Oh my god,” he mutters. “You’re not just lovey-dovey. You’re delusional.”
His hands drop, and he points at me with the accusatory intensity of a courtroom lawyer who’s run out of patience and caffeine. “You’re falling for the mark.”
The words are a punch to the gut, and my wolf lunges in response—possessive, furious, wild.Not a mark. Not a mark. Not a mark.
I clamp down hard, jaw tight, but my pulse spikes anyway. Images crash through me: her soft hands, her breath hitching when I touched her, the tiny tremor in her voice when she whispered “fun.” Her lips parting. Her scent blooming against my skin.
Falling? I don’t want to look at that word. But my chest tightens anyway.
I take a step closer. “Call her a mark again. See what happens.”
“Boys,” Buff says quietly.
We both ignore him.
“You’re pathetic,” Froggy mutters. “And you’re one tail-wag away from forgetting why we’re even doing this!”
“I know exactly why we’re doing this,” I snap. “And it’s not to steal from her.”
Froggy freezes.
I stare.
He stares.
