“This is real life, not one of my novels.”
“Whatever you say.” Cosette leaned closer to the camera, her expression turning wickedly delighted. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks a bit suspicious.”
Electra’s stomach flipped as she remembered the massive black wolf from last night. The way it had stared at her with those intelligent eyes, almost like it was... watching over her.
“Earth to Electra,” Cosette called, snapping her fingers at the screen. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The same look you get when you’re about to write something brilliant. What aren’t you telling me?”
Electra hesitated, then found herself describing the wolf encounter—the size of it, the way it had seemed to study her rather than simply observe. Cosette’s eyes grew wider with each detail.
“Oh my God,” Cosette breathed when she finished. “You realize what this sounds like, right? Protective alpha male, mysterious wolf sightings?—“
“Cosette, stop. Not everything is a romance novel,” Electra cut her off firmly. “It’s just wildlife doing wildlife things.”
“Uh-huh.”
Before Electra could protest further, inspiration struck like lightning again. “I have to go,” she said abruptly.
“Wait, what? You can’t just?—“
“I don’t want to lose this spark. I need to write. Now.”
“That’s my girl!” Cosette’s grin was triumphant. “Go channel all that sexual tension into something publishable.”
The call ended, leaving Electra alone with the sudden, overwhelming urge to get everything down on paper before the moment passed. She practically ran to her desk by the large window, her laptop already humming with life as she settled into the chair.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a heartbeat, then began moving with a fluidity she hadn’t felt in months. Words poured out of her—raw, unfiltered impressions of the black wolf’s piercing gaze, the way it had seemed to see straightthrough to her soul. The isolation of the cabin, the weight of the forest pressing in around her, the strange sense that she was being watched by something far more intelligent than simple wildlife.
And then there was Rune. The way he commanded space just by existing in it, how his presence made her feel simultaneously safe and utterly exposed. The heat that had flared between them during such a simple interaction, like her body recognized something about him that her mind couldn’t quite grasp.
This man makes me feel alive,she typed, the words appearing on screen as quickly as the thoughts formed.Unnerved. Like he sees parts of me I’ve kept hidden.
The morning dissolved around her as she lost herself in the flow. Her heroine began to take shape—a woman displaced and seeking something she couldn’t name. And the hero... tall, commanding, with eyes like storm clouds and a presence that promised both protection and danger.
When she finally looked up, the sun was high overhead, casting different shadows through her window. Hours had passed without her noticing, the outside world forgotten as she’d poured her confusion and attraction onto the page.
I can’t get involved with him,she reminded herself sternly as she saved the document.I came here to focus on my book, not to get distracted by some ridiculously attractive sheriff with control issues.
But even as she made the vow, she found herself wondering how her new heroine would handle a man like Rune. Someone who radiated alpha authority like heat from a fire, and who looked at her like she was the most fascinating puzzle he’d ever encountered.
She realized Rune was shaping up to be her muse for this next book, whether he knew it or not.
SIX
RUNE
Rune stared at the untouched sandwich on his desk as he replayed the morning’s events. The ham and cheese might as well have been cardboard for all the appetite he had. Every time he tried to take a bite, his mind drifted back to Electra. The memory of her bare legs and that challenging spark in her green eyes made his wolf prowl beneath his skin.
Focus. Eat. You need the fuel.
But concentration proved impossible when his mate was living in the most vulnerable position imaginable—isolated, unprotected, and sitting directly on the fault line between two rival packs.
The radio call that had torn him away from her cabin had been about Birch’s enforcers stirring up trouble on Mill Road, barely three miles from Electra’s front door. Rune’s hands clenched into fists as he remembered the confrontation. Three of Birch’s wolves, all swagger and territorial posturing, trying to push the boundary markers deeper into Hale territory.
“You’re on the wrong side of the line,” he’d told them firmly.
