You’re the Alpha of the Hale Pack and Sheriff of Blackpine. Act like it.
But when he knocked on her cabin door, all that authority evaporated the moment she opened it.
Gone were yesterday’s pajamas, replaced by an emerald blouse that made her green eyes luminous and jeans that hugged every curve like they’d been tailored specifically to torment him. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over one shoulder, and when she smiled—surprised but genuinely pleased—something primitive and possessive unfurled in his chest.
“Sheriff Hale.” Her eyebrows arched with amused curiosity. “Don’t tell me I’ve already committed another violation.”
“Just call me Rune. And it’s my day off. So you are in the clear today.” The words came out rough, and he cleared his throat. “Thought I’d check in, see how you’re settling.”
“Your day off?” She leaned against the doorframe, and the casual gesture sent his pulse hammering. “I was beginning to think you worked around the clock. You seem very dedicated to public service.”
Her teasing tone made him want to step closer, to crowd her space until all she could see was him. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Appreciate the vote of confidence in my work ethic.”
Silence stretched between them, loaded with everything neither was saying. Her gaze flickered over his face like she was trying to solve a puzzle, and his wolf practically purred at the attention. The mate bond hummed with satisfaction at her proximity, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough until she was completely his.
“Would you like me to show you around the area?” The offer tumbled out before he could second-guess it. “Get you familiar with the landmarks, the safe trails.”
She hesitated, her teeth catching her lower lip. “Sightseeing might give me some more inspiration for my writing.”
Relief flooded through him as she disappeared inside, returning with a lightweight jacket that she shrugged over her blouse. “Lead the way.”
He guided her to his truck, his hand automatically moving to the small of her back. The contact sent electricity shooting up his arm, and when she glanced up at him with flushed cheeks, he knew she felt it too. Opening her door became an exercise in restraint—every instinct screamed to press her against the truck and claim her mouth, consequences be damned.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmured, sliding into the passenger seat.
The blush that colored her cheeks nearly undid him.
Rune forced himself around to the driver’s side, grateful for the moment to collect himself. But then when he slid into the driver’s seat, being enclosed in the truck’s cabin with her scent surrounding him, he nearly came undone again.
He drove through Blackpine’s winding roads, pointing out the general store, the post office, and the network of hiking trails that crisscrossed the mountainside. “These paths can be tricky,” he said, indicating a particularly steep trail. “I’d recommend not exploring them alone.”
“More safety lectures?” But her tone held no irritation, just gentle amusement.
“Force of habit.”
And territorial instinct, but he kept that to himself.
When they reached Pine Ridge Road’s scenic overlook, he parked and cut the engine. The view spread before them like a postcard—rolling mountains clothed in spring green, valleys shrouded in morning mist, and the town of Blackpine nestled below like a secret.
“It’s beautiful,” Electra breathed, and something in her voice made him turn.
She was staring out at the vista with wonder, her profile soft in the filtered sunlight. The sight of her here, in his territory, looking at home in a way that caused his wolf to howl with satisfaction, nearly broke his composure.
“By the way,” she said, glancing at him with mischief dancing in her eyes, “Millie was looking for you last night at the diner. Something about meatloaf and your apparent abandonment of tradition.”
Heat crawled up his neck. “Was working late. I’m sure she’ll give me grief about it.”
“How long has this meatloaf tradition been going on?”
“Twenty years, give or take.” The admission felt oddly intimate. “Every Thursday night since… I joined the sheriff’s department.”
He wasn’t ready to admit the full truth that he’d been doing this Thursday tradition since the night his mother died.
“You really are a creature of habit.” Her laugh was warm and unguarded. “What threw off your routine?”
You did. From the moment I saw you.
“Just adjusting to having a new resident here,” he said instead. “Making sure you feel safe and welcome.”
