“What about your heroines?” Rune asked, cutting into his eggs with the same methodical precision he brought to everything. “What makes them strong?”
Electra considered the question while sipping her coffee. “They fight for what they want instead of just accepting what they’re given. They don’t let fear make their choices for them.” She paused, realizing how closely that description hit to her own struggles. “They choose love even when it’s terrifying.”
Something shifted in Rune’s expression—a flicker of understanding that made her chest tight.
“How did you get into writing about wolf shifters specifically?” he asked.
“Wolves always fascinated me,” she admitted. “The pack dynamics, the loyalty, the way they’re both wild and protective. And the idea of a man who could shift into something so powerful...” She felt heat climb her cheeks. “I guess it was the ultimate fantasy. This perfect blend of civilization and primal instinct.”
Rune’s eyes darkened slightly. “And now?”
“Now I find out I manifested my fantasy without even knowing it.” She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re sitting here in my kitchen, eating eggs and asking about my books like this is all perfectly normal.”
“Maybe it is normal. For us.”
The certainty in his voice made something settle deep in her chest. This feeling of rightness.
“I keep thinking about Gerri,” Electra said, stabbing at her eggs with sudden intensity. “How she just happened to know about a cabin in a town full of shifters. How she insisted on coming with me that first day.”
Rune nodded grimly. “She owns the Paranormal Dating Agency. Matches shifters with their fated mates. Has a one hundred percent success rate.”
Electra’s fork clattered to her plate. “She’s a matchmaker? And I just... trusted her completely because Cosette said she was good at finding people fresh starts?”
“Gerri doesn’t just find fresh starts. She orchestrates fate.” Rune’s tone carried a mix of admiration and exasperation. “I never requested her services, but apparently that doesn’t stop her from meddling when she thinks two people belong together.”
“I can’t believe I never asked more questions. I was so desperate to fix my writer’s block that I just... went along with whatever this stranger suggested.” Electra felt heat flood her cheeks. “She knew I wrote about wolf shifters, knew there was an unmated Alpha in this town...”
“Gerri likes to push fate along more than most people are comfortable with,” Rune said carefully. “But she means well. Other shifters I know say her matches are always... right. Even when they seem impossible.”
Electra met his eyes across the small table. Despite the manipulative way this had all been orchestrated, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Rune felt like the missing piece of herself she’d never known was lost.
“I should be furious with her,” she said quietly. “But...”
“But you’re not.”
“No. I’m not.” She smiled, surprising herself with the admission. “I think she knew exactly what she was doing.”
After breakfast, Electra felt the familiar pull of creation tugging at her consciousness. The words were there, pressing against the inside of her skull, demanding to be released.
“I need to write,” she said, already standing and clearing her plate. “The other night, this morning... I have so much I need to get down before I lose it.”
Rune’s smile was warm and understanding. “Forrest will be here soon to help with security measures around the property. Motion sensors, better locks. We’ll stay out of your way.”
Electra settled at her desk by the living room window, laptop open, fingers poised over the keys. Through the glass, she could see Rune moving around the property with the efficiency of someone who commanded respect without effort. Even in casual clothes, there was no mistaking what he was—Alpha to his bones.
When Forrest arrived, the coordination between them was seamless. Hand signals, shared glances, the kind of wordless communication that came from years of partnership and absolute trust. Watching Rune work—seeing the careful way he assessed every angle, every potential vulnerability—made desire curl low in her belly.
He was protecting her. Not because she was helpless, but because she mattered to him. Because keeping her safe was as natural as breathing.
God, he really is perfect,she thought, then immediately felt a stab of possessiveness. The idea of other women reading about a character based on him, fantasizing about her mate, made something primitive and territorial rise in her chest.
But the material was too raw, too honest to waste. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, pouring out everything—the overwhelming intensity of the mate bond, the way Rune’s protection felt like safety rather than suffocation, the perfect balance of his Alpha dominance and unexpected gentleness.
The heroine taking shape on the page wasn’t observing from a safe distance anymore. She was experiencing everything—the fear, the desire, the terrifying hope.
For the very first time in her career, Electra wasn’t writing about someone else’s story. She was writing her own truth, and it felt like the most honest thing she’d ever created.
Hours passed in a blur of words and sensation. Outside, Rune continued his methodical work, and inside, Electra crafted the story that might finally bridge the gap between the woman she’d always been and the woman she was becoming.
