She processed this without flinching.
“What about the cabin?” she asked. “Can he find me here?”
“People know that the three of us live together but no one in town knows of this cabin.”
“Do you have weapons?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t look at me with that condescending face,” she said. “I’m not going to accidentally shoot anyone. But if Hudson shows up while all three of you are on a fire call, I want a fighting chance.”
My wolf stirred with admiration. This woman crawled through a burning building to save herself and now she wanted me to arm her.
“I’ll teach you,” I said. “Not firearms. Self-defense in close quarters.”
“Why not firearms?”
“Guns can be taken. Jammed or left in another room when you need them most.” I held her gaze. “Your body is always with you. Train it right, and you’re never unarmed.”
She considered this before nodding slowly.
“And I have other methods,” I added. “When the time comes, I’ll show you those too.”
Her eyes narrowed, filing it away. I could practically see her mental catalog updating, adding this to the growing list of things she studies about us.
“And these?” She tapped the Lytopian script in my journal. “This language doesn’t match anything in any linguistic database I’ve searched.”
Mira leaned forward on the desk to turn the journal toward me, and her hair fell over her shoulder. Her scent shifted with the movement, pushing closer, and my wolf slammed against my ribs.
“Those are personal,” I said.
“They match markings I’ve seen on Percy’s arms.”
Fuck.
“You’re observant.”
“Part of my skill set.”
The silence between us held weight. It wasn’t hostile but charged. Two people circling the edge of a truth that one wasn’t ready to hear and the other wasn’t ready to tell.
“I’m going to figure it out,” she said. “It may not be a danger to me but you are hiding something.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”
She held my gaze for one more moment and set down my journal in a way that said she’d be back for it. She squared her shoulders and walked out of my office without looking back.
I stood there, staring at the space she’d vacated, her scent still clinging to my desk.
This woman was going to be my undoing.
By sunset, she’d claimed my chair.
Mira sat on the porch, no apology in sight, her eyes tracking the tree line. Percival was running late from his shift and Solomon still hadn’t come home. It was just the two of us.
I haven’t really been alone with her since the fire.
And since the week she forgot.
