“You have six different types of flour organized by protein content. That’s a stress baking section.”
An hour later,the sun was rising, and Avine was sitting in her own kitchen, wrapped in a blanket, watching Theo pace.
He’d found a spare shirt—likely from the truck—and she was trying not to be disappointed about that. More importantly, he’d spent the last sixty minutes cataloging the damage, checking the reinforced wards, and growing progressively more grim.
“Whatever that was, it wasn’t natural weathering.” He stopped by the window, arms crossed. “Something is attacking, and until we know what, the wards are vulnerable.”
“Or they wanted to flush me out.”
His head turned sharply. “What makes you say that?”
“Because they could have collapsed the whole thing if they wanted. The magic was strong enough.” She pulled the blanket tighter. “But they didn’t. They kept pressing until I had to call for help.”
His gaze sharpened. “Someone wanted to see what you’d do. How you’d react.”
“Or who I’d call.”
That landed differently. His jaw tightened, and she saw him processing the implications—that this might not be about her alone, that it might be about both of them, about whatever was humming in the air between them that neither of them wanted to name.
“I’m posting pack members outside.” His tone left no room for argument.
“Compromise.” The word looked like it cost him. “Weekly ward checks. I reinforce what we built tonight, make sure it holds. And you—” He hesitated. “You let me know if anything else happens. Immediately. Not when the water’s at your waist.”
“That’s it? No guards?”
“I’ll have patrols increase in this area. Discreetly. You won’t even notice.”
She studied him, looking for the catch. For the part where he’d take back the autonomy he was offering. But all she saw was a man trying very hard to protect someone who wouldn’t let him.
He’s not Henry. The thought surfaced unbidden. He’s not trying to control you. He’s trying to keep you safe, and he’s asking permission.
“Fine.” She eased her stance. “But the ward checks happen on a schedule I agree to. I’m not having you show up whenever you feel like it.”
A flicker at the corner of his mouth that might have been a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And you tell me everything you find out about what caused this. I’m not being kept in the dark about threats to my own home.”
“Agreed.”
The door closed softly. Beck and his grin and his commentary, finally gone.
Theo lingered. Words hovered behind his eyes, unspoken. She could see it in the set of his shoulders, the way his gaze kept drifting back to her.
“Get some sleep.” He said it quietly, almost gently. “The wards will hold for now. And I—” He looked away. “I’ll be back to check on them.”
On them. Not on me. Even though we both know that’s what he means.
“Thank you.” The words felt strange in her mouth. Foreign. She wasn’t used to meaning them. “For coming.”
He nodded once. Started toward the door.
Then he stopped. Looked back.
A moment, but it was enough. In that glance was everything he wasn’t saying—the worry, the want, the growing impossibility of pretending this was about wards and pack duty.
Then he was gone.
Theo.
